《My Formula 1 System》


 Chapter 1 First Son Responsibilities

    The crackling of thunder followed a swift bolt of lightning that tore through the city''s dark, night sky. The rain poured down hard at 11:00 pm, and the clustered streets were filled with vehicles and citizens of the rat race trying to head home after a long, strenuous workday.Two individuals, in particular, scrambled through the rain, their boots plunging into puddles as they headed toward their apartment building. These two were eighteen-year-old Luca and his sixteen-year-old sister, Sophia. Luca was merely dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, now soaked, while his sister wore a coat that he had given her as they navigated through the rain, hurrying into the building.


    Luca was freezing cold, shivering in pain as the chilly rainwater salted the wounds and bruises on his face and arms. But he endured it, guiding his sister up the stairs until they arrived at their family''s apartment door. The strong stench of old cigarettes, sweat, and rotting food from the overflowing trash bin nearby filled the hallway.


    "Are you alright?" he asked Sophia with a hoarse voice, surprised he could still speak after receiving a heavy blow to his throat.


    Sophia simply nodded, warm in the coat Luca had given her after he had come looking for her late at night. She glanced at her brother as he searched himself for his keys before groaning in frustration.


    He must have lost his keys during the fight that had left him bruised. Luca had gone looking for his sister at 10 pm after she had failed to obey their home''s curfew for the fifth night in a row. He had just come back from working his grueling shift at the steel mill, where he spent hours lifting heavy machinery, only to earn $300 at the end of the month.


    The pay was barely enough to support his mother, who worked as a waitress at a small diner, and cover their basic needs. Acquiring a job at the steel factory was all he could get after dropping out of school to support his widowed mother.


    Yet, despite his exhaustion and weariness, Luca had barely set foot through the door when his mother pleaded with him to go find their notorious runaway once again. This time, she had stayed out even longer, and she was only sixteen for that matter.


    Luca was bone-tired, suggesting they could wait a little while¡ªSophia might turn up on her own¡ªbut his mother''s plea was something he couldn''t say no to. Sensing the impending storm, he grabbed a coat and darted out into the bustling streets, his eyes and muscles aching with fatigue, in search of his sister.


    He found her partying late at night at a friend''s house with a group of older kids she definitely wasn''t supposed to be hanging around with. When Luca confronted her and insisted she leave, the drunken boys mistook him for an intruder and attacked him with heavy blows.


    Luca fought back, refusing to let them have the upper hand, and at that very moment, the skies tore open, drenching everything with rain. It took a while before one of Sophia''s friends stepped in, confirming that the tall boy in the coat was indeed her brother.


    Luca hadn''t spoken to his sister the entire walk back home until they had entered the building, both of them soaked and silent. After fumbling for his keys with no success, Luca gave up and knocked on the door. Within seconds, it was opened by their mother.


    "Oh my God! Luca, what happened to you?!" she cried out, immediately reaching for her son. "You''re covered in blood and bruises!"


    "I''m fine, mom," Luca said wearily, urging his mother who was coming out back inside, and everyone else.


    "Fine?! How are you fine?!" she demanded, her voice rising with both anger and worry as her fingers prodded his face. "You look like you were run over by a stampede! You are not fine¡ªyou need medical attention, now."


    "Mother, I said I''m fine. Please, let''s settle in. It''s almost midnight," Luca grumbled, shutting the door behind them as the warmth of their home enveloped him. The faint smell of potatoes simmering in the kitchen hit his nose, and his stomach growled in response.


    "And you!" Mrs. Rennick thundered, pointing an accusatory finger at her daughter. "Where have you been with those long legs of yours at this hour?! Haven''t I warned you that I will not tolerate such stupid behavior?!"


    Luca walked past his mother and sister, heading into the kitchen where he slumped into a chair at the counter table. Resting his forehead against the cool surface, he clenched his teeth as the bruises pulsed with pain, stinging his senses.


    Sophia was speaking back at mother when a nasty slap landed on her cheek. Luca''s head shot up immediately, his gaze locking onto his sister, who stood there with her cheek reddening. Sensing the escalating tension, Luca ordered, "Sophia, go to our room." Without a word, the girl stomped away in fury.


    Unapologetic for the disciplining measure, Mrs. Rennick turned her attention back to Luca. She quickly retrieved a medkit and began tending to his injuries, urging him to take off his soaked shirt.


    As she worked, her eyes drifted toward the scattered mail on the table, the letters she had been sorting before Luca returned from his strenuous work. "You got a letter today," she said, glancing up at him.


    "I did?" Luca winced slightly as the antiseptic stung his wounds. "What''s it about?"


    Mrs. Rennick''s gaze remained steady on Luca''s brown eyes. "You didn''t tell me you applied for the urgent track marshal position at the Stadhaven Circuit?" she asked with an unperceptive, soft smile.


    Luca''s eyes lit up with a hint of insecurity as he flickered his gaze between the letters on the table and his mother. "How did you know about that?" he asked, lowering his tone. "Did I get the job?"


    Mrs. Rennick smiled proudly as she finished bandaging his arm and gently plastered his cheek. "Yes, they gave you the job," she beamed with concealed excitement. "How great is that?!"


    Luca frowned, lowering his gaze as he picked up the letter, reading it for himself. Indeed, he had been offered the position of a track marshal, a role they were desperate to fill before the big race tomorrow.


    His mother noticed his deadbeat expression and she frowned in return. "What''s wrong, son?" she asked softly.


    Luca couldn''t quite grasp why he had applied for the job in the first place. He had seen the ad in a newspaper while at work at the factory. He disliked racing and everything about it. He even disliked the town his family had moved to, with its constant buzz around the race track each week. The teeth of poverty had gnawed at him the very moment he applied for this job.


    Now, seeing the result with a clearer head, and the smell of potatoes shimmering in the pot behind them, Luca''s original feelings toward racing returned. "Silly me, Mom. Just forget about it. I have no intention of working at some race circuit," Luca muttered, pushing the paper aside and focusing on his bruises.


    Luca''s mother''s frown deepened as she stared at him with a mix of disbelief and concern. "I don''t understand, Lukey? You just got a job paying $500 per week, and you are saying silly you? Silly you indeed!"


    "Mom, please, let''s just drop this¡ª"


    "Drop what? No!" She boomed, trying to keep her voice low as she checked his skull. "Did they hit you hard up here? My son would never turn down such an offer, and¡­" Mrs. Rennick''s words trailed off as her gaze grew distant. The realisation that this was more than just a rejection of the job hit her: it was grief about something that happened years ago, something that had changed their entire lives.


    She gulped, lowering her voice as she peered into his freckled face. "Honey, don''t tell me it''s because of your father?"


    Luca locked gazes with her, his eyes filled with tiredness and frustration as he gritted his teeth. "I prefer I don''t tell you anything else about this. Let''s eat and go to bed," he said.


    Mrs. Rennick shook her head, gently holding his arm down. "You can''t let what happened with your dad keep you from moving forward, Lukey. What happened doesn''t define your path; it''s how you respond that matters," she whispered.


    "There is progress, mom, there are lots of paths to come, but I won''t take any that deals with racing," he muttered his reply.


    "Are you afraid of your life? You won''t be racing, you will only be an official there, a marshal," she persuaded.


    "My life''s not in danger."


    "Then what is it? You can''t expect me to be at ease knowing you turned down a good-paying job that could help us," she said, tears forming in her eyes already. "Is it because you''ll be publicly visible? Because your friends might see you at the track? Tell me something, Luca, so I can understand."


    Luca shook his head slowly. Yes, it was about the fact that his father had been a professional Formula One racer and had died in a tragic racing accident. Luca was still struggling to cope with the loss, especially given the close bond he had with his father.


    And yes, many of his mates he knew were planning to attend the race tomorrow, and seeing him working at the track would only compound the humiliation he had felt all his life.


    But after looking at his mother''s face and their cramped two-bedroom apartment, Luca felt a pang of shame. Who am I kidding? He had a potential good-paying job, having no idea how long it might last for him due to its urgency tag, and he was here letting his emotions cloud his judgement. He cursed himself silently.


    "Fine, mom, I''ll take the job," he muttered.


    Mrs. Rennick''s frown instantly turned into a smile as she gently clasped his hands. "You''ll call the number on the letter and claim your spot?"


    "I will, mom, do not worry," Luca replied, forcing a smile.


    "Thank you so much!" Mrs. Rennick cried out, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca''s heart melted, though the embrace stung his bruises a bit.


    The rest of the night proceeded as usual, albeit later than usual. After having his dinner and a cold bath, Luca slipped into his only pair of pajamas and entered the room he shared with Sophia.


    He sank into his bed, staring at the ceiling with the job acceptance letter and a telephone in his grasp. He could hear Sophia''s cries and complaints about their mother''s punishment, but he chose not to respond. Listening was good enough for her, and soon she drifted off to sleep.


    With the serenity and quietness he desired, Luca dialed the number on the letter. The call was answered immediately.


    To his surprise, the conversation went smoothly. They confirmed he had been selected to fill the vacant position for tomorrow''s game, with a payment of $500 to be made immediately after. They also mentioned that he had called just in time, as they had begun considering other alternatives.


    Maybe the universe wants me to do it.


    A thought crossed Luca''s mind. He rolled off his bed and reached for the shelf beneath an old TV stand. He drew open the shelf, a cloud of dust making him sneeze. It had been years since he last opened this shelf, not even after their move.


    He reached inside and pulled out an old gaming console, coated in dust as well. Blowing off the surface, Luca connected the game box to the TV and turned it on. The screen flickered with colorful bars before displaying the gaming interface.


    Luca''s heart ached as he glanced at the second console. He remembered playing on this set with his father, who always made time for him. He sighed deeply and selected the Racing Mode on the screen, deciding to play until sleep took over.

 Chapter 2 First & Last Day As A Track Marshal

    As soon as it was break of day, Luca leaped out of bed. He had left home before sunrise, something he often did, so today was no different. Leaving his family behind, he pocketed a few dollar bills and hailed a cab to the Stadhaven Circuit on the edge of the city.The Circuit was vast, a newly constructed venue in the town that Luca had hoped would bring healing to his family, just for Formula 1 to return to them once again.


    Luca faced difficulties with security, only being allowed through after he showed them the pass message from the acceptance letter he had received. With that evidence, they reluctantly let him in, directing him to the Operations Manager''s office.


    "You say your last name is Rennick?" the secretary asked, her eyes scanning Luca as he stood before her, his hands trembling slightly.


    "Yes," Luca replied firmly. "Is there another meaning to the name I should be aware of?"


    "No, it''s nothing," the secretary muttered, forcing a smile. "I just thought the name was familiar, that''s all. Follow me, I''ll take you to my boss; he''ll brief you."


    Luca followed the young woman, taking a good look around the empty track, neatly prepared for the afternoon''s event. The bleachers were vacant as well, the morning dew emphasizing and highlighting their comfort.


    "Is this the lad?" Mr. Mallow, assistant to the Operations Manager, inquired as the secretary approached. He was dressed casually in a navy blue sweater and joggers. "This isn''t the place to look like you just walked off the street. Racing circuits are a business, and we can''t afford to drag in the dirt. Don''t want to sound harsh, son, but believe me, boss is even tougher."


    Luca felt a flush of embarrassment but bit back his irritation. "Sorry, sir. It was a rushed morning."


    "I believe you, son," Mallow said. "Clad in a marshal uniform, you''ll look much better. Come, I''ll help you find the right size."


    "Let me see the boy first," a voice thundered from behind a glass door. The figure behind the door pushed it open, revealing his menacing presence. "Rennick, you say your name is? Why come by this time?! You are late!" The man boomed through the early morning air. He had a stubbly beard, glasses, and a severe frown.


    "There''s still plenty of time before noon, Mr. Vance. The Federation might not even know we''ve made a change to our staff," Mallow interjected, defending Luca, who felt diminutive despite being as tall as the other men.


    Vance chuckled derisively, surveying Luca from head to toe. "Are you kidding me? Just one look at this lad, and it''s obvious he''s from the streets," he sneered. "Have him ready before 9. I''ll show him what''s what."


    Luca stared hard at the man as he disappeared into the room he had emerged from, leaving him and Mallow on the high rails. "Alright kid, you''ve been hired as a track marshal. That means you''ll be out on the circuit, keeping an eye on the track, flagging down issues, and making sure no one''s cutting corners¡ªthat''s just the majors. It''s not glamorous, but it''s important.


    You understand?" Mallow asked, flagging an arm around Luca''s neck.


    Luca forced the lump in his throat down, nodding softly. "I understand," he replied. Luca knew the role of a track marshal well. He was familiar with almost everything about racing and its lore, even though he wished he could forget it all one day.


    Mallow directed Luca through the pristine facility to a locker room where he changed into a crisp white tracksuit, the standard uniform for track race staff. The clean, sterile environment of the locker room made the transition from casual to professional stark.


    Minutes later, he was led outside, where other track marshals were already repeating their drills, preparing the Circuit for the influx of spectators.


    Mr. Vance was relentless in his instruction, emphasizing the minutiae of a track marshal''s duties. Although Mr. Vance made it seem difficult, Luca could tell he had almost nothing to do but stay in the middle of two track ways, scanning for hazards, debris, or any irregularities, and attending to any racers who might crash.


    It seemed to Luca that the other marshals handled the more demanding tasks, making him feel as though he was merely a placeholder, here to complete their number.


    A sense of relief washed over him as he realized he wouldn''t have to meet anyone''s high expectations. Just live this through, he told himself.


    Two hours before the race, and the Stadhaven Circuit had become crowded with people, cheering and buzzing with excitement. The grandstands were packed to capacity, a sea of fans donning the colors of their favorite teams, waving flags, and holding up banners.


    Luca could hear the distant sound of the commentator, announcing the VIPs present in the circuit, the morning sun beaming over the landscape of tarred road.


    As directed, the track marshals were to move out and take their respective positions. Luca felt his feet grow cold in his white sneakers as he walked across the first lane to take his wing. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his face cap, pulling it down to shield his face.


    With his cap on and his marshal uniform blending into the orange wave of other marshals, he believed no one would be able to recognize him. However, just as he was settling into position at the middle of both lanes, his eyes caught a familiar sight in the grandstands¡ªa group of teenagers, crowded together, snickering loudly.


    Instantly, Luca recognized them, and unfortunately, they recognized him as well. The group erupted in laughter, their mocking voices cutting through the crowd noise like a sharp, unpleasant echo.


    "What''s freckle boy doing there?!"


    "Another life hustle, I see!"


    "Hey! Is that part of his community service?!"


    Luca''s stomach churned and his face burned with embarrassment, prompting him to pull his cap lower to shield his face. Determined to ignore them, he forced his gaze to the bustling Circuit, focusing on performing his job well and earning the promised $500. If I do well, they might even hire me permanently!


    Though he wasn''t interested, Luca knew a thing or two about the race to be held this afternoon. Seeing the number of men in suits positioned in the glass rooms above the pits, and the sleek, flashy race cars lined up below, Luca could tell this was somewhat an important game. It was one held between some of the most prestigious teams in the main division.


    He had heard Haddock Racing, Bueseno Velocit¨¤, and Squadra Corse from the commentator.


    The race began an hour later, and Luca spent most of his time retrieving any dangerous debris thrown onto the track by the crowd. Once the race was underway, a senior marshal advised him not to step onto the track again unless responding to a Code 2 emergency of helping a racer.


    Luca adhered to this advice, staying put and absorbing the roar of the crowd while his eyes were glued to the giant screen displaying the race. He couldn''t believe that he was on a race track, getting a free A-class view of the race. This would have been a dream come true for him when he was younger, but now, not so much.


    The whistling sound of speed danced in his ears, followed by the thunderous roar of machinery. Shifting his gaze from the giant screen to the horizon where the track met the edge, Luca saw the leading cars approaching the end of their first lap. They would soon zoom past him while doing so.


    A shiver raced down Luca''s spine as he bent his knee into the position typical of marshals. In seconds, two cars streaked by with such blistering speed that they seemed to slice through the air, the force of their passing sending a cold wind that pushed him back.


    Before he could regain his composure, the next three cars hurtled past, intensifying his disorientation. "Fuck!" Luca cursed, his head down and his uniform billowing in the wind.


    He had no idea racing felt so perilous up close. How in the world did these racers handle it? The speed was surreal, the force overwhelming¡ªlike standing precariously close to the edge of a cliff, one misstep away from being swept into the abyss. How could anyone endure this day after day? And not just survive but master it?


    The fact that one wrong swerve might take someone''s life churned butterflies into Luca''s stomach. Remembering his father''s cause of death, Luca confirmed that one wrong swerve did take someone''s life.


    Taking a deep breath, Luca felt a momentary relief as the cars had passed. He braced himself for the next time they would zoom through the same lane for another lap. Suddenly, another marshal from the team rushed up to him, waving a yellow flag. He handed it to Luca and started to walk away without explaining.


    "Why this?" Luca shouted, his voice trembling slightly as he gripped the yellow flag tightly. His words were swallowed by the roar of the spectators, and he struggled to hear the response. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Debris up ahead from a minor scrape!" the marshal yelled back quickly. He pointed toward a bend a few hundred meters away. "Signal caution for the next drivers coming through! Stay on the edge and don''t step too far in!"


    Luca nodded, watching the marshal sprint back to his post before the cars screamed past this section again. Seems I''ve got an upgrade, Luca told himself, examining the yellow flag. He was already knowledged on its importance in signaling caution to the racers.


    Glancing around and taking a quick peek at the giant screen, Luca positioned himself closer to the outer edge of the track, doing his best to ignore the taunts of his mocking peers in the stands. He started waving the flag even before he could hear the approaching engines, believing it was better to be early than late.


    He made sure his foot was firmly in the caution zone, his arms and hands holding the flag slightly out of the danger area, toward the edge of the wide racing track. As the sound of machinery filled his ears, Luca waved the flag more vigorously, bracing himself for the speeding cars that were swiftly navigating the bends.


    The roar of the engines grew louder, and Luca struggled to keep a firm grip on the flag with his sweaty hands. The cars emerged with a fury and determination to complete their laps. Luca watched, eyes wide, as two cars¡ªone red and one black¡ªraced neck and neck, the black car slightly behind, attempting an overtaking maneuver.


    The track narrowed at the bend just meters from where he stood, making the move seem both risky and reckless.


    Luca''s eyes widened, his senses sharpening as he noticed the approaching danger. Without warning, the overtaking driver made a sharp move, trying to squeeze through the bend and claim first position before the end of the lap. Luca''s heart leapt as the car veered dangerously close to the edge¡ªtoward him!


    "And we''ve got an aggressive move from number 17, trying to overtake on the inside¡ªoh, that''s too tight! He''s losing control! Watch out¡ª"


    Dropping the flag, Luca tried to run as the crowd''s screams of fear filled the air. The car, now out of control, clipped the outer boundary and hurtled toward him with terrifying speed.


    Before Luca could react, he felt an excruciating pain in his spine as the vehicle crashed into him with relentless force, sending his body flying through the air like a ragdoll.


    The world around him instantly blurred and faded, his senses growing dull as he crashed hard onto the other lane. The distant wail of a siren and the pounding of hurried footsteps reached his ears, but they seemed muffled and distant.


    Amidst the encroaching darkness that blurred his view of the afternoon sky, a new sound began to emerge, cutting through the chaos.


    [Your fate and the fate of Formula 1 are intertwined. You have been chosen. The Formula 1 System is now bound to you]


    [SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]


    [SYSTEM MERGING COMPLETE!]


    [Congratulations, you have attained the Formula 1 System]

 Chapter 3 My Newfound System

    Luca woke up in an unfamiliar room, his head pounding as he blinked against a harsh white light. Taking a look around, he realized he was in a clinic room¡ªthe Circuit''s medical bay, judging by the indistinct chatter of people. He groaned in pain, noting the bandages wrapped around several parts of his body. The dull ache made it hard to breathe, let alone move.Suddenly, the same synthetic voice that had spoken to him just after the accident echoed in his mind again, clear as day, despite the pounding in his head.


    [FORMULA 1 SYSTEM HAS FULLY ACTIVATED AND BONDED WITH HOST!]


    Luca wasn''t sure if his mind was playing tricks on him. His vision was still slightly blurry as he tried to take in the empty clinic room. He wiped his eyes clear and forced his aching body to shift into a sitting position on the soft bed. I had gotten into an accident. A car struck me. How am I alive?!


    [THE FORMULA 1 SYSTEM, A SYSTEM THAT WILL HELP HOST BECOME THE BEST RACER IN THE WORLD]


    Luca''s breath caught in his throat. What? Is this real? His heart raced as he scanned the empty room, searching for a sign that someone else had heard the voice. But no, it was inside his head. A hallucination, maybe?


    But it felt too clear. Too vivid.


    Before he could even begin to make sense of the confusion, the voice interrupted again, and this time it came with an interface before him.


    [System Unlocking Activity Panel...]


    [Activity Panel Unlocked]


    [System Commencement In Progress...]


    Luca''s mouth dropped agape as he stared at the blue, holographic screen before him, resembling a car''s windscreen. He looked around in confusion, his face etched with fear. A System? he thought with a shuddering breath. Luca had always believed these were fictional¡ªthings he only saw in manhwas¡ªbut here he was, becoming the host of the Formula 1 System.


    [System Activity Commenced!]


    [Do you accept Rookie Bundle?]


    [Y / N]


    Unable to comprehend what was happening, Luca stared at the digital interface. After a few seconds of bewildered hesitation, he selected [YES]. He saw no reason to select [NO] and was curious to find out where this strange phenomenon would lead him.


    [Congratulations! Rookie Bundle would be embedded into your Activity!]


    Luca swallowed, surprisingly finding the strength to sit upright as the interface before him followed the movement of his head, maintaining a 10-inch distance. I have a System? Luca thought aloud, a tinge of excitement beginning to overwhelm him.


    He glared at the interface, expecting it to do something more, but it remained dormant with the last words still displayed. Eventually, he noticed an icon in the upper right corner labeled [STATUS]. It was blinking softly, suggesting he should probably select it.


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Personal Information:


    Name: Luca Rennick


    Age: 18


    Nationality: Italian ]


    Luca was shocked as he scrolled through the profile tab. This thing knows me. What in the world?!


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 70kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 12%


    Muscle Mass: 29%


    Strength: 2


    Stamina: 1 S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Endurance: 5


    Agility: 2


    Intelligence: 5 ]


    Strength just 2? Luca asked himself. Of all the work I do everyday, how can my strength be just 2? He continued reading, his brows furrowed in concentration as he went over to his Stats.


    [Personal Stats:


    Nickname: None


    Status: Uncontracted


    Salary: $0


    Team: None


    Race Wins: 0


    Podium Finishes: 0


    Pole Positions: 0]


    "Damn," Luca said out loud, grimacing at the stats he had just read. They were horrible, but he couldn''t blame himself, he was never a racer to begin with.


    [Skills & Techniques: (Current skills and techniques are given to you by default) Total Grading - F


    Reflexes: 10


    Overtaking Skill: 5


    Track Awareness: 10


    Others (Locked) ]


    Luca heaved a sigh when he reached the end of the [STATUS] bar, realising it wasn''t a dream. He had indeed been granted a System. But why? What for?


    Luca had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with racing after it claimed his father''s life. Although he loved the sport dearly, he couldn''t come to terms with being in the same similar surroundings where he witnessed his father''s race car tumble out of control before exploding into a torrent of flame.


    "Why choose me?" Luca asked, wincing slightly at a sudden sharp pain that had erupted in his head without warning.


    [As I mentioned, your fate and the fate of Formula 1 are intertwined. I am merely your assistant, here to help you achieve your goals]


    "So, you''re intent on making me the best Formula 1 racer ever, even better than my father?" Luca asked.


    [The heights this System will take you bears no apex, it surpasses any comparison with your father''s achievements. Comparing your father''s peak would undermine the Formula 1 System''s potential]


    "I see," Luca whispered. "But I have no experience in the cockpit of a real race car. And the stats you gave me don''t look like they are much of a help," he said and paused. "Would you have given me a different Bundle other than the Rookie''s if I had selected [NO]?"


    [No, host. I was simply seeking for your corporation to proceed. And as for your experience in the game, all the top racers were once normal civilians, weren''t they? With the perfect schedule and sequential training I will draft out for you, I will make this endeavor pleasurable and also memorable]


    Luca nodded softly, though he didn''t entirely like the sound of this. Was this another way the universe was bringing more pain to his family? By becoming a Formula 1 racer, he might meet the same fate as his father, leaving his mother and sister to face a harsh world alone, a world that had never acknowledged the family of the famous Rennick the Rocket after his death.


    But Luca just realised that he had indeed faced the same fate as his father, and this System prevented that from happening. He wasn''t sure if it was the pain in his head, but was Luca actually considering being a racer?¡ªa dream he once held close to his heart since he was little, and dropped it during his teenage years?


    Before Luca could think any further or communicate with his newfound System, the door to his clinic flew open, and several figures trooped in.

 Chapter 4 Interpellation

    A group of men entered the clinic room where Luca stood. Two of them, he quickly recognized as Mr. Vance and his assistant, Mr. Mallow. A petite nurse maneuvered through the suits of imposing men, a smile on her face as she approached Luca."How are you feeling now, dear?" she asked, inspecting his bandaged head. "These men are here to ask you a few questions, okay?" Peering into his eyes, she urged his comprehension, and Luca slowly nodded nervously.


    His eyes flicked to Mallow, who had his hands in his pockets, before shifting to Vance, whose arms were folded. Luca nearly shivered when he met Vance''s gaze, which seemed to hold a menacing intensity as if he wanted to devour and tear Luca apart.


    One of the other men in suits spoke up once the nurse left the room, leaving them with the boy on the bed. "We are here to question you on some specific things, and we would like you to answer in detail," the Asian man said with a stark face. "Do not look at your supposed employers. Look at us, the Federation Officials. We are the ones conducting this interrogation.


    Let''s say they are just here to make you feel less nervous."


    Less nervous?! His eyes are stabbing me to death!


    Luca cleared his throat before replying, ensuring his voice came out firm and unthreatened. "The Federation Officials?" he asked for clarity, surprised that he was before some high-ranking men of power, or rather, men who were directly or indirectly under men who wielded power.


    "Yes... Luca," the Asian man replied with a pause, his arms crossed behind his back as he raised a brow. "That is your name, am I right?"


    "Yes, it is."


    "Good. I will start by saying we are sorry for the accident that nearly cost you your life. It was a terrible thing to happen to someone as young as you," he said with another sharp pause, glaring at his colleagues. "But this wouldn''t have happened if you were an official member of the track marshals, would it?"


    Luca noticed that Vance grew uneasy after the Asian man''s last words. He was tapping his shoe on the floor, his tongue flicking across his lips, and his chin moving left and right.


    "I¡ªI don''t understand," Luca stammered.


    "Luca Rennick, did Mr. Vance here hire you to work as a track marshal for today''s race?"


    Luca''s heart began to pound in his ears, a trickle of sweat dribbling down his neck. His gaze flickered anxiously around the room as he tried to find the right words to reply, when "yes" was simply the answer.


    "Y¡ªyes," Luca answered, stealing a glance at Vance, who looked enraged by his affirmative response. Wait?! What''s going on here?! Is he trying to deny that?!


    Before Luca could piece things together, another question was thrown at him. "And did Mr. Vance train you on the responsibilities of a track marshal?"


    "Yes."


    "He did?" The Asian man asked, raising an eyebrow in feigned surprise, which Luca could easily tell. "If I may ask, how long was the duration of this training? A week? Five days? Two days?"


    Luca swallowed, deciding it would be best to answer correctly and bail himself out of what seemed to be going on between the men. "Two hours," he answered. "I was only trained for two hours."


    The Asian man smiled briefly, as if he was expecting the answer. Nodding his head, he continued, "And the hour after that, you marshaled for an official race, am I right?"


    "Yes, sir," Luca said, feeling Vance''s gaze piercing through him.


    "So, do you mean to say that the accident that occurred today between 26-year-old Squadra Corse star Antonio Luigi and 18-year-old fraud Luca Rennick was caused by your incompetence, ignorance, and amateurism as a track marshal?" the Asian man asked, adjusting to a firm stance.


    What?!


    The room was laced with silence after the man''s question, all eyes on the boy on the bed.


    Is he trying to say the accident was my fault? It was not my fault at all! The racer was reckless; he was trying to overtake at a bend and crashed into me. That was what happened! I did my job as a track marshal well!


    "I''m sorry, sir, but I do not understand what you mean by that," Luca said, refusing to answer such a question. "The driver had left the track and hurtled toward me¡ª"


    "Left the track?" the man interrupted Luca. "It sure seemed to me that you were the one who edged closer to the track. Sure, he did veer off lane, but kid, if you were a trained marshal, you would have known being in such a spot would put you in grave danger."


    Luca frowned, evident displeasure and anger etched on his face. He pushed himself upright, shaking his head. I know the rules of racing inside and out. I know where a marshal can stand. "You can''t tell me that, sir," he protested.


    "I believe I just did. The unethical hiring of untrained personnel is what led to this casualty¡ª"


    "No, I was in the right track. The driver veered off insensitively," Luca defended himself, his voice rising despite the ache in his head. "I was on the right path," he repeated with determination. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Asian man stared at Luca intently, as if studying the internal injuries that had supposedly responded well to medication. The faint hum of the clinic''s generators filled the air, along with the sound of the blowing AC. Luca glanced at the other men, who seemed to harbor varying sentiments about him.


    Quickly piecing the situation together, Luca concluded that these Federation Officials were investigating the incident, if he could call it an investigation at all. They were clearly one-sided and biased, arriving with the mindset that Luca was at fault before even asking questions. It seemed to Luca that Mr.


    Vance, the Operations Manager of the Circuit, might face repercussions for hiring an inexperienced marshal for an official race.


    Fuck, Luca cursed in his mind. If he had realized this earlier, he would have answered in favor of Vance.


    The Asian man opened his mouth to speak when the door to the clinic room swung wide. He glanced in that direction, his expression displeased as the nurse revealed herself. "I thought you said you''d give us some time?" he asked, irritation clear in his voice.


    "I''m sorry, sir. But his mother insists she sees her son," the nurse replied, glancing behind her. "You can come in, ma."


    Luca''s heart raced as he heard the word "mother." His eyes lit up when Mrs. Rennick entered the room. "Mom," he called, trying to draw her attention as she briefly locked gazes with the menacing figures around her.


    "Luca, my son. Oh my goodness," she cried, tears brimming in her eyes as she rushed toward Luca. "Why does this keep happening to my family?"


    "Mom, it''s alright. I''m fine now," Luca reassured her, recalling his System.


    "Fine?! Who knows how many broken bones and torn muscles they inflicted on you?!" Mrs. Rennick exclaimed, inspecting her son''s bandaged body.


    "It''s alright, ma''am. He will be fine; the doctors have assured us he will be," Mallow interjected.


    Mrs. Rennick shot him a fierce look. "Don''t you dare tell me that. What if something had gone wrong, hmm? What kind of reckless racers do you have here?! Don''t they have eyes to see my son?!"


    "Mrs. Rennick, our investigation claims that Luca unintentionally edged into a motorable path on the track, leaving that racer momentarily disoriented," the Asian man stated, his face devoid of emotion.


    Luca couldn''t believe how he could lie so blatantly, showing no signs of remorse.


    "Your investigation? Are you questioning my son?!"


    "We were¡ª"


    "Shut up, and leave. He will be speaking to none of you anymore," Mrs. Rennick hushed the man.


    The Federation Officials murmured among themselves; even Vance and Mallow spoke indistinctly. "But ma''am, we need to hear from your son to come to a conclusion on what transpired and how to prevent more events like this from occurring," the Asian man persisted.


    "Oh, you will be hearing from his lawyer very soon," Mrs. Rennick hissed. Noting the confused expressions on their faces, she continued, "Yes, we are going to sue the Federation, the driver''s team, and you too, the Circuit''s management."


    "Mother?" Luca looked at his mother in disbelief, expecting it to be a joke, but she was goddamn serious.


    The Asian man didn''t seem in the least worried by Luca''s mother''s threat. He shrugged and nodded once. "Alright, ma''am, we''ll take our leave and await the charges," he said starkly before walking out of the room, his colleagues tagging along.


    Vance spat out malice, pointing at Luca. "I knew you''d be a trouble seeking bastard," he hissed before stomping out. Luca''s mother didn''t hold back, throwing insults at him as he passed.


    Left with Mallow, the middle-aged man walked to Luca''s bed and pulled out his wallet. Counting five $100 bills, he dropped them on the mattress. "I believe this is your payment," he said, pocketing his wallet as he tapped Luca''s hand. "Get well, kiddo."

 Chapter 5 My Newfound System. 2

    Luca was discharged the same day after being told he would be able to heal up by himself and that further staying in the clinic might result in being charged, considering the fact that his mother had proclaimed her lawsuit against the management of the Circuit.After boarding a cab alone, Luca stood before his family''s apartment building, studying the old, unappealing piece of architecture. This would be their fifth year living in this place. Luca had been trying his possible best in school, but when funds couldn''t support and invest in his education, he came to the conclusion that this might be their fate forever, unless a miracle happened.


    A miracle has happened. Still uncertain about the will the Formula 1 System had set out for him, Luca was anxious about where this endeavor might lead him. But one thing he was certain of was that this System was the miracle that would be able to lift his family from poverty¡ªa very malicious path that had thrown his family into poverty in the first place.


    Urngh! Luca groaned, feeling the internal pain at his side while he slowly walked up the stairs.


    Approaching their door, he pulled out his mother''s keys, which she had given him before going straight to the police station and the city''s district to file the lawsuit. Luca knew his mother wasn''t just doing this to claim justice for him.


    She was doing this to extort money from the Federation as damages compensation, believing this was the right case that would grant such if they came out victorious.


    Luca rattled the door lock before he finally found the hole. Shoving and twisting the key, he pushed open the door and entered their home. Seeing Sophia standing like a ghost before him startled Luca, and he almost yelped. "What the¡ª! What are you doing here? No school?" he asked her, shutting the door behind him.


    Sophia looked very unhappy, dressed in only a bogus t-shirt¡ªone Luca immediately recognized as his. "There is school," she replied. "Mom grounded me from school and locked me in the house."


    "She did that?" Luca asked, genuinely surprised, though his face didn''t show it. This was a first, but when it came to his mother and sister, he had learned to expect the impossible. He took off his footwear while Sophia complained.


    "Yes, she did. And that¡ª?" She said with a quick pause, bending to inspect the crafted piece of metal in Luca''s grasp. "That''s my key!"


    "This?" Luca asked, holding up the key. At that moment, he recognized it was Sophia''s. How smart is Mom?


    "Yes. She took it; give it back."


    Rolling his eyes, he tossed the key to her and passed, walking into the small living room. "I hope you had something to eat all this while? You must have been bored," he said aloud, and she responded positively. "C''mon, come and help me out of my shirt."


    "Whaa? You can''t get out of a shirt? Are you a kid?"


    "Just get over here and help me; my body hurts and I can''t stretch that far," Luca said, tugging at the end of his shirt.


    Sophia dragged herself to the living room and helped Luca pull off his shirt, surprised at the groaning sounds he made. "What the fuck! What happened to you?!" she yelled, her eyes fixed on the bandaged abdomen, where his skin gleamed red.


    "I got into an accident. A vehicle hit me; I''ll be fine," Luca said, carefully sinking into the sofa behind him.


    Sophia stared at him, shaking her head with pity that Luca found amusing. "What about dear old Mom?" she asked, glaring around in search of her presence. "She didn''t come with you?"


    "No. She parted ways for something important."


    A wide smile spread across Sophia''s face, her fingers twinkling with joy. Like a fox, she dashed into their room.


    Luca sluggishly helped himself to a meal¡ªhe hadn''t eaten since today. Wondering if he might have been the cause of the accident, he had a few unreliable theories. Perhaps his lack of food energy made it hard to see the track lane''s edge clearly? Nah, I never eat every day to work, and I see everything fine.


    Minutes later, Sophia emerged, dressed in party wear. "What¡ªwhere are you going?" Luca asked.


    "Tiffany''s house," she replied, swirling around to show Luca how she looked. However, he ignored her.


    "I believe Mom grounded you?" Luca recalled the obvious, raising an eyebrow.


    Ceasing her swirl of euphoria, Sophia paused. "She''s not here... won''t you let me go?"


    Luca pondered her words. He knew Sophia to be a very maliceful person, and she would never forget today if he refused her. He wondered why she was so eager to be outside with her peers and people older than her. When he was her age, he disliked such things.


    After a few seconds, he came to a conclusion. "You can go," Luca permitted. "But 6 p.m. is when you return," he added quickly.


    Sophia frowned at that command, but she was happy nonetheless. Giving her thanks, she skipped out of their apartment.


    Luca shifted his concentration to the air before him, staring hard for his System to appear. He had sent Sophia out so he could communicate freely with it.


    [You can just say System Display, host]


    Luca totally forgot how frightening the System''s voice was. He swallowed and said, "System display."


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    The digital interface appeared before him once again, and there was a brief loading bar.


    [ANALYSING DATA AND ATTRIBUTES...]


    [Welcome.]


    "Thank you," Luca said instinctively, his body tingling with anxiety at communicating with such an entity.


    [When we last communicated, I sensed the uncertainty in your voice about becoming the host of the Formula 1 System. Does that hesitation still linger within you?]


    Luca took a deep breath. This choice he was about to make would change his life for good or for worse¡ªa path he had long promised himself he would never take, and here it was, finding him instead.


    Is it the fear of dying in an accident just like Dad, or of not being as good as him? Luca asked himself.


    [You must remember you are your own driver, host. The Formula 1 System is designed to bring out your unique potential, not to make you an echo of someone else.]


    Luca heaved a sigh and accepted, urging the System to proceed. "So, how do we get started?"


    [First, we will begin with your foundational training to build essential skills and reflexes required for the track. You''ll receive daily mental and physical exercises focused on strength, stamina and other attributes. Your body will adapt to the intense demands of racing, improving your endurance and ability to handle high-speed situations.]


    [This foundational training may come as Daily Quests & Missions, which you will need to complete if you are to pave the way for this endeavor.]


    "Wow. Daily Quests and Missions?"


    [Yes. Be warned, host. A few of these quests might not be suitable for your lifestyle or align with your ethics. You are required to complete them before the time duration elapses. If not, points will be deducted from the stats you already have.]


    Luca cleared his throat. That certainly sounded like what the System would do as a punishment. "But I''ll get point increases if I complete the missions?"


    [Certainly, host]


    "What do you mean by some of these training and quests might not align with my lifestyle?" Luca asked skeptically, unsure where this System was taking him. Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [To excel as a racer, your physical condition is critical. You''ll need to build and maintain the attributes required to handle G-forces and long races. This means adopting a rigorous training regime and following a strict diet that most racers adhere to¡ªhigh in protein, balanced carbs, and healthy fats, which may not align with your current lifestyle.]


    [My statement was merely an understanding of the financial strain this might bring you.]


    Luca''s eyes widened. "I thought you would provide everything and I''d just do the work!" he bawled. "Don''t you have a Shop or something?"


    [I am sorry, host. But the Formula 1 System has no shop tab where one can purchase from the System. This System is designed for raw sacrifices and determination, and I will only keep a stern record of that.]


    Luca lowered his head in disappointment, staring at the plate of noodles he had devoured. Surely, a pro Formula 1 racer would have nothing to do with such a meal.


    [I will give you the list of the cheapest food items to kick off your training.]


    [Food items:


    -Eggs


    -Oatmeal


    -Beans


    -Lean meats


    -Brown rice ]


    [However, this is only the starting point, a simple list, host. Your body will require much more than just cost-efficient food as you progress. In time, your diet will need to evolve into something more specific to your needs as a racer¡ªfocused on speed recovery, energy efficiency, and muscle endurance. You''ll need to invest not just in food, but in proper nutrition.]


    Luca stared at the food items on the digital interface, visualizing their prices. He could afford them now, but could he continue to do so?


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been issued!]


    [-¡¤-JOG AROUND FIVE CITY BLOCKS TWO TIMES-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: COMPLETE BEFORE 8 PM]


    [This will help enhance your cardiovascular endurance and improve your stamina.]


    "What? Jog around five city blocks?! I can''t even swing my arms!" Luca complained, turning his back to the System as if it were a person before him.


    [Reward for Completing Thursday Daily Quest: (EXP)


    - Stamina +1


    - Endurance +1 ]


    [Consequence for Failing Thursday Daily Quest: (EXP)


    - Endurance -1


    Consequence for Failing Thursday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Severe muscle spasms induced by low-level electrocution will occur.]


    Luca''s eyes widened in shock as the information hit him like a blow. Muscle spasms? Electrocution? He was just hit by a race car, and this System expected him to be up and running around the whole city?!


    Before he could speak, the screen flickered.


    [Reanalyzing Daily Routine.....]


    [DAILY ROUTINE WOULD COMMENCE OFFICIALLY FRIDAY MORNING¡ª5 AM]


    [Ding!]


    Luca''s heart skipped a beat as the heavy bell-like sound of the System resonated in his ears. Another Daily Quest? If so, no! He swore he would not be doing it.


    [Advanced Mission has been Issued!]


    [-¡¤-ATTAIN YOUR FIRST PROFESSIONAL CONTRACT-¡¤-]

 Chapter 6 Hustle And Headlights

    Luca waited impatiently for Sophia to come back home, just as he''d ordered her to. Much to his surprise, she actually turned up, and just in time too¡ªhis mother walked in only a few minutes later.Mrs. Rennick wasn''t exactly thrilled with Luca''s idea of leaving the house to "return a parcel," as he had told her. However, she trusted her son deeply and let him go, but not before giving him a full update on the progress she had made with the lawsuit in just one day. From the determined way she spoke, Luca began to worry. It seemed like his mother genuinely believed she could win the case.


    The fact that it was against the Stadhaven Circuit, a government-run establishment, and the Racing Federation gave Luca reason to fear she might be biting off more than she could chew. He couldn''t help but feel she was playing with fire.


    Closing the outer door behind him, Luca jogged softly down the stairs, careful to keep his midsection moving, not stiff. It hurt, but in a weirdly satisfying way, almost like it was good to feel such an injury.


    It was getting close to 7 PM, and the sky, which had been painted in dusk moments before, was now fading into night. Luca''s sneakers splashed into a puddle just outside the building, remnants of the heavy rain from last night still lingering around. The scene and events reminded him how much could happen in just 24 hours.


    He inhaled deeply, taking in the damp air mixed with a faint trace of exhaust fumes in the distance.


    Dressed in his leather sports jacket and joggers, Luca pulled out his tiny, box-sized MP3 player and clipped it onto his jacket''s zipper. Plugging in his earpiece, he slid the speakers into his ears and clicked play. A perfect fusion of retrowave and heavy metal buzzed into his ears as he took his first step, beginning his quest to jog around the nearest five city blocks two times.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    The familiar digital screen flashed in front of Luca''s eyes once again, and this time he was certain¡ªno one else could see it but him. Everyone around him continued moving, completely oblivious to what was now happening right in front of him.


    [Host is attempting Thursday''s Daily Quest]


    [ANALYSING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Speed: 4.5 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 107 bpm


    -Stamina: 80% (Poor)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 30m


    -Time: 27 sec ]


    [This is a satisfactory start, host. But I fear your stamina might not be sufficient enough.]


    "Of course it isn''t. I''m injured," Luca muttered under his breath, feeling the strain in his side as he jogged along the sidewalk, weaving past stalls and shops. The statistics on the digital interface in front of him shifted every few seconds, recording each of his steps in real-time.


    [You will have to increase your jogging speed to 6 km/h with time, host, if you want to meet the deadline.]


    [From my calculations, at this speed, you will complete the quest around 8 PM. However, with a pace of 5 km/h or 6 km/h, you could finish 25 minutes or 40 minutes earlier, respectively.]


    "Alright," Luca grunted, focusing on keeping his body steady and rhythmic. His sneakers thudded softly against the concrete, almost in sync with the beat of the music pumping into his ears.


    [Speed increased by 0.7 km/h. Breathing remains steady; heart rate has increased by one beat.]


    In his trance of the jogging quest, Luca had lost track of time, the music carrying him forward. He hadn''t noticed how completely dark it had become, nor the creeping ache spreading through his body. "System, what''s the progress?" he asked, gasping for breath.


    [Two blocks have been covered twice, you are on the first phase of your third]


    "What?!" Luca exclaimed, glancing at the digital screen in disbelief. "That''s six more blocks to go?!"


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Speed: 5.1 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Stamina: 30% (Poor)


    -Breathing: Hiked


    -Distance covered: 422m


    -Time: 5 min ]


    "I don''t think I can jog any further, System," Luca gasped as his speed noticeably slowed, his body screaming for rest.


    [This is excellent training to increase your Endurance, host. Do not abandon this quest halfway, or you will face the consequences.]


    Luca yanked the earpiece plugs from his ears and bent forward, leaning on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "I can take a short break, can''t I?" he panted, sweat dripping down onto the damp sidewalk below him.


    [Only for a few seconds. Three minutes maximum.]


    [Refreshing is not allowed until I permit it.]


    Fuck! What the heck is this System? My training coach?! He tried to mutter the words aloud, but his voice strained, barely escaping his lips as his breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. The evening''s darkness wrapped around him like a heavy blanket, his fatigue only deepening as his legs felt like lead.


    Maybe it was the cold breeze of the approaching night making his steps heavier, or maybe the genuine exhaustion had finally set in.


    If this is what it takes to get fit enough to become a racer, then what does it take to actually succeed as one?


    Speaking of becoming a successful racer, the System had already thrown him his first major mission: secure his first professional contract. Luca hadn''t figured out how the hell he''d do that yet, but at least, thankfully, there was no punishment attached to this one. Still, he knew he couldn''t ignore it. Missions issued by the System were inevitable steps¡ªunavoidable, no matter how daunting.


    As Luca soaked in every second of the break, his weary eyes caught the faint glow of approaching headlights creeping up from the side. The light grew stronger, slicing through the dark. With a sharp inhale, Luca spun around, his muscles screaming in protest at the sudden movement.


    To his surprise, a sleek red convertible rolled up, its headlights slicing through the evening shadows like twin beacons. The car''s loud music echoed in the night, drawing unwanted attention as it came to a stop at the edge of the road, right beside Luca.


    Luca squinted into the open seats, and immediately recognized the smug, youthful faces crammed into the flashy car. The driver, a college student Luca knew all too well, leaned back with a cocky grin, one hand lazily on the wheel.


    "Hey, look who it is! I could spot that sad jog from a mile away," the guy drawled, his voice soaked in arrogance. "Thought you got mowed down by a race car or somethin''. But nah, here you are, runnin'' like you''re some kinda machine. My man never rests, huh?"


    The others in the car¡ªtwo boys and two girls¡ªburst into laughter, their faces lit up with playful mockery.


    "Tell me Luca, how did you even manage to sneak in as a marshal? My God, they could have sensed your pitiful self just like we did instantly," one of the girls said. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca didn''t move, his hands still resting on his knees as he stared at them. Tyrants, he thought bitterly. I once had a rich father.


    "Here dawg," one of the boys in the back with jet-black hair muttered, digging into his pockets. He eventually pulled out a handful of crumpled twenty-dollar bills, too many for Luca to count at once but clearly more than five. "Here you go for your sorry pasta ass!" he sneered, tossing the money toward Luca with a mocking grin.


    Luca glared at them with a steely, apathetic gaze, struggling to comprehend why they still clung to their high school antics. Each of them in the car had some connection to him, and the sight of the girl in the front, who had hissed moments ago, stirred memories he''d rather forget.


    [Don''t worry, Luca]


    [One day, they''ll be the ones paying for tickets to watch you race. They''ll sit in the stands, watching you claim the number one spot on the podium.]


    [This is day one]


    As it seemed Luca might refuse the money, the boy with the black hair sneered once more, throwing the bills at him with a hateful "Loser" spat from his lips. The green notes fluttered through the air, settling around Luca''s feet before the car sped off, leaving behind a trail of laughter and booming music into the night that seemed to mock him long after they were gone.


    Luca watched the red convertible vanish into the darkness, its taunting echoes lingering in his ears. He glanced down at the scattered bills, his mind racing as he weighed his options. Left and right, he scanned the empty street, then bent down to gather the money. Seven twenty-dollar bills lay in his hands, and he''d be a fool to leave them behind, even if it meant enduring their mockery.


    [RESUME QUEST?]


    [Y / N]


    With a determined sigh, Luca pocketed the cash, feeling a strange mix of pride and frustration. He selected yes, resuming the jogging quest he was only halfway through.


    Straining his muscles and pushing himself with the relentless pounding of his feet, Luca was able to complete his first quest. But it came with extreme pain in his legs and labored breathing as he almost collapsed to the ground when he was done.


    [Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!]


    [You have been rewarded with (EXP)!


    -Stamina +1


    -Endurance +1 ]

 Chapter 7 Two Stops Before Home

    Luca barged into his favorite supermarket, quickly grabbing a bottle of water as his legs trembled nonstop beneath him. Slumping onto the counter, he drank like a camel, draining the chilled, colorless liquid as if it were soda, before requesting another."Lukey, you never told me you now exercise at night," said Josh, the counter attendant and someone Luca knew very well. His tone was inquisitive as he studied the exhausted boy. "Actually, you don''t look like you exercised; you look like you were chased by a cult gang." He paused, narrowing his eyes as he peered into Luca''s face. "Did that happen?"


    Luca shook his head, barely able to stand as he took a blurry look around the buzzing little supermarket. It was illuminated by low ceiling lights, and the outside darkness provided a cozy, secluded atmosphere. That was the very reason he loved this supermarket¡ªit had a sense of belonging and comfort that hovered around its bright white walls.


    Remembering the second reason why he''d come in, Luca pulled out a list of his shopping needs as directed by the System. He had enough money to purchase this first batch, but he wasn''t sure where the funds for the next would come from.


    After greeting Josh, Luca handed him the list, practically begging for his help to shop given his sore legs. As a good friend of Luca''s mother, Josh accepted without hesitation, picking up a basket before walking down the rows of shelves with Luca''s list in hand.


    "Hey there," a sweet voice drifted through the air, warm, playful, and familiar, dragging Luca''s attention as he shifted his head toward the source, momentarily ignoring the heaviness in his legs.


    "Oh, hey, Lana," Luca replied, managing a brief smile and a nod as he took in the beauty of the girl. She stood at the counter, dressed in the supermarket''s staff uniform. While he didn''t know much about her, he was aware she was older than him, which always made him hesitate when it came to approaching her.


    "Josh was right. You do look like someone''s been after you," she said, her voice laced with humor. "This is a workday, and you''re quite early here. Did you skip work?"


    Luca shook his head, ruffling his hair absentmindedly. "No, I didn''t. Spent the whole day running away from my pursuer," he murmured, trying to keep it light.


    Lana burst into laughter, clapping her hands as her youthful voice echoed off the tiles. "Then you came to the right hiding spot!" she exclaimed, her joy infectious. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As she laughed, Luca''s eyes caught the television screen above her head, nestled in the corner of the wall. What drew his attention was the image of an F1 car zooming around a track. He half-expected it to be news about a marshal who had been hit by one of the single-seaters today, but it turned out to be something else entirely.


    "Lana? Could you please turn up the volume?" Luca requested, straining his ears to listen.


    "Oh, sure," she replied quickly, operating the remote with practiced ease.


    "And it''s breaking news that the FIA has officially announced what they''re calling a ''Radical Overhaul'' of the sport we all know and love. Now, folks, brace yourselves¡ªthis could mean significant changes both on and off the track.


    With the introduction of a ''New Format'' and an ''Expansion''¡ªtwo of the major projects they''re set to unveil soon¡ªwe could be standing on the brink of one of the biggest shifts in the history of Formula 1. Stay tuned, because the way we experience the thrill of racing may never be the same again."


    "Woah," Luca muttered instinctively. New Format? What does that mean? Would it make some bad changes?


    "Ah, they''re always looking for a way to make business seem fresh and exciting," Lana said, lowering the volume again.


    "They sure are," Luca muttered, his gaze still glued to the screen, though his mind drifted miles away. He barely registered Josh''s towering figure moving into his peripheral vision. When Luca turned, he saw Josh holding the basket filled with food items. "Oh, thanks, man," he said, taking the basket from him.


    As Josh began tallying the total, Luca inspected the groceries. Is this good enough?


    [For now, host]


    [As you improve both physically and mentally, your diet will evolve accordingly]


    Luca groaned inwardly when the bill was presented to him. He paid quickly, eager to leave, but then his eyes landed on a large poster plastered behind Lana. "Wait... You guys just opened a gym?" he asked, genuinely surprised.


    "Yeah! Really sleek setup, Lukey," Josh replied with a grin, handing him the plastic bag filled with groceries. "You thinking about signing up?"


    "Yes, please."


    Josh raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Lukey, what''s going on? You planning some kind of glow-up or something? Spill the beans."


    "I wish," Luca muttered with a chuckle, his legs still feeling like lead as he dragged himself toward the exit. "Don''t forget, Josh," he called back, stepping out into the cool night air of the city.


    Walking down the street with weary legs, each step felt sluggish, harder to make than the last. His thoughts wandered to his workplace. Maybe he should stop by¡ªout of respect. The System had given him a new direction, one that might soon free him from the exhausting grind he''d endured there.


    Yet, a part of him felt he owed it to the place that had once been his daily routine, even if his future might look different now.


    "You wanna race?" a friend said to Luca, a 40-year-old man wearing a construction hat, his frown deepening. "I thought you hated the sport whenever it came on while we were on break."


    "Ahhh, you scruny fuck," another friend, a 52-year-old sporting a cowboy mustache, growled. "Stop being doluzional and freaking lift a sheet. Dreams remain dreams, lad. In reality...?" He tapped a huge machine that loomed nearby. "This is where you belong."


    "Leave the boy to hop on those toy cars; it''s been a while since I attended a funeral. Whatchu folks say, huh?" Another coworker chimed in, grinning.


    Luca felt a pang of sadness as he listened to the men he worked with every day being so unsupportive. Ignoring their taunts, he focused on his first friend. "I''ve got no choice. It''s... complicated," he replied quickly, his eyes scanning the steel mill''s environment. "And I''m really sorry if my absence caused any problems today."


    "Oh, it caused plenty," the man snickered, shaking his head. "Boss ain''t gonna be too pleased once he gets a look at you. Lucky for you, he ain''t around today."


    Luca bit his lip, feeling a mix of relief and unease at their boss''s absence. "Alright," he said, giving the man a light tap on the shoulder. "Please pass on the info for me."


    "Will do," his friend replied with a nod.


    As he disappeared into the night once more, Luca headed home, his mind racing faster than his tired legs. He was not only contemplating the path he was about to take but also how he would begin it. One thing was clear: he needed to become a contracted racer first.

 Chapter 8 Attributes Advancement

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...][Daily Routine Has Officially Commenced Today]


    [5:30 HYDRATION & MEDITATION: Host will get out of bed and stretch to loosen his muscles. Taking a full glass of water will kickstart your metabolism. Afterwards, you will sit quietly for a few moments. By breathing deeply, you will help release all forms of stress.]


    [6:00 WORKOUT & GROOMING: Your daily workout routine includes Jumping Jacks, Cardio, Strength Training, and Gentle Stretches. Afterward, you''ll take a shower to refresh yourself.]


    [7:00 BREAKFAST & NUTRITION: A nutritious meal and more water to stay hydrated.]


    [You have five minutes to begin your Daily Routine.]


    [While defiance from you might not lead to immediate punishments, ignoring your daily routine will ultimately hinder your progress.]


    Luca grumbled as he pushed his tired arms up, his fists sinking into the comfort of his bed. His legs throbbed with pain, as if the very muscles were on the verge of bursting, and here was the System, dragging him awake even earlier than his usual 6:15 on other days.


    Glancing around the dim room, he noticed Sophia still sleeping soundly, undisturbed by his early rise. He reached for the bottle of water on his nightstand, pouring himself a cup and drinking greedily before exhaling deeply. Meditation, you say?


    [Yes, host. A brief time alone with your thoughts early in the morning helps to calm your nerves, as F1 drivers often feel tense while on the track. This may be your only quiet time before a busy day ahead.]


    Luca nodded and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. After several inhalations and exhalations, he felt a surge of relief wash over his chest. This really is good. I should make this a habit.


    [I believe the next phase will involve the gym you applied to last night. Your home is quite small and lacks the necessary equipment and facilities.]


    "In other words, it''s not a gym," Luca muttered, finding it hard to believe he would have to go to the supermarket once again with his tired legs.


    Turning in his bed, Luca placed his bare feet on the cold floor and attempted to rise. Just as he had expected, his legs buckled under his weight like a loose pillar, sending him back down onto the bed. His legs felt like overcooked spaghetti¡ªnumb and nearly non-existent.


    How do you expect me to do Jumping Jacks in a gym, when I can''t even get there?!


    [This is a justifiable response from your legs. With your +1 Endurance, I believe you can push yourself to walk to the gym as planned.]


    Luca sighed in defeat, gathering his resolve, and pushed himself to his feet, nearly falling back down again as his wobbly legs protested. They felt like jelly, completely unable to support him. He dragged them into the dressing room and managed to pull on a fresh pair of sportswear, sticking with the same sneakers he had worn yesterday.


    Stomping his foot on the floor several times, he hoped that he might overcome the pain with pain.


    Thankful that his mother was still sound asleep, Luca left the house and dashed into the streets once more, his muscles pulsing with discomfort. The morning air was fresh and crisp, a welcome relief as people had already begun their day before 6 a.m.


    Navigating through the brisk dawn air, Luca made his way toward the supermarket. Upon entering, he was greeted by Josh, who couldn''t help but commend him again on this surprising new path he had chosen.


    "Still can''t believe you''re hitting the gym now, Lukey," Josh remarked with a playful grin, handing Luca his ticket and gesturing toward the new gym situated just behind the building. Luca forced a quick smile, trying to mask the growing nerves churning in his stomach.


    As he pushed through the doors into the gym, a gust of cool air greeted him like a refreshing welcome. The place was enormous¡ªlike a parking hall expertly repurposed into a bustling fitness arena. Rows of treadmills buzzed with the rhythm of runners, stationary bikes whirred in sync, and free weights clanked under the strain of dedicated lifters.


    The bright lights illuminated the space, but the mirrored walls made it feel even larger, reflecting countless bodies drenched in sweat and determination. Luca felt a sense of unease creeping in, but he decided to push through that feeling.


    Alright, he told himself, acknowledging the fact that this was his first time in a gym, and from this day forward, he would be spending more time here¡ªor in another gym, for sure.


    Josh led Luca to a spot where he could carry out his exercises with relative ease. After giving his thanks, Luca jumped right into his workout, eager to keep pace with the time duration for each phase of his daily routine.


    Removing his outer jacket, Luca wasted no time and launched straight into Jumping Jacks. Despite the simplicity of the movement, every landing sent a jolt of strain through his leg muscles. He could feel the lingering contraction and pain from the lengths his System had pushed him the day before.


    Within a minute, he completed the set and swiftly moved on to stretching. This was crucial for the flexibility he''d need inside the cramped cockpit of an F1 car. The tight space and sensitive controls demanded precision, and Luca knew that limber muscles would enable him to respond quickly behind the wheel.


    Stretching, at least, came naturally to him, and within two quick minutes, he was done and headed over to the pedaling bike.


    [This exercise will help with your endurance and stamina, host. These two attributes are essential when you''re behind the wheel for 52 laps.]


    He took a deep breath, settling onto the bike, and forced his legs into motion. The pedals turned beneath his feet, and immediately, the burning sensation in his calves returned. The rhythm was painful, but steady, as he forced his weak feet to push down on the pedals, determined not to let his fatigue win.


    After five grueling minutes on the bike, Luca exhaled loudly, the sound cutting through the hum of the gym''s AC and momentarily attracting everyone''s attention. His legs felt like they were on fire as he caught the stares of some other gym-goers. Embarrassed, he slowly dropped his head to the bike''s controls, breathing through his mouth as pain pulsed relentlessly through his legs.


    [Rehydrate, host. Let''s move on to increase your core strength.]


    [Core Strength is essential while in the cockpit. It goes hand in hand with endurance, helping you control the car effectively through high G-forces and maintaining stability during tight corners and fast acceleration.]


    [EXERCISE: SUSPENDED PLANK WITH WEIGHTED SWINGS]


    [EQUIPMENTS: TWO RESISTANCE BANDS & A KETTLEBELL]


    What? What do I need those for?


    [Be ready, host. You are going to push yourself now.]


    [With your feet suspended in the resistance bands, you will be positioned in a traditional plank, your lower body in the air and upper body holding you up.]


    [You will maintain the plank while swinging a kettlebell with one hand across your body to the opposite side, alternating hands with each swing.]


    [You will do this for 30 seconds, 5 repetitions with 1-minute rests in between.]


    What?! I am not aspiring to be a bodybuilder! Why would I have to do such strenuous exercise?! I thought Formula 1 racers didn''t have to go through such. I never saw my father lifting kettlebells; he had a lean figure!


    [Though most Formula 1 racers are graced with a lean body stature, there is a lot of work involved in attaining such a figure, host. That is the truth.]


    [Let us proceed with SUSPENDED PLANK WITH WEIGHTED SWINGS.]


    Luca shook his head, heaving a sigh as he dropped to the ground and lifted his wobbly legs into the air. He hung them into the resistance bands fixed from the ceiling above him. Steadying himself in a plank position, he could already feel the strain approaching, wondering just how long he would survive swinging that heavy piece of metal below him.


    Once he formed a perfect diagonal line, Luca inhaled deeply and reached for the kettlebell. Pushing his right hand against the gym floor, he lifted his upper body as his left hand grabbed the kettlebell''s handle.


    With a deliberate swing, he guided the kettlebell across his body, feeling his chest and abdomen tighten. He gritted his teeth, letting out a silent agonized growl as he repeated the action, his muscles screaming with every swing. His right hand pressed firmly into the gym floor for support while his left arm moved in controlled, rhythmic arcs. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Though Luca wished he could stop, a part of him understood this wasn''t just a test to fortify his strength; it was a lesson in core balance as well. All parts of his upper body, crucial for steering a vehicle, were engaged in this exercise.


    Why am I so pained?! I work tirelessly everyday, carrying hundreds of sheets of metal. This shouldn''t be too hard, but it is!


    [Host, just because you carry heavy loads at work doesn''t mean this will be easy. Your job strains your body, but it doesn''t target your muscles in a healthy or balanced way. It''s constant stress without proper conditioning, which can actually wear you down over time.]


    [The kind of exercise you''re doing now focuses on controlled strength, balance, and endurance. That''s different from merely lifting sheets of metal¡ªthis is about building the right kind of strength gradually and efficiently for high-intensity situations, like the path which I am guiding you toward.]


    Luca huffed and puffed, swinging the kettlebell beneath him like a pendulum, barely managing to push through. Finally, he collapsed to the floor when he was done, his body trembling and muscles aching after being stretched beyond their limits.


    [Good job, host. You can now head over to the next phase of your daily routine.]


    Luca rolled over, lying flat on the gym floor and staring up at the ceiling. This should have earned me a few points, right?


    [Unfortunately, host, you haven''t gained any points from today''s exercise. If you had, I would have notified you instantly.]


    "Are you kidding me?" Luca exclaimed, a sad frown on his face as he struggled to speak between harsh breaths. "After all that effort?"


    [You made progress, host, and your strain has been acknowledged. However, the progress achieved wasn''t sufficient to gain a point toward your attributes. Perhaps your next Daily Routine or Quest might change that.]


    Luca sighed and sluggishly rose to his feet.

 Chapter 9 My Newfound System. 3

    With his morning workout session behind him, a tired Luca decided to splurge a little, purchasing a rich chocolate bar before heading home.His mother was taken aback, never expecting her son to be the one who would visit a gym, a crowded place like that. After exchanging greetings, Luca took a refreshing bath in their shower, the cold water feeling like a thousand dandelions shimmering over him, easing his tense muscles.


    Once he was dressed for the day, he waved goodbye to his mother as she headed out for her shift at the diner.


    Unpacking his new groceries, Luca got straight to work preparing the unusual breakfast his System had prescribed for him. It was a strange yet pricey combination, something he never would have envisioned himself eating. On his plate, he had fluffy scrambled eggs, a bowl of oatmeal mixed with beans, and slices of lean meat on the side.


    [This combination of lean proteins, slow-digesting carbs, and essential fats will allow your body to sustain itself under intense physical pressure behind the wheel, ensuring that your reactions and stamina stay sharp during races.]


    [This will significantly enhance your performance, host. The diet will help you maintain high energy levels and accelerate muscle recovery. Just remember, consistency with this diet will lead to optimal results.]


    Luca sat down to eat, eagerly digging his spoon and fork into the plate. He shoved the spoon into his mouth and began to chew, savoring the deliciously blended taste of the eggs and beans. The balance of flavors kept his jaw moving, making the meal surprisingly enjoyable, despite its unconventional appearance.


    Sophia, who was getting ready for school, strolled by, pausing mid-step when she spotted Luca''s plate. Her eyes darted between the food and his face before she blurted out, "What the heck are you eating?!"


    "I''m on a diet," Luca replied, his mouth still full of food.


    Sophia eyed him skeptically as she slung her backpack over her shoulders. "You are gonna fart, like, a lot," she said. "Anyways, I''m off to school."


    "Did you eat something?" Luca asked, chewing slowly.


    "Yes."


    Luca nodded, glancing to his side where the big chocolate bar lay. He picked it up and held it out to her. "Here, take this."


    Sophia''s face lit up, and she snatched the snack with a bright grin. "Thank you!" she squealed, twirling around like a ballerina before heading for the door.


    "And make sure you''re heading straight to school¡ªalone," Luca reminded her firmly.


    "Don''t worry, I am!" Sophia''s voice rang back cheerfully as she disappeared out of the kitchen.


    Luca listened closely as the door clicked shut and locked, then resumed eating his breakfast. "I''m surprised you didn''t suggest an orange drink. It would go great with this meal," Luca said to his System.


    [Certainly, host. But considering your current financial situation, I recall telling you that I would provide you with an affordable yet essential list.]


    Luca finished his meal and gulped down a glass of water, completing his Daily Routine for the day. He felt a strange sense of maturity wash over him, realizing that he would have to go through this every single day.


    Luca felt a wave of relief wash over him, thinking that his System might not disturb him anymore until the abrupt notification of a Daily Quest that was yet to come today. With his plans set firmly in mind, Luca left home and hailed a cab to the Stadhaven Circuit. He had a clear goal and a plan: to secure himself an official contract as a Formula 1 racer.


    Upon arriving, he anticipated that the security would surely give him some problems, but Luca suggested they inform the Operations Manager or his secretary of who he was. As he expected, a security personnel returned and quickly asked him to enter instantly.


    Luca expressed his thanks before navigating his way through the neat, impressive structures of the Stadhaven Circuit. The Stadhaven Circuit was a small one, and not entirely advanced like the popular ones Luca knew and had always dreamt about zooming over their asphalt toward the waving checkered flag. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Climbing up the stairs, he made his way into a building, moving through the hallway before encountering the secretary once more.


    "Hey there, handsome," she greeted with a soft smile. "I can see you are doing very well¡ªno major injuries," she said quickly, hardly letting Luca speak. "Why are you here? It''s not even up to 24 hours; you should be resting."


    Luca cleared his throat before speaking. He was known for his hoarse, deep voice, which was too deep for his young age, and a lot of people said it didn''t match his face. "I came to speak to Mr. Vance. Can I have that honor? Is it possible?" he requested earnestly.


    The secretary''s face seemed distant as her brows furrowed slightly. She nodded slowly, licking her lips before standing up and saying, "Sure, follow me." Knowing the issue at hand regarding the Federation of the FIA, the management of the Stadhaven Circuit, and Luca''s family, she didn''t need to be told that he had to be brought in right away, regardless of the reason.


    Knocking on Mr. Vance''s imposing door, his harsh voice erupted from behind, permitting his secretary''s entrance.


    To Luca''s surprise, the secretary held his hand softly for no apparent reason as they entered the office, presenting him. "Sir, young Luca is here to see you," she announced.


    Instantly, Luca and Vance locked gazes, and the man was genuinely taken aback to see him. Seated at the side of the room was Mr. Mallow, his leg crossed over the other as he scrolled through his phone. He paused as well, looking up. "Lad? A huge surprise," Mr.


    Mallow spoke before Vance had a chance to respond.


    Mr. Vance stared intently at Luca, his pupils fixed on the boy''s youthful form, which forced Luca to tear away his gaze and glare around the office instead.


    The office was less than an official one, but it still featured a desk with two boudoir chairs placed before it and a master chair behind. However, a few bleachers stripped away the officiality of the room. The bleachers were fixed to the cyan walls, where Mallow was seated on one.


    "You can leave, Sara," Mr. Vance said with a casual wave, a frown still evident on his face.


    Sara let go of Luca''s hand, flashing a warm smile at him before leaving the room and gently closing the door behind her.


    "Well?" Mr. Vance asked, spreading his arms apart. "If you think you can still work as a marshal, then I advise you to go to therapy."


    Very funny. Clearing his throat again, Luca replied firmly, "I''m sorry, sir, but that''s not my intention for being here. I want to discuss, rather, a more important topic."


    Mallow lowered his feet, leaning in on his arms. "And that is? Go on, son. Take the seat," he encouraged.


    Mr. Vance flashed Mallow a hard glare, as if he was displeased by the offer of giving Luca a seat. However, he did not protest, and Luca took the opportunity to serve his comfort.


    Grinding his teeth, his jaw shifting slightly, Mr. Vance asked, "What topic can I possibly discuss with a child that would be of any significant help to me? Shouldn''t you be recovering from that hit, or maybe helping your mother with the lawsuit?"


    "The lawsuit, sir," Luca said quickly. "That is exactly why I am here. And I believe my proposal could greatly benefit all parties involved."

 Chapter 10 A Successful Plan

    "Well, my boss here is a man of benefits, isn''t he?" Mallow chimed in with a cheerful tone. "What proposal do you plan to offer?"Luca swallowed steadily, his feet slightly sweaty as he tried his utmost to remain cool and calm while he explained his reason for being here. Noting that the boudoir chair he was seated on had a delightfully comfy backrest, he gently relaxed, placing his hands on his laps as he readied himself to speak. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "As you know, my mother is quite serious about suing you and the driver who hit me, but under the Federation rules, the body would be held liable for accidents like that," Luca said, adding, "although the driver wasn''t intending to hit me, the three of us in this room can tell that was a result of reckless racing, which serves as a good enough suing platter¡ª"


    Mr. Vance slammed a palm on the table, the paperwork lifting into the air for a brief moment before settling down with a soft flutter. Luca stopped talking instantly, his words caught in his throat like he had slammed on the brakes.


    Shaking his head, Mr. Vance snarled, "Are you stupid, boy? How dare you come here telling me what I know and what I don''t?! You were on the track, away from the safer zone out of your own naivety and recklessness. And now, Stadhaven is being fined for actually giving a lowlife like you a chance to make quick, effortless bucks!"


    Don''t retort, keep it cool. You need his approval. Luca lowered his head. "I''m sorry if my words offended you, sir; I was just stating the lead-in," he responded to the man''s outrage.


    "Boss? Can we just hear what the lad has on his tongue? At the end, if it''s crap, he gets kicked out," Mallow said with a casual shrug, a palm resting under his chin.


    Without waiting for Mr. Vance to grant him permission to continue, Luca pressed on. "I''m here because I am against my mother''s plan on filing the lawsuit; in fact, I want to bring a swift end to this soft conflict."


    Mallow sat up, adjusting his track wear as his gaze flickered between Vance and Luca, uncertainty etched on his face regarding the boy''s words. "You do not want the lawsuit to take place?" Mr. Vance asked, his tone noticeably calmer now.


    "Yes," Luca replied, feeling the weight of his decision. "I have assessed the whole issue, and I can see that all three sides might end up heartbroken, publicly shamed, or losing a significant amount of money. So, I propose we bring an end to it since I am the one who got hit and could choose to terminate the lawsuit right now."


    Mallow nodded thoughtfully, motioning for Luca to continue. "And what''s this proposal you think could numb the whole issue?" he asked, leaning forward.


    Luca straightened in his seat, realizing he had been gently sinking into the cushion for some time now. His neck itched, and he resisted the urge to scratch it. Am I crazy? Will this work?! he thought, reality crashing down on him at that very instant. Deciding to remain resolute and assertive, Luca continued.


    "I am aspiring to become a Formula 1 racer, and I find myself at a pivotal point in life where such privileges and opportunities are not easily granted or attainable. So, in exchange for dropping the charges and acting as if nothing had happened, I propose you recruit me into any local go-kart racing team, where I can sign my first contract."


    The room fell silent; Mr. Vance''s fingers ceased their rhythmic drumming on the table, his face contorting slightly with a myriad of expressions.


    Luca could see Mallow''s mouth falling open in disbelief from his peripheral vision, as his words hung thickly in the air, suffocating him even. Fuck! It''s not working.


    Slowly, Mr. Vance''s expression transitioned into one of amusement as he began to chuckle, the laughter intensifying into a thunderous, villainous roar. The walls of the room absorbed the eruption, and Luca was certain Sara could hear it from behind the door. Why''s he laughing? I didn''t sound funny, did I?


    "You fucking brat," Vance exclaimed, tears of laughter welling in his eyes, a huge grin plastered on his face. Luca could barely recognize him after such a sudden shift in demeanor. "Mall, look at this pipsqueak! What do you think this is? Pro wrestling?! A circus?!"


    Ahh, I''m fucked. "But I''m serious, sir. I do want to sign up," Luca managed to say, refusing to be discouraged. He stole a quick glance at Mallow, who had his head bent, giving Luca uncertain hints about his expression regarding the proposal.


    "Shut the hell up!" Mr. Vance snapped, his amused face vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "What do you mean by that? You expect me to suggest you to a scout and team of Formula 1?!"


    "No, sir. I know I''m not good enough for the first division; the fourth or third will be good enough, sir. As long as I begin, that''s what matters," Luca replied.


    Mr. Vance stared at him as if he were carrying a deadly virus. "You have some guts entering this office to spew such bullshit," he hissed. "No matter if it''s Formula 4 or Formula 3, young man, I''d rather lick the hot asphalt than let you¡ª"


    "Then I''ll proceed with the lawsuit," Luca interrupted firmly, locking gazes with the man. "Stadhaven might be fined again by the court this time¡ª"


    Mr. Vance growled, clearing his table with a single swing, paperwork scattering like leaves in a storm. He stood up, pointing an accusatory finger at Luca. "I do not give a flying fuck about that, do you hear me?!" he thundered.


    You can rage all you want.


    "Okay, let''s all settle and calm ourselves, alright?" Mallow interjected, sensing the escalating tension between Luca and Mr. Vance. He got to his feet as well, walking to the table that separated them. Perched at the edge, he faced Luca while backing the enraged Operations Manager. "You say you want to apply as a racer?" he asked Luca. "Why not go through the traditional means?


    Why this proposal?"


    Luca knew very well that entering a racing academy through an affiliated racing body would favor him far more than an individual application. Individual applications could drag on indefinitely, with no guarantee of acceptance. In contrast, with this approach, they would have to either accept him or he would follow through with the lawsuit. A win for me either way.


    Explaining this to Mallow, the man nodded slowly, as if he had a translator struggling to decode Luca''s words.


    "Mall, don''t tell me you''re actually considering this brat?!" Vance boomed from behind, his face a mask of fury.


    With his arms folded, Mallow turned to Vance and shrugged. "Why not? He''s 18, young, not overweight, and has the right racer physique. I don''t see why we shouldn''t consider it," he replied.


    "You''re outrageous," Vance snapped, jabbing a finger at Mallow. "And you? Get out of Stadhaven now," he growled, shifting his finger to point at Luca, who remained seated in the chair.


    "Boss? Can I speak to you outside for a minute?" Mallow suggested, rising fully from his seat. He walked to the door, holding it open, leaving Vance with no room for refusal.


    Vance scowled, shooting Luca a disdainful glare before stepping out of the room.


    Once Luca heard the door shut, a wave of relief washed over him. He was finally alone, time to dry his sweaty palms on his pants. I hate my hands. How would I grip a wheel?


    "Mall, did you call me out here to talk about that?" Vance asked as soon as they were outside the office, just before Sara.


    "Listen, Boss," Mallow replied, his voice soothing, hands raised at chest level. "That kid in there is smart to think this through, and you know it. The gravity of this situation disfavors us, and we can lessen our demerits by accepting his proposal."


    Mr. Vance shook his head, preparing to retort when Mallow interrupted him. "We can put in a word and enroll him in some local team. If he gets kicked out, fine; we did our part. If he turns out to be a good racer and transcends, even better. I see no flaws in this¡ªit''s a win for everyone.


    Are you trying to say you have a personal grudge against the lad?"


    Vance''s face drained of color, his fury reaching its peak. He ground his jaw, staring at Mallow sternly, fists clenched. "He''s all yours, then," he said, twisting his tongue in frustration. "Don''t involve me with the pipsqueak."


    Mallow nodded, believing that was substantial enough. He had the power to secure Luca spots in several academies or perhaps enroll him in Grey-Husson''s. "That''ll do," he said, watching Vance storm down the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing against the tiles.


    Mallow observed him disappear around a corner of the pristine facility before turning to Sara, who had been quietly listening. He nodded at her and re-entered the office.


    As he stood at the threshold, he took a moment to study Luca. Mallow could envision him as a Formula 1 racer¡ªnot in Formula 4, not 3, not even 2, but the highest division. He had the perfect physique, and in a racing suit, he might even pass for a seasoned F1 champion.


    With a determined sigh, he walked over to Luca and resumed his seat at the edge of the table, crossing his fingers.


    Luca looked up at him, expectation etched across his face. Say you accept, I beg of you.


    "So, you''ll have to know I''ll be your agent," Mallow said.


    An indiscernible smile cut across Luca''s lips. It worked...

 Chapter 11 Between Soup And Speed

    "Luca, I do not understand you. What are you saying?!" Luca''s mother demanded, her voice sharp with confusion as her hands, gloved in thick baking mittens, brought down a steaming pot of soup from the stove. Shifting her gaze from the bubbling pot, she looked over at her two children, seated quietly at the counter.Luca was helping his younger sister, Sophia, with her homework¡ªa usual occurrence, considering how often she resisted studying, even at her age. Her books were spread haphazardly across the counter as they both focused intently, waiting for dinner to be ready.


    "Mom, this is the third time I''ve said it," Luca repeated, "We should drop the charges; there will be no lawsuit." He didn''t look up as he spoke, his fingers steadily wrapped around a pencil as he worked through the problems with Sophia.


    It hadn''t been long since he graduated from high school, so much of the knowledge was still fresh in his mind, making it easier for him to guide his sister whenever she needed him to help.


    Mrs. Rennick ungloved her hands, letting them rest on her hips as she stared at Luca in disbelief. His statement was shocking¡ªespecially coming from him¡ªconsidering the family stood to gain a significant restitution if they pursued the lawsuit. "That I have heard three times as well. What I want to know is why?


    Why would we drop any charges?" she snapped, punctuating her frustration by literally snapping her fingers.


    "I''m dropping the charges. I''m the one who got hit, and, Mom, I''m legally an adult," Luca muttered, still not breaking his focus as he directed Sophia to jot something down. Finally, after making sure Sophia understood, he looked up at his mother, meeting her wide-eyed expression..


    Mrs. Rennick''s mouth hung open in shock, her eyes widening at Luca''s bold proclamation. For a moment, she was at a loss for words, because, technically, he was right. He was an adult, and she had never imposed her decisions on him, trusting that Luca always thought things through on his own.


    Shaking her head, she muttered in frustration, snapping her fingers again before muttering a curse under her breath. "You''re doing that thing of yours again," she mumbled, turning back to the stove to dish out the soup into plates.


    Luca could feel the tension rising in the room, his mother''s anger radiating even from a distance. He understood well that his decisions usually held the most weight in their home, ever since he had crossed the threshold of puberty into adulthood. And when Mrs.


    Rennick or Sophia wanted their way, it often came through emotional appeals¡ªhis mother through stern reasoning, and Sophia through her usual tears. Luca was certain that after dinner, his mother would revisit the issue in a more composed setting, probably when Sophia was asleep. She''d try to reason with him, maybe even plead with him to reconsider this sudden change of plans.


    "I haven''t told you why," Luca said, watching her erratic movements.


    "Well, I asked that a while ago, didn''t I? Did you answer?" S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca ignored her harsh tone, turning back to Sophia and guiding her through a series of questions from her homework before finally addressing the looming conversation. "I''ve been recruited to Grey-Husson''s Academy," he said calmly, his voice steady. "It''s an academy that trains future Formula 1 racers. I''ve got an agent, and I''ll be flying out there this week."


    His mother froze mid-action, a spoonful of soup suspended in the air, her hand paused over the pot as she slowly turned to face him. Even Sophia''s head jerked up, her wide eyes staring at her brother in shock. "You''re being what?" the girl asked slowly, breaking the silence sooner than Luca anticipated.


    "I applied, I''m recruited, trained, no matter the word, I''ll be groomed as a racer onwards. That was the deal I made," Luca said with a shrug.


    "And... you accepted?" Mrs. Rennick''s voice trembled, her words barely steady as she tried to process what she was hearing.


    "I didn''t just accept it, Mom," Luca replied evenly, meeting her gaze. "I brought the deal to them. They agreed." He then turned to Sophia, who had a wide, amused grin spreading across her face. "You finished?" he asked, trying to shift the focus back to her homework.


    "Are you serious? You''ll be racing¡ªlike mom said Dad did?"


    "Yeah, if you put it like that."


    Clank!


    Mrs. Rennick''s soup spoon dropped back into the pot with a clang, followed by the soft thud of the plate she had been holding as she hastily set it down. Her movements were quick and agitated as she wiped her hands and stomped out of the small kitchen, passing behind Luca and Sophia without a word, retreating to her room.


    Typical mom, Luca thought with a sigh as he stood up, making his way over to the pot of soup to finish what she had left behind.


    "So, you''re really going to be in an F1 car, zooming at a hundred miles per hour?" Sophia''s voice bubbled with excitement as she closed her homework, clearly finished with it. She barely waited for him to respond before her words tumbled out again. "Are you even old enough? I thought you had an abdominal injury? Where''s the Grey-Husson''s Academy? You said you''ll fly?


    You''ll be on a plane?!"


    Luca glanced at her and smiled, the kind of soft, reassuring smile that answered all her questions without needing words. He scooped the steaming tortilla soup from the pot, continuing where their mother had left off.


    As he served Sophia her dinner, he watched her animated face as she slurped the soup, her voice still going a mile a minute, even as she drifted off to bed. She only stopped talking when her head finally hit the pillow, sleep taking her in mid-sentence.


    Luca turned his attention to his own dinner, keeping it simple. He ladled a small portion of the soup into his bowl before assembling the rest: a few boiled eggs, a portion of brown rice, and a can of tuna mixed with steamed broccoli from what they had in the kitchen.


    [This combination is essentially balanced and will provide exactly what''s necessary overtime.]


    Luca nodded as he devoured the food, draining the plate of his mom''s soup clean as well, before he drank two cups of water. Is it me or has my appetite increased drastically?


    [Host, this is a natural response. The routine I''m guiding you through is designed to elevate your energy demands. As your training intensifies and your body adjusts, your metabolism speeds up, thus requiring more nutrients.]


    [This increased appetite is simply your body calling for more fuel to meet its heightened needs for recovery and growth.]


    Luca washed off his plate before dishing out soup for his mother in a more regal bowl. He placed it carefully on a tray and made his way to her room. The door was open, and the room was dark, except for the faint glow of streetlights seeping through the window, casting dim shadows on the bed.


    He could see the outline of the sheets and knew his mother was lying there, likely deep in thought after what he had just revealed. Quietly, Luca walked over to the small table and placed the meal on it.


    As he turned to leave, her voice stopped him.


    "Lukey, please tell me you''re bluffing," she said, her voice strained and weary, like always after a long day of waitressing. "You''ve always said you didn''t want anything to do with the track."


    Luca took a deep breath, turning to face the shadowy figure of his mother on the bed. "I know, Mom, but... with the changes in my life recently, it feels like this path is calling me. It feels like something I have to do."


    "You know you will leave us? Me and your sister?"


    "I know," Luca replied softly. "But, Mom, you know how lucrative F1 is. If I make it, we won''t have to live like this anymore. We won''t have to stay in this... shackle of a place."


    There was a pause, the silence stretching between them as he waited for her response. Finally, her voice broke the stillness. "What if you crash? What if you... die, just like your father? What will happen to me and Sophia then?


    It will be me and her alone?"


    Luca heaved. He had no straight response to that. Her question struck a chord, a sharp reminder of the danger inherent in the sport. It was a truth he couldn''t deny. Death was always a possibility in F1¡ªmore than injuries, crashes often meant death. He stood there, speechless, unable to provide her with the comfort she needed.


    Instead, he offered a quiet goodnight and gestured toward the meal he''d left for her before quietly closing the door behind him.


    He went through his nightly routine, checking that all the windows and doors were locked, securing the apartment as he did every day. As he moved from room to room, he wondered how his mother and sister would manage when he left¡ªbecause he would be leaving soon. The announcement of his impending departure for Grey-Husson''s Academy in Birmingham, despite how sudden it had been, was now his reality.


    They had to adapt, no matter how inconvenient it seemed.


    Entering his room, he noticed Sophia was sound asleep, her breathing steady and peaceful. Luca made his bed and lay down, thinking over the events of the day. Another day, he thought as he turned off his lamplight and relaxed into his bed. He was just about to close his eyes when a sudden sound shattered the quietness, tearing away the sleep from his eyes.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been issued!]


    [-¡¤-SEVENTY PUSH-UPS-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: COMPLETE BEFORE 11 PM]


    [This will help enhance your upper body strength, core stability, and endurance, which are essential for handling the G-forces, steering, and long-duration physical strain that F1 racing demands.]


    Luca''s eyes widened as he stared at the notification. Are you freaking kidding me?!

 Chapter 12 Momentum Begins

    5:30 AM[SYSTEM ONLINE]


    It had been five days since Luca became the host of the Formula 1 System, and though the adjustment was tough, he was gradually getting used to it. The Daily Quests were strenuous and overwhelming, but he pushed himself to attempt and complete each one, never letting them interfere with his regular routine.


    Every morning, he kept his schedule like clockwork, not missing a step or falling short by even a minute.


    Now, Luca was jogging down the street toward the gym behind the supermarket, each stride strengthening his thighs further. Despite the pain he had endured, the most he had gained was a mere +1 to his Strength. His Strength stat now sat at 3, and the other stats, though close, still required a bit more of a boost to level up.


    [Today, host. We will be working on your Agility.]


    [Agility is crucial for you, as it directly impacts your reaction time and overall control when handling the high-speed demands of an F1 car.]


    [Enhanced Agility will help you maintain precise control, reduce errors when maneuvering through tight corners, and enable faster responses under pressure.]


    [Today''s session will focus on lateral ladder drills, cone drills, and box jumps.]


    [EXERCISE: LATERAL LADDER DRILLS]


    [EQUIPMENTS: AGILITY LADDER]


    [Host is required to move laterally through the rungs of the ladder with precise footwork.]


    [This will be done for 5 minutes, moving laterally from both sides.]


    Luca exhaled with determination as he carefully laid the agility ladder across the gym floor, standing over it while waiting for his System''s command.


    [Let us proceed with LATERAL LADDER DRILLS.]


    Without hesitation, Luca sprang into action, his feet dancing swiftly over the rungs of the ladder. He moved to the left, his steps precise and rhythmic, like he was jogging in between the squares, but with calculated precision. Not bad, not that though, he thought, his feet tapping lightly one after the other as he completed the first round and then reversed to the right.


    Before long, he felt a familiar burning sensation in his calves, but it was manageable. Luca pressed on, knowing the slight discomfort or any pain he''d experienced in the past few days would be nothing compared to the grueling challenges on the race track. He continued hopping from foot to foot until the exercise was complete, hardly out of breath.


    "Now, that was easy," he said proudly to himself, realizing that on a normal day, he might not have been able to accomplish this so effortlessly without the System''s support.


    [Good job, host. Moving on to the next.]


    [EXERCISE: CONE DRILLS]


    [EQUIPMENTS: CONES]


    [Host is required to sprint through a series of cones set at various distances, making sharp, quick turns to simulate racing reflexes. You''ll focus on speed, direction change, and foot placement to boost agility.]


    [This will be done for 5 sets, each lasting 30 seconds with short rests in between to allow your body to recover while maintaining intensity.]


    "Okay, this one isn''t that difficult as well. We do a lot of cone drills in P.E class," Luca said to himself as he set up the cones. He arranged them in a zigzag pattern along the floor with a three-foot gap between each.


    Taking a deep breath, Luca pounced like a tiger toward the first cone, weaving in and out in a tight zigzag path. His feet tapped lightly against the gym floor as he maneuvered swiftly, twisting his body sharply with each turn while his arms pumped in rhythm. The intensity of the drill heightened with each step, the burn in his calves creeping in as he pushed himself to maintain his speed.


    By the time he completed the cone drills, that familiar burn had intensified to an almost intolerable degree.


    [Good job, host. Moving on to the next.]


    [EXERCISE: BOX JUMPS]


    [EQUIPMENTS: PLYOMETRIC BOX]


    [Host is required to jump onto the box with both feet from a standing position, then step or jump down before repeating the exercise.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of 12 jumps, focusing on explosive power and leg strength.]


    Now, this is unfamiliar, a typical gym exercise, Luca thought as he placed the plyometric box before him. He bent his knees, lowering his body into a squat before leaping high into the air. His muscles tensed briefly mid-air, then relaxed as he landed firmly on the box, his knees bending slightly to absorb the impact. He felt a surge of muscle power surge through his legs, building up his strength.


    This is surreal, Luca mused, exhaling as he stood upright and stepped down to repeat the motion. It was strange to think that just months ago, he never imagined himself training intensely with a System, focusing on attributes that an F1 racer needed.


    Luca finished all three sets the System laid out for him, each jump firing up his thighs and legs, and he was finally out of breath and exhausted, but was genuinely surprised and proud of himself for lasting so long.


    [I am glad you can see the outcomes of another point in your Endurance attribute, host.]


    "Indeed," Luca replied, sitting on the box as he wiped his sweaty face and neck with his towel. "I would have broken down midway through the cones. I feel quite stronger, honestly speaking."


    [You are stronger. I am glad to announce you have gained +1 point to your Agility attribute.]


    [Ding!]


    [Agility +1]


    "Wow! That''s wonderful! I''ve been itching to hear that for so long now," Luca exclaimed with excitement, feeling a surge of accomplishment as he navigated to his [STATUS] to check his total Ability score.


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 71kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 11%


    Muscle Mass: 30%


    Strength: 3


    Stamina: 2


    Endurance: 6


    Agility: 3


    Intelligence: 5 ]


    Hmmm, I wonder why my intelligence was one of the highest to begin with. Is it because I know a lot about the game already? Ah, that''s that, Ability is now 3! Whoop!


    [Good job, host. You can head over to the next phase of your Daily Routine. Your time in the gym today is over.]


    [You finished earlier than expected, in fact.] S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca smiled, feeling impressed with his progress and even more determined to continue improving. Packing up his gear, he headed out of the gym, walking through the door of the supermarket where he waved casually at Josh and Lana, who were just starting their shifts. They waved back with tired smiles, still adjusting to the early hours.


    As Luca stepped outside, the soft warmth of the morning sun greeted him, casting an orange glow across the quiet streets. He paused for a moment, taking in the fresh air before the midday rush polluted it. The sunlight felt calm and energizing against his skin, and Luca took a deep breath before beginning his jog home.


    Something inside him felt renewed, like the world was giving him a fresh start. He wasn''t sure if it was the presence of the System or the progress it had pushed him to achieve, but either way, Luca was fueled with determination. "I will pass Grey-Husson''s with flying colors," he promised himself, despite the fact that he had never even sat inside a single-seater.


    Mallow had mentioned that Grey-Husson''s Academy in Birmingham was one of the best in the world. It was a prime hunting ground for scouts every year, and this one was no different. The paperwork to get Luca''s name on the list had been extensive, but Mallow had assured him it was done. On his own, Luca knew he wouldn''t have had the status or connections to get into such a prestigious academy.


    Luca slowed his jogging as he was approaching their 7-floor apartment building. He was still a few houses away when he slowed down, his eyes narrowing to see better. There was a car parked before the house, next to the street. The car wasn''t too fancy, but it was unfamiliar, that''s why it caught Luca''s attention.


    He eventually approached the car, noticing there was a man knocking softly on the door. "Can I help you?" Luca asked unhesitatingly.


    The man in shades, turned around and Luca instantly recognized him. "Mr. Mallow?"


    "Luca!" Mallow exclaimed with a broad smile, stepping down from the short steps as he removed his shades. "How do you do?"

 Chapter 13 Momentum Begins 2 Arrival At Grey-Hussons

    Saying goodbye to his mother was one thing, but saying goodbye to Sophia was another. She had basically thrown a tantrum, unable to hold back her tears, even though Luca had made it clear three days ago that he was leaving for Grey-Husson''s. He''d packed his belongings well in advance and spent most of his time drilling her on what to do and what not to do, particularly her rebellious outings.He even made a list, a timetable, and more, quickly realizing that he did most of the work at home and that Sophia was rarely assigned any chores.


    Mrs. Rennick, however, still believed there was time to convince Luca not to leave them. Luca quieted her plea with a hug, reassuring her that nothing would happen to him. It was a difficult moment for what remained of the Rennick family, now that Luca was leaving, permanently stripping away the role he had taken on in his mother and sister''s lives.


    Mallow waited patiently, leaning against the hood of his car as Luca and his family shared their final moments together. Finally, Luca urged his sister to let go so he could walk down the stairs. He loaded his luggage into the trunk of Mallow''s Volkswagen and took his seat in the passenger side.


    "It seems they are not used to your absence?" Mallow broke the silence, his hands resting on the steering wheel of the idling car.


    Luca nodded, adding, "Not at all," as he strapped his seatbelt across his body. "I''m afraid of what might even happen." Luca tried his best to keep his gaze straight ahead and not to the side to face his mother and sister, a gesture to tell them¨Cthis is how it is now.


    Mallow inserted the key, twisting it to start the engine, and then clicked on his own seatbelt. "I wish I had someones who''d care that much if I left," Mallow remarked, briefly glancing at Luca. "You''re lucky."


    Raising a brow, Luca asked, "What do you mean? You''re not married? No kids?"


    "I was married. No kids," Mallow muttered, inhaling deeply as the late morning sun streamed through the windshield. "But don''t worry, the place got cell service. You can call them anytime."


    Luca exhaled as well, sinking deeper into his seat as the engine purred beneath him. He finally glanced over at his sister and mother, offering a brief smile and wave as Mallow pulled away from the curb. The car eased into the street, and Luca continued waving back to his family, watching as they waved more vigorously in return.


    Eventually, their figures faded from view as the car turned down the street. Luca realized he had been holding his breath and slowly exhaled, just as Mallow switched on the radio. The soft strains of "Someone Like You" filled the car, lulling Luca into a sleepy haze, though he fought to stay awake.


    "Who''s paying for the flight?" Luca suddenly asked as they merged onto the expressway.


    "You mean who paid for it?" Mallow corrected.


    "Yeah, that. Is it you?"


    "Who else, son? Vance?" Mallow asked with a short laugh. "Don''t think you have to pay me back in some way, just do your best as a Grey-Husson academic, you don''t know how much you''ll make me rich if you become tied with success."


    Luca''s mind dissolved Mallow''s words. What if I don''t get tied to success? Nah, I will, I will, I''m sure. "Thank you very much," Luca said with genuine appreciation, fully aware of how costly flights could be. Even a short one-hour flight to Birmingham seemed out of reach for his family, especially for his mother.


    Luca settled into the passenger seat and allowed himself to relax, watching as the world blurred past the window. It wasn''t long before they reached the airport, and both Luca and Mallow stepped out of the car. Waiting at the terminal was a staff member Luca recognized as one of the marshals of Stadhaven.


    The man accepted Mallow''s car keys, nodding briefly before driving off after Mallow grabbed his bag from the backseat.


    The airport was bustling, typical of a regular morning. Mallow and Luca weaved through the crowds, eager to get through the formalities and board the plane as quickly as possible. Luckily, everything went smoothly, and before long, Luca was stepping into the second flight of his life. He rarely ever traveled even when his father raced around the world.


    Once onboard, they found their seats. Mallow settled by the window while Luca took the aisle. Luca wasn''t particularly nervous, but a low hum of anxiety vibrated through him as he thought about what awaited him. The unknown always held its own sense of weight.


    [Host, your heart rate has suddenly increased. Is it because the plane is about to take off?]


    I guess so, Luca replied internally.


    [Host, you should become accustomed to flying. After all, how else will you travel around the world, competing in various circuits and environments?]


    You''re right, you''re right. What can I do to calm my heart rate? Meditation again? Deep breaths?


    [Certainly, host. Please proceed.]


    Luca inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Inhale¡­ Exhale¡­ Nah, it''s not working. Maybe I just need to talk to someone. That''ll do.


    Luca turned to Mallow, who was absorbed in a candy game on his phone. "So, other academics, will they be arriving today with their agents too?" Luca asked, trying to ease his anxiety.


    "Nope, they''re already there. Grey-Husson''s preparatory scheme started a while ago," Mallow replied, not taking his eyes off the screen as his fingers tapped rapidly. "It''s a 14-day programme, and you''re two days late."


    "What? Why''s that? Why am I late?"


    Mallow finally lost the game and glanced at Luca. "There are thirty boys, aged between 18 and 24, all set to participate. My boss, Mr. Vance¡ªthe Operations Manager at Stadhaven¡ªhad the privilege of selecting two participants for Grey-Husson. He chose one, Harry, who''s already there. Time passed, and they filled up the last slot with another participant, starting the programme on schedule.


    The same day you proposed, I called and demanded a spot meant for a Stadhaven selectee. So, here you are¡ªparticipant number 31, two days behind," Mallow explained in a low, calm tone as the plane''s hum filled the background.


    Why does it have to be me? Luca thought when he had no response to Mallow. Thirty participants is a lot of competition. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca wanted to ask more, but when he saw Mallow focused back on his phone, he decided to let it go. He did his best to relax as the plane reached its cruising altitude. Pulling out his small mp3 player and earpiece, he leaned back and drowned his nerves in heavy metal, letting the music carry him through the short flight to Birmingham.


    To Luca''s surprise, he hadn''t gotten far through his playlist when Mallow tapped him gently, signaling it was time to brace for landing, following the pilot''s instructions. This wasn''t the first time Mallow had interrupted him. Earlier, he''d tapped Luca when the air hostess brought snacks, when he needed to head to the bathroom, and once to excitedly point out a famous tower near a local circuit.


    Formula 1 racing had become a universal sensation, and it seemed every region had something to showcase from the great sport.


    Luca took a deep breath, pulling out his earpiece and sitting up straighter in his seat. He adjusted his seatbelt, listening to the hum of the engines as the plane began its descent. His muscles tensed, instinctively bracing for the landing. Outside, the vast landscape below rapidly shrunk¡ªfields, roads, and buildings becoming a neat patchwork as they approached the runway.


    Softly, the wheels of the plane touched ground and all passengers felt a gentle jolt, reacting with a soft stagger on their seats. I''m in Birmingham? Wow.


    The aircraft slowed down gradually, allowing Luca a clearer view of the airfield from Mallow''s window. Just then, Mallow''s phone popped into his sight. "Fifteen minutes past twelve, not bad," Mallow said, showing Luca the time on his screen.


    Luca squinted to make out the numbers, the golden midday sunlight streaming in through the small window, partially blinding him. "Yeah, that''s great," he replied, letting out a long exhale as the plane came to a complete stop


    With a hum, the engines powered down.


    After collecting their small luggage, Mallow and Luca waited their turn before disembarking from the plane. As they stepped down onto the tarmac, Luca felt a cool breeze brush against his face, ruffling his hair. Despite it being noon, the air carried a lingering chill, hinting at the unpredictability of the weather here.


    After clearing all the airport formalities, Mallow hailed a cab for both of them, giving the driver direct instructions to head to Grey-Husson''s.


    Luca felt his blood boil with anticipation and anxiety. He couldn''t believe he had just skipped town, and was in a taxi to a place he had never seen before.


    He gazed out the window, watching as the towering buildings of the city began to loom over them, casting long shadows on the bustling road leading away from the airport. To Luca''s surprise, Birmingham wasn''t all that different from London. The busy streets, tall buildings, and constant hum of activity felt familiar.


    He thought that if he were to wake up here one day without knowing where he was, it might take him a while to realize he wasn''t still in London.


    The 20-minute drive stretched out like an eternity for Luca. Mallow had mentioned earlier that the Grey-Husson''s facility was located on the outskirts of the city, much like Stadhaven''s placement in London. But now, after winding through various roads and stretches of lush greenery, they were nearing their destination.


    On the horizon, Luca''s eyes caught sight of something unmistakable¡ªthe massive "G" emblem soaring above the landscape. Against a backdrop of endless, meticulously trimmed green fields, the symbol stood proudly atop a sleek, sprawling building. Luca didn''t need any explanation to know that the iconic letter represented Grey¡ªthe legendary name behind Grey-Husson''s.


    Mallow had mentioned that the Grey-Husson''s facility and its once-prestigious racing circuit were the pride of Birmingham before its transition to just a top-tier training and scouting location.


    It''s prestigious indeed, Luca thought to himself, marvelling at the exterior as the cab approached the electric gate.The architecture was quite modern, with clean lines and bold steel-and-glass facades that reflected the sunlight. Even as a training facility, it was more magnificent than Stadhaven.


    An automatic security system activated as they approached the gate, and Mallow responded smoothly to the request for identification, allowing them to proceed.


    Wow, Luca thought as the cab drove into the facility, moving round a courthouse fountain, before diverting into a major tarred path that ran deeper into the complex. They passed a series of smaller buildings that likely housed offices, training equipment, and lounges for racers and scouts alike.


    Beyond those structures, Luca spotted several tracks, neat and exquisite as if the asphalt was just applied yesterday.


    His eyes widened in amazement when he caught sight of several F1 cars sitting idle in the distance, their sleek bodies gleaming under the midday sun. Engineers and mechanics were working on the cars, but they paused to glance and stare with curiosity at the yellow cab rolling into the facility.


    "We''re here, lad," Mallow muttered, drumming his fingers on his lap. "Let''s just say this will be your home for the next two weeks. If you do well enough, you might not even head back. You could find yourself traveling from city to city."


    Luca gulped as Mallow''s words sank in. The idea of moving constantly, chasing races and opportunities, sounded both thrilling and overwhelming. Thoughts of his mother and sister filled his mind suddenly. Maybe I should call them... especially Mom, let her know I arrived safely, he considered.


    Mallow stepped out of the cab, beckoning for Luca to follow. After paying the driver generously, Mallow led the way.


    Luca''s nerves spiked the moment his feet hit the ground. He shut the car door behind him and stood still for a moment, taking it all in. The air here felt different¡ªcrisper, charged with energy. His palms were already sweaty, his heart racing though there was definitely no need to.


    Just then, Mallow''s hand came down firmly on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Come on, let''s get going," Mallow urged, guiding him toward a wide, grey building adorned with a few grand pillars. "Hola!" Mallow called out with enthusiasm, waving at the mechanics who had resumed their work on the F1 cars. They gave brief nods, waving back before diving back into their tasks.


    "Beautiful day," Mallow muttered to himself, then, turning to Luca with a grin, added, "Welcome to Grey-Husson''s, Luca."

 Chapter 14 Momentum Begins 3 Settling Into Grey-Hussons

    Upon entering the building, an aged man greeted them as if he had been waiting for their arrival. Mallow immediately introduced Luca to him, saying he was the Chief Instructor of the Grey-Husson Academy program every year. "Mr. Schafer? This is Luca Rennick. Luca?Meet the Chief Instructor and Director, Mr. Schafer," Mallow said.


    Mr. Schafer, aged but tall, with white hair and a mustache beneath his round glasses, inspected Luca before accepting the handshake Luca offered him. "Oh, I do hope you turn out to be like a Rennick I can remember," he muttered, his voice strained, a testament to his age. "Welcome, boy. And how old are you?"


    "I''m eighteen," Luca replied, adding, "turned that five months ago," before breaking the firm handshake, hoping the man didn''t feel the dampness of his palm.


    "Welcome, welcome," Schafer said, glancing at Mallow. "I don''t see him participating in anything today. He''ll have to pass medical tests, you know that. Tomorrow, he''ll begin and merge with the others right away."


    Luca listened closely while his gaze wandered around the magnificent facility. He envisioned a crowd of people in the empty stands far away, cheering for their team as the racers zoomed through the track like sparks of electricity.


    "...good thing we made it today. Elimination begins tomorrow, and he wouldn''t have been accepted if that had begun, am I right?" Mallow''s question drew Luca''s attention back from his racing daydream.


    "Elimination?" Luca asked. "We get sent home at intervals? Some kind of tournament?"


    "Certainly, Luca," Mr. Schafer replied. "Starting from Day 4 tomorrow, we gradually shift out participants through increasingly intense challenges to mirror the real challenges one faces as an F1 racer. At the end of this course, we select the top seven."


    Wow. Luca had never been in a competitive atmosphere before, and he wondered just how intense and challenging this might be.


    "Please, might we get Mr. Mallow and his client here settled? Then, direct him to the clinic before the day''s over," Mr. Schafer called out to a staff member, motioning Luca forward after welcoming him once more.


    Mallow grinned at Luca, giving him a thumbs up. "You''ll see Harry. In fact, you''ll be sharing a room with him. Get along as quick as you can. I''ll see you soon¡ªgonna have a talk with the gaffer here," he said with a wave.


    Alright, Luca told himself as he followed the staff member, who wore a cotton T-shirt with the signature G emblazoned on the back. He led Luca further into the building, the neat halls echoing slightly with each step as they passed by a few other staff members, similarly dressed in pink T-shirts.


    As they passed the training hub, Luca could hear the chatter of youthful voices, and he peered into the room. The other participants, I guess.


    Luca saw a group of boys, likely around his age or slightly older, sitting on benches with towels draped over their shoulders as they sipped water and chatted joyfully. They were in racing suits, making Luca believe they had just finished a training session.


    He felt a subtle sense of relief knowing the participants were boys around his age, which made him hope they''d get along, even as competitors. Realizing the staff member was outpacing him, he quickened his steps to catch up as they began ascending a series of stairs.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been issued!]


    [-¡¤-THIRTY PULL-UPS-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: COMPLETE BEFORE 9PM]


    [This will help improve your upper body strength, grip endurance, and back muscles¡ªall essential for handling the steering wheel effectively.]


    [Reward for Completing Monday Daily Quest: (EXP)


    - Strength +1


    - Endurance +1 ]


    [Consequence for Failing Monday Daily Quest: (EXP)


    - Endurance -1


    Consequence for Failing Monday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Persistent and intense headaches that impair focus and productivity will occur.]


    Luca''s full attention was fixed on the digital interface before him, intently focused on the latest quest issued by his System. He absorbed each line of instruction, contemplating how he''d tackle the challenge, when he suddenly collided with someone, jolting him out of his thoughts and making him step back in surprise.


    "Sorry," Luca muttered, his gaze snapping to the person he had bumped into. His eyes met the other''s, and he was hit with an unsettling wave of recognition. His expression darkened immediately, frowning as he realized who he was face-to-face with.


    "Luca?!" the boy exclaimed, practically booming in disbelief, drawing out Luca''s name as if it were a foreign word he could barely comprehend. He scanned Luca from head to toe with a scrutinizing gaze, as if questioning whether it was truly the same lowlife he knew. "What in the world are you doing here?!"


    Luca grimaced. He despised this guy¡ªMiles. The very same Miles he had crossed paths with just days ago in his flashy convertible back in London. Their rivalry ran deep, rooted in high school days filled with tension and rivalry. Miles had been Luca''s number-one adversary back then, and by the look of things, absolutely nothing had changed.


    Miles embodied everything Luca detested in a person: arrogant, entitled, and perpetually on the lookout for opportunities to belittle others. During their high school years, Miles had made Luca''s life a living hell, constantly flaunting his wealth, privilege, and influence. Now, as they stood in this prestigious F1 training facility, Luca realized that the past was far from behind them.


    Luca''s gaze shifted to the person standing beside Miles¡ªa girl with a familiar face, her hand resting possessively on Miles'' arm, casually gripping his well-built muscles like he was some prize. The sight caught Luca off guard, momentarily freezing him as he registered her identity. Is my life seriously coming back to haunt me?


    he wondered, trying to push back the memories of high school that had resurfaced with alarming clarity.


    "I applied for the academy," Luca said firmly, meeting Miles'' condescending stare without flinching. He''d never been afraid of Miles¡ªin fact, Luca looked down on him, seeing his arrogance as something beneath contempt, the mark of a man who should strive to be better.


    "You? In Grey-Husson''s? Legally?" Miles sneered, letting out a laugh as he shot a quick glance at the girl beside him. "Look at this clown. You actually think you can be a racer?"


    "Is that news to you?" Luca shot back, his voice steady and unwavering. "I thought you already knew and made fun of it?"


    Miles shook his head, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Man, you''re pathetic. You''ve probably never even driven a basic sedan, and here you are, thinking you can handle a single-seater? Please," he sneered with open disdain. "You''ll just be another one of my NPCs, getting lost in the pack, only to find your way back to The Smoke."


    Luca''s hand twitched into a fist, but he forced his expression to remain neutral. Miles'' arrogance was nothing new to him. He''d faced this kind of mockery many times before, and he wasn''t about to let it drag him down. "And you? You''re aiming for this too?" Luca asked, making sure not to let his gaze linger on the girl beside Miles.


    "You''re damn right I am," Miles replied boastfully.


    "I thought you''re in college? Did you.... drop out?"


    Miles'' face flushed red, his teeth grinding as he visibly struggled to keep his irritation in check. "The course is just two weeks. It''s a small price to pay for a shot at Formula 1 professionalism. Most of us know it''s worth the sacrifice¡ªfourteen days, no big deal. That''s smart, isn''t it?"


    Luca kept his expression calm, though inwardly he savored the moment. "It is smart," he replied coolly, his gaze steady as he pushed past Miles to catch up with the staff member, who hadn''t bothered to wait for him. "That''s if you make it through the first elimination, you''ve wasted schooldays then."


    "You little¡ª!"


    Before Miles could finish his insult, Luca quickened his pace, jogging up the stairs and rounding a corner. His heart raced, but not from fear or intimidation¡ªhe felt a pulse of satisfaction. For the first time in a long while, he had a real chance to prove himself, and he intended to beat Miles at something that actually mattered.


    By the time Luca caught up to the staff member, they were standing in front of the clinic''s doors. "Thanks," Luca said with genuine appreciation, catching his breath.


    Inside the clinic, he underwent a series of tests¡ªnutrition and hydration levels, both of which were fine, blood and body composition analysis, and a few cognitive assessments. When it was all over, he felt relieved as the doctor deemed him "fit as a fiddle," although he advised Luca to take it easy on his injured side, which hadn''t fully healed yet.


    Surprisingly, the staff member waited for him outside the clinic and led him to his quarters, stopping at a door labeled "Stadhaven." Luca knocked, and moments later, the door opened to reveal a youthful face with dark hair and brown skin.


    "Good afternoon," the guy greeted, his eyes landing on Luca. "Is this him?" he asked the staff member, who nodded before excusing himself. "Welcome, bro," he said, stepping aside to let Luca in.


    "Thanks," Luca replied, stepping into the room and taking in the space. There were two frameless beds for the both of them, two wide windows side by side, and gray walls that caused their voices to resonate whenever they spoke. "I''m Luca. What about you?"


    "Harry, Harry Potter," the boy replied, with a hint of a grin as he slumped back onto his bed, crossing his arms behind his head.


    Luca threw his bag to the floor, the thud echoing as he turned to face Harry. "Are you... like serious?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "Of course! Why would I lie to my new roommate? The name''s Harry Potter, the magic man," Harry proclaimed with a chuckle. "Nah, just kidding. I''m ain''t that white¡ªthe last name''s Patel. But people always mess it up and call me Potter."


    Luca burst out laughing. "Oh, I get it. I probably would too," he replied. "Might be a good nickname, don''t you think?"


    "Heaven knows it is!" Harry boomed, spreading his arms in the air. "And there we have the magic man, Harry Potter, speeding down the track! With the crowd roaring, he takes the final corner with precision, leaving everyone in the dust. It''s like he''s flying on a broomstick out there! No one can catch him¡ªPotter weaves through the competition like magic itself!


    And boom, across the finish line, the unbeatable Harry Potter takes the victory!"


    Luca''s laughter spilled over, his stomach clenching as he wiped a tear from his eye.


    "So, what''s gonna be your nickname, Lu¨Cca?" Harry asked, collapsing back onto his bed, still grinning.


    Luca shrugged as he sat down on his bed to remove his boots, his bottom sinking into the soft mattress. "I''m sure the fans will make out one for me when the time comes. That''s the tradition," he said with a sigh of relief, freeing his feet from the confines of his boots.


    "Yeah, true," Harry replied. "Anyway, welcome, man. I was thinking I wouldn''t get a mate from Stadhaven, London. Why''d they bring you in so late?"


    Luca shrugged, having no definite answer to that. He began unpacking, arranging his belongings on the small stool beside his bed, trying to settle in.


    "You''ve officially missed three days now, and tomorrow, we''ll be handling the cars without precautions. Sure you can handle a single-seater?" Harry asked, eyeing him skeptically.


    Luca shook his head, a bit sheepishly. "Honestly? No. I haven''t even driven a car in my life," he admitted. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You''re telling me you''ve never been behind a wheel your whole life?!" Harry looked utterly astonished.


    Luca bit his lip, knowing how absurd it sounded, especially for someone aspiring to become an F1 racer. "Maybe go-karts when I was a kid, and, you know, video games..."


    "That doesn''t count!" Harry groaned, placing his hands on his head in disbelief. "Bro, you''re gonna be wiped clean tomorrow."


    Not if my System has anything to say about that, Luca thought with a quiet, determined sneer. He knew the task ahead was daunting, but his System was there to guide him. The idea of facing real competition and driving for the first time in a single-seater made him uneasy, though he did his best to keep a straight face.


    Remembering he had a Daily Quest to attempt and complete, Luca grabbed the timetable Harry had provided. He scanned it, matching it against the routine his System had suggested. The Grey-Husson schedule was streamlined and clear, with just a minor clash with his System''s prescribed routine.


    He glanced at the wall clock. It was 4:00 p.m., and the day was winding down. Standing by the window, he took in the view of the sprawling track and the silent grandstands. Below, engineers and mechanics moved about, still at work on the cars, likely the same ones the participants had used earlier. The sight stirred something in him¡ªa sense of anticipation mixed with nerves.


    Searching for a bar for his pull-ups, Luca found one beneath a corner, potentially for hanging clothes.


    [Host is attempting Monday''s Daily Quest]


    [ANALYSING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    - Speed: 0 km/h (static exercise)


    - Heart Rate: 125 bpm


    - Stamina: 90% (High)


    - Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    - Repetitions: 12 reps


    - Time: 27 sec ]


    The process felt effortless when compared to his last Daily Quests, as he breezed through each repetition with ease, Harry watching him closely.


    Thirty pull-ups were done in under a minute for Luca as his feet landed on the floor when he was over. He flexed his palms that had been gnawed due to the friction on the bars. What about my Rewards?


    [Certainly, host.]


    [Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!]


    [You have been rewarded with (EXP)!


    -Strength +1


    -Endurance +1 ]

 Chapter 15 My First Single-seater

    DAY 4-6[SYSTEM ONLINE]


    Luca was relieved to find that the meal provided at Grey-Husson''s was closely aligned with his dietary needs, even surpassing them in some ways. It fit well within the System''s recommendations. Following Harry''s lead, Luca integrated his Daily Routine with the mandatory morning activities required of all participants.


    After a refreshing bath, he made his way to the locker room, where his racing suit awaited.


    As he stepped into the training hub''s locker room, Luca noticed several other participants¡ªall young men like him¡ªpreparing for the day. Their well-defined physiques took him by surprise; they looked like seasoned athletes. I can''t believe how capable these guys look. Mallow said the age span here is 18-24. Damn, I might be the youngest one.


    He found his locker, marked "31," and tried to ignore the curious glances from the others. Quietly, he asked Harry, who was struggling to pull his racing suit over his head, "How old are you?"


    Harry''s voice came out muffled as he wrestled with the suit, "Twenty, why?"


    "Just curious," Luca replied softly, pulling out his own racing suit. It was a sleek, form-fitting ensemble, primarily black with bold accents of deep blue and silver. It was plain though, devoid of any sponsors and alliances, only designed with the letter G. "I''m eighteen, by the way¡ªjust turned five months ago," he added, as he started to don the suit.


    Harry finally managed to pull his head free from the suit and bit his lip, nodding toward Luca. "No wonder you haven''t touched a wheel yet," he muttered, signaling Luca to follow him as the others began to move out. The other participants didn''t seem too interested in engaging with each other, sticking to their small groups.


    Luca realized that the 31 participants¡ªoriginally thought to be 30¡ªcame from different regional circuits and a few, like Miles, through private applications. Since both he and Harry were hailed from Stadhaven, their pairing made sense amid this diversity.


    He swiftly donned his suit, zipping it up smoothly and completing his look with matching sneakers.


    As the sunrise illuminated Grey-Husson''s Academy, the 31 participants, all dressed and ready, stepped out of the facility. An air of slight competition already crackled among them as they approached a track, where the Chief Instructor and other Training Managers awaited.


    From the corner of his eye, Luca saw Miles striding with confidence, casting a pointed glance his way. In fact, the entire group seemed to be eyeing each other, each participant mentally sizing up potential competitors.


    As they approached the track, Luca''s gaze wandered over the vast expanse, taking in the surrounding beauty. He noticed a significant number of spectators gathered in one of the grandstands. Squinting, he recognized Mr. Mallow among them, alongside what appeared to be the spouses and friends of some competitors.


    One of the Training Managers stood beside Mr. Schafer and began speaking, his tone authoritative. "As you know, boys, this is Day 4," he announced. Luca guessed he held a high position within the facility, given his proximity to Schafer. "Today through to Day 6, we''ll have our first elimination phase, where we filter out the worst from the bad.


    As far as I''m concerned, none of you are good enough, but you''re still acceptable. This is the timed laps and technique test. Each of you will engage in timed laps to gauge your raw driving skills across different sectors of the circuit. We''ll be focusing on technical aspects: cornering, braking, and acceleration."


    The atmosphere dropped quiet for a moment before Mr. Schafer continued from where he stopped. "We will not be judging you on speed, but on precision, and the penalties will be issued for hitting cones, overshooting corners, or excessive braking. The two participants with the most penalties will make use of the gate instantly. I hope you understand?"


    With no one responding, Mr. Schafer nodded, the weight of his years apparent in the slow, deliberate movement. He gestured to the stands, indicating the area reserved for participants, as three racers would take on the course at a time. Luca''s attention was drawn to the far end of the track, where thirty-one single-seaters stood in a pristine row, their sleek frames gleaming under the morning sun.


    They''re even more stunning up close, he thought, savoring the sight.


    He joined the others heading toward the stands, pushing himself to get closer to the single-seaters. His gaze locked onto his own car, instantly recognizable by the bold number 31 emblazoned on its sleek chassis. The car was a striking black and red, with a touch of white along the edges¡ªLuca''s favorite colors for an F1 car.


    He wondered if it was coincidence or fate that it matched his taste so perfectly.


    They all climbed up to the stands and settled into their seats. Luca found himself next to Harry, having been forced to abandon the spot he had originally claimed after being chased off by a group of boys. He considered arguing back but decided against it; engaging with them seemed futile.


    After all, he reasoned, they were just academics¡ªnot racers yet¡ªwith nothing to show for themselves. Raising his voice over a mere seat felt beneath him, an unnecessary distraction and attraction of attention from the staff, who might blacklist him.


    As he watched Numbers 1, 2, and 3 receive their helmets and gear, Luca felt a rush of excitement. The sight of the cars being brought closer by a towing vehicle made his heart race. The participants climbed into their cockpits with a boldness that Luca both admired and envied, as he imagined himself in their place.


    When they were ready to begin, Mr. Schafer signaled for a horn to be blown. The sound cut through the air, and the three F1 cars surged forward, gradually picking up speed as they raced down the track.


    The sound of machinery made Luca''s body twitch with excitement, eager to hop into his own single-seater. Unfortunately, he would be the last to race due to his number. But this had its advantages; he could learn from the mistakes of others before his turn.


    The sparse cheers from the far end of the stands caught his attention. He realized it was the families and friends of the three boys now racing, there to cheer them on. The cars sped through the track at a steady pace, weaving through cones with precision. After navigating a series of curves, they disappeared from view.


    Luca glanced up at the TV mounted by the commentary box, wondering if this circuit was still used for seasonal events. The cameras captured the cars from multiple angles, allowing him to study their movements and visualize his own strategy for the laps to come.


    From their movements, Luca could easily distinguish the participants from professional racers, even those in the Formula 3 division. Nonetheless, their control and ability to navigate the sharp bends were surprising, even though they hit a fair number of cones.


    The timing was set at 2 minutes for two laps in this precision test, and eventually, the three racers completed their run and returned to the base.


    With results to be announced after the sixth day, Mr. Schafer congratulated the boys as they emerged from their single-seaters, looking slightly disoriented. A tow truck took away their cars and brought forth those belonging to Numbers 4, 5, and 6.


    Miles was Number 4. He flashed Luca a boastful grin before accepting his helmet and climbing into his sleek purple single-seater, alongside the other two competitors. The staff helped strapped them in effectively.


    The same horn sounded, and the three cars zoomed off at a steady pace. Luca was genuinely surprised by Miles''s driving skills. It seemed as though he had been training for racing his entire life. Luca kept track of the cones hit, noting that Miles tallied up to eleven, while the previous group had hit over twenty cones. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Training Manager, who had addressed them earlier, gave Miles an approving pat on the back when he and the other two returned to base, with his girlfriend cheering loudly for him.


    This process continued for the remaining participants until it was time for Luca''s set. He had enjoyed watching Harry, Number 22, behind the wheel, who seemed quite good despite hitting 14 cones.


    Finally, the moment Luca had been waiting for arrived as his single-seater was towed to the back of Number 30''s. The three participants were called out, and he quickly sprang to his feet, sizing up the other two.


    Although this particular task wasn''t directly competitive, it certainly felt that way, as everyone was eager to hit fewer cones than their counterparts, especially those they were paired with.


    "Fucking extra," Number 30 spat at Luca before adjusting his helmet over his head.


    Luca accepted his helmet from a staff member, pointedly ignoring the insult as he secured the red and black helmet onto his head. He couldn''t believe how much it felt like he was becoming a real, sleek F1 racer.


    As he approached his single-seater, he paused¡ªnot out of nerves, but because the Formula 1 System rang loudly in his mind, projecting a digital screen before him in the darkness of his helmet.


    [VEHICLE BEFORE HOST HAS BEEN DETECTED...]


    [ANALYZING VEHICLE''S DATA]


    [Vehicle''s status generating...]


    [... Generation complete]


    [Vehicle Specifications:


    Brand: Renault


    Model: R.S.11


    Engine Type: RZ-12 Hybrid Power Unit


    Weight: 640 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h (0 km/h)


    Acceleration: 3.5 sec


    Max Power: 700 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 80%


    Tire Condition: Used (Moderate)


    Telemetry Status: Active


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    Wow, Luca thought out loud. "I had no idea you could do this! This is awesome!"


    [Indeed, host. I can provide accurate data for F1 cars in close proximity. This System indirectly connects you to the vehicle. Please enter your first single-seater, and let''s begin.]


    Taking a deep breath, Luca carefully opened the narrow cockpit by lifting the top canopy with smooth precision, revealing the red seat gleaming under the bright, late morning sun. Looks very comfortable, Luca thought with a grin as he placed his right foot on the lower edge of the side pod.


    He then slid into the seat, tucking his knees close to his chest as he focused his gaze on the steering wheel before him.


    The Grey-Husson''s staff helped strap him tight to the seat.


    The steering wheel resembled a game pad, exactly how Luca had imagined it would look and feel. It had an oval shape and was integrated with numerous buttons and switches that he caressed with his gloved thumb. Their uses and functions were familiar to him, even though he had never been inside a single-seater before.


    He felt the paddle shifters behind the wheel with his index fingers, designed to allow the driver seamless acceleration and deceleration without needing to remove their hands from the wheel.


    [In order not to fully obstruct your view of the track, host, I can also make the System accessible on the digital display of the wheel as well.]


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Renault (R.S.11)]


    Sweet. Luca started the car by pressing the button labeled ENGAGE on the wheel, and the engine calmly roared to life. Vibrations surged through the chassis and up his spine in a relaxing manner. Taking a deep breath, he awaited the sound of the horn, focusing on the back of Number 30''s green car.


    The world outside faded into a blur, everything narrowing down to the vision inside his helmet and the floating digital data of his system.


    The horn cut through the air, prompting Luca to steady himself as he let Number 30 move first. He engaged the clutch with his left foot and selected first gear using the paddle shifter on the right. The rear tires squealed lightly as he released the clutch, gently pressing the accelerator.


    The car promptly lunged forward at a steady pace, the asphalt rushing beneath him. Even with such slow, low acceleration, Luca felt a slight G-force push him back, but he managed to maintain as he slowly tilted his wheel to make the early bend, Number 29 and Number 30 bending before him already.


    [Host is attempting a Racing Task]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 15 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 50m


    -Time: 15 sec ]


    [This Racing Task will be a good method to help increase your pure racing skills, host. Attributes like Intelligence and Stamina are likely to be buffed every time you step into a single-seater.]


    That''s reasonable, Luca replied, making another careful bend and easily getting in touch with the vehicle. The steering wheel responded intuitively in his hands, the car''s sleek frame moving in harmony with the dance of his body in the cockpit. It felt easy and physically demanding at the same time.


    Moving at a steady pace, he had made three bends before spotting the cones laid out for the task. As he approached the first cone, he eased off the throttle and gently turned the wheel, feeling the car respond with precision and grip on the track. The R.S.11 glided through the first gap, its tires whispering against the asphalt.


    Luca focused intently, his heart racing as he aligned the car for the next cone.


    [First cone successfully navigated. Good control maintained, host.]


    [Heart rate has increased by two beats.]


    [You are moving at 12 km/h]


    [Approaching second cone, host.]


    Luca flexed his thumb and pressed down on the throttle, determined to reach the second cone swiftly. He spotted Number 30 ahead, having toppled a cone, and a grin tugged at his lips.


    As he closed in, he eased off the throttle once again, deftly maneuvering the steering wheel to guide his tires through the tight turn. The roar of the car''s engine filled his ears, but his focus remained locked on the rhythm as he felt the aerodynamic forces struggle against him.


    Luca tightened his grip to gain full control as he approached the sharp bend where the cone was positioned. Why would they keep a cone here?! he cursed, tilting the wheel vigorously to escape the shaft of the cone. Just when he thought he had evaded the obstacle, he felt a jolt shoot through the car.


    The sound of the impact echoed in his ears as the rear tire caught the edge of the cone, sending it skittering across the pavement.


    "Great," Luca muttered, taking one glance behind him as he felt the impact reverberate through the chassis of his car. He returned his gaze straight ahead where his System didn''t fail to show him that he had hit a cone. Focusing on the track, he pushed aside the frustration and felt a sense of relief seeing Number 30 topple four more cones.


    With competition stirring within him, Luca decided to overtake Number 30, who had called him an Extra. The other racer was now disoriented after knocking down multiple cones. Without warning, Luca hit the accelerator, bypassing him in a blur of speed while making a sharp turn toward his seventeenth cone.


    [Overtaking Skill used!]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    Number 30 cursed under his breath as Luca''s red and black single-seater advanced, tagging behind Number 29. The first lap of the task was coming to an end, and they swiftly passed the stands from which they had started, the cheers of Luca''s opponent''s family ringing in his ear, making him feel as if they were cheering for him.


    So far, he had only toppled one cone and believed he would end with just that. "System? What''s Sync Bar?" Luca asked as he carefully navigated through another cone, his hands getting accustomed to the gentle tilting of the wheel and the blurring of the world in his peripheral vision. His heart rate was stabilizing now.


    [Sync Bar is a profound connection between you and your vehicle.]


    [With every skill you execute perfectly, the Sync Bar increases until it maxes out at 100%. This 100% acts as energy that you can buff into the Performance Metrics of your car or the values of your Attributes.]


    Fuck! Luca cursed as the front hood of his car hit another cone. The moment of slight befuddlement caused him to jam into his third cone throughout this task. But it didn''t matter, because the two-minute timing was closing in, and the three of them managed to complete the second lap and return to base, unharmed.


    [Congratulations, host. You have completed a Racing Task issued to you.]


    [You had an 85% Performance. Great job!]


    Luca exhaled, finally removing his hands from the wheel as his engine hummed to silence. He opened the cockpit, revealing himself to expect applause, but everyone was stark quiet. Even the staff members who helped him out didn''t offer congratulations.


    How could they? He had the least number of cones hit, showcasing his pinpoint precision and accuracy throughout the task. Luca had even executed an overtaking maneuver when this wasn''t even a competitive race. The silence from the stands was deafening, as if they had deliberately overlooked his impressive performance entirely.


    ¡¤¡¤


    A/N: Hey, I feed on Powerstones for a living. Could you kindly give em? (+_+)

 Chapter 16 My First Single-seater 2 Racing Task

    Day 7-9[SYSTEM ONLINE]


    It was afternoon on the seventh day of the fourteen-day course. The timed laps and technique tests were officially completed on the sixth day, and the two participants who would be leaving were set to be announced today before the next activity kicked off that afternoon.


    For Luca, the past three days had been not only smooth but incredibly rewarding. He had proven himself to be the best in the timed laps and technique tests, especially on the fifth day where he only hit a single cone. Mr. Schafer, seeing Luca''s precision, immediately ordered the cones to be placed in more challenging positions, hoping to raise the stakes.


    On the sixth day, Luca''s tally rose to four hits, yet his results still stood out against the rest of the participants. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His System, recognizing his effort and focus, rewarded him with +1 EXP in Track Awareness for his sharp vigilance in avoiding the cones. He also earned +1 Intelligence, marking his very first level-up in that specific Attribute¡ªa significant achievement that reflected his mental and strategic growth on the track.


    Yet, amidst his achievements, Luca hadn''t found the time to contact his mother or sister as he''d hoped. Most of his hours were consumed in the simulator room, where he tirelessly worked to not only familiarize himself with the track but also to synchronize with its every turn, dip, and nuance.


    Pushing himself to the limit, Luca tweaked the simulator settings to face harder difficulties and extreme atmospheric conditions, often racing against fearsome and unpredictable Formula 1 Division opponents. In these brutal sessions, Luca crashed over and over again, but was grateful that in the end, it was only a simulation.


    It allowed him to push beyond his limits without suffering real-world consequences.


    Earlier that morning, Luca committed himself to completing both his personal Daily Routine as well as the academy''s. As part of this, he and Harry jogged the length of the circuit, using the run to survey the circuit and understand its scale, the physical challenges it presented when experienced on foot.


    As noon approached, they were required to head back to the main building to change into their suits in preparation for the second activity of the course.


    Luca couldn''t help but feel the weight of the attention¡ªboth good and bad¡ªhe''d begun to attract. He disliked how he was starting to pull in haters, like a piece of bread attracting ravens. All he wanted was to do his best, and yet, no matter how hard he pushed himself, it felt like it wasn''t enough. Even the Training Manager, Sir Grimwald, seemed to favor Miles, despite Luca''s consistent efforts.


    Now, standing before the staff and management, Luca and the remaining participants awaited the announcement of who would be sent home.


    "Numbers 14 and 12, please make use of the gate. Formula 1 is extremely far from you," Sir Grimwald declared, his voice cold and unsympathetic. There wasn''t a trace of mercy in his tone as the two unlucky drivers shuffled out of the group, heading down the track toward the gate in defeat.


    "As you all know, boys, this is Day 7. A new activity awaits," Grimwald continued, his voice still carrying that edge. "Today, tomorrow, and the next, we''ll be focusing on the Mid-Speed Chase Activity. The remaining twenty-nine of you will be paired up. The objective is simple: each pair from the chasing team must overtake a leading driver within a limited number of laps¡ªspecifically, three."


    Just like before, Mr. Schafer continued from where he stopped, breaking the eerie silence that had followed. "Indeed. This Task is to push your limits on speed and maneuverability, paying attention to each turn and straightaway¡ªknowing when to accelerate and when to hold back will be crucial so as to prevent or bypass whoever you are chasing.


    At the end of this activity, the five participants with the least overtaking frequency, and overall poor performance will have to be eliminated. Let''s begin."


    Luca took a deep breath as the group made their way across the track once more, heading toward the stands where their single-seaters sat gleaming in the afternoon sun. The crowd was noticeably smaller now, with only the agents and scouts of the participants watching closely from the stands.


    Unluckily for Luca, he ended up being selected into the pursued group. But on the bright side, Harry was in the pursued group as well. His face darkened when he discovered Miles was selected into the pursuers, along with a whole lot of hefty boys.


    The participants of the pursued group had their single-seaters towed 70 metres away from the pursuing group. This was done to allow them to have a head start and gain a reasonable, leveled advantage.


    "We''ll stick together," Harry said to Luca as he hopped swiftly into his own cockpit.


    Luca studied Harry''s car, and his System dubiously displayed its specifics due to the close proximity.


    [VEHICLE BEFORE HOST HAS BEEN DETECTED...]


    [ANALYZING VEHICLE''S DATA]


    [Vehicle''s status generating...]


    [... Generation complete]


    [Vehicle Specifications:


    Brand: BMW


    Model: BMW T4 BC3


    Engine Type: 2.5-liter inline-6


    Weight: 520 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 150 km/h (0 km/h)


    Acceleration: 6 sec


    Max Power: 460 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 0.35 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 80%


    Tire Condition: Used (Moderate)


    Telemetry Status: Active


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    Why is Harry''s car mediocre? It''s way lower than mine. So, everyone''s car isn''t on the same level? Luca thought as he looked to the side, his gaze drifting to the far end of the racing track where the pursuing group was boarding their single-seaters. Damn, the System can''t analyze from this distance.


    [I can host, just not with your Rookie Bundle.]


    Luca wanted to get a better sense of how quick and efficient Miles'' car was. From what he could tell, it looked like a Mercedes product, and Mercedes cars were known for their efficiency. He frowned, tightening his helmet as he slid into his cockpit.


    Through the side of his cockpit opening, he caught a glimpse of Harry giving him a reassuring thumbs-up, the engines of their cars and those of their teammates roaring with anticipation, ready for the start.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Renault (R.S.11)]


    The blare of the horn shattered the air, prompting Luca''s fingers to spring into action on the wheel. The drifting tires of Numbers 8, 12, 15, 26, and 27 momentarily obscured his view of the track as they all sped off quickly. Luca slammed his foot on the throttle, accelerating as soon as he had enough space to do so, Harry''s car moving beside him.


    [Host is attempting a Racing Task]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 15 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 50m


    -Time: 15 sec ]


    The team approached the early bend of the circuit, their seven cars tilting in perfect harmony as their tires grazed the yellow line marking the edge of the track. As they rounded the turn, Luca seized the opportunity to increase his speed, casting a quick glance into his side mirror to gauge the progress of their pursuers.


    Damn it! Luca cursed under his breath, alarmed to see that the competition had already formed a tight formation, surging forward as if they had been launched the moment the horn blared. He snapped his focus back to the track ahead, his R.S.11 slicing through the smoke as he readied himself for the next bend. No cones this time¡ªlet''s see what I can do.


    [This Racing Task will be a good method to increase your handling of speed and braking while working on strategy and maneuverability.]


    "Harry?" Luca called out to his friend over the communicable radio. "Do you know that your vehicle''s model is slower? Hit that throttle and get as far as possible."


    **Really? Got it!** Harry replied, his salute visible through the blur as Luca sped ahead. He watched Harry''s black-and-blue car roar to life, rocketing past Number 12 with an ear-splitting growl, almost as if the other driver were a mere obstacle in his way.


    Alright, time to focus on my ride. Luca adjusted his posture for optimal handling, feeling the vibrations of the vehicle humming beneath him. He gripped the steering wheel with determination, his eyes fixed on his teammates as they navigated the upcoming turn. His fingers danced over the control switches and buttons, a blend of precision and instinct guiding him.


    Pressing down on the brake pedal, he carefully modulated the pressure to maintain control while tilting the wheel, his tires responding deftly as they hugged the curve.


    Luca was acutely aware of the pursuer closing in behind him. With his substantial knowledge of racing, he understood that pursuers often held the upper hand; instead of trying to escape them, the strategy was to embrace their presence and create disorientation.


    As he maneuvered through the bend, Luca adjusted his line, keeping a close watch on his side mirror, inviting the pursuer in.


    [Number 11 closing in]


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to disclose an opponent]


    "Don''t worry, System. I know how to do this in some traditional way," Luca replied, slamming down on the throttle as he tightened his turn just as Number 11''s front tires edged into his peripheral vision. The sudden shift forced the other driver to react quickly, decelerating rapidly and losing his rhythm.


    A wild grin spread across Luca''s face as he maintained full control of his R.S.11, adjusting his throttle to zip through the open space ahead. He had bought himself some breathing room before the next pursuer could make their move.


    **Oh, punk! I thought he''d pass you!** Number 15 sneered as he called out to Luca as he fell into sync with the rhythmic formation of his teammates, navigating the track as they completed the first lap.


    "You should be more concerned about yourself," Luca shot back, glancing at him before pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. "That''s Miles coming at you!"


    Without warning, Luca cut in front of Number 15, disrupting their formation and throwing off his speed. This allowed Number 4, Miles, to catch up instantly and overtake him. Now, Number 15 had to scramble to avoid being passed by the other pursuers while Miles charged ahead toward the fleers.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 150 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 3600 m


    -Time: 2 min. 5 sec ]


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    [Intelligence +1]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][]25%]


    With a keen eye on the dashboard, Luca monitored his tire temperatures by himself without the help of the System, ensuring he wasn''t pushing them too hard¡ªespecially since this wasn''t an official competitive race. The indicators were green, confirming there were no issues, but he knew these tires weren''t fresh. Still, he hoped they would hold out.


    Just as he suspected, the pursuers didn''t waste time overtaking most of their team, pushing him closer to the front with Harry and Number 8. Three pursuers had already knocked out half their group and were heading straight for them. Luca''s heart pounded¡ªhe prayed he''d finish the laps before they caught up, but it was looking grim.


    "Let''s trap him, shall we?" Luca suggested to Harry and Number 8. "I''ll move ahead, and you guys stay on his sides, sound good?"


    **You fucking sharper, you think I''m that dumb?!** Number 8 bellowed, clearly skilled enough to stick around this long. **How about I take the lead, and you do the flanking?**


    "Some of us don''t have cars good enough to stay ahead, and yours is one of them," Luca shot back, his voice sounding more robotic than he intended. "Just give him a good flank¡ªwe''ll force him to skid away, right, Harry?"


    **I''m not so sure, we might risk ourselves¡­** Harry replied, sounding doubtful as they approached the bend that marked the end of the second lap, passing by the stands where the scouts watched closely.


    Luca cursed loud enough for them to hear. He had no time to forge a teaming alliance, he had the perfect teammate with him¡ªthe Formula 1 System. Hitting his throttle, he zoomed past Number 8 and Number 22, Harry, taking his R.S.11 far away as possible.


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][]37.5%]


    "I''m still yet to use this Sync Bar, System."


    [When completed to 100%, its utilization will be clear to you, favoring you and your vehicle on the track.]


    Luca heard Harry''s warning crackling through the radio. A quick glance back revealed the pursuing single-seaters revving toward him. They had completely overtaken Harry and Number 8 and were hurtling straight for him now.


    Fuck! Luca cursed under his breath, snapping his focus back to the track ahead, desperate to complete the lap as quickly as possible. Just imagine how many points he could score by finishing this task without any overtakes.


    It felt like a pack of hungry wolves closing in on a lone deer, tailing his every turn on the track. With no obstacles or teammates in sight, Luca decided to push his R.S.11 to its limits, maximizing its horsepower.


    To his surprise, a single-seater gradually came into view on his side. A familiar figure in the cockpit waved at him. How is this possible?! I''m at top speed! Luca exclaimed as Miles caught up alongside him. They maneuvered side by side, dangerously close as they approached a bend.


    Luca made sure to accelerate, taking advantage of his position on the inside of the turn. Failing to do so might have allowed Miles to slip ahead.


    Luca couldn''t believe Miles was managing to keep pace with him despite the gap he had created. Realizing his vehicle was now close enough to analyze, he ordered his System to do so.


    [VEHICLE BEFORE HOST HAS BEEN DETECTED...]


    [ANALYZING VEHICLE''S DATA]


    [Vehicle''s status generating...]


    [... Generation complete]


    [Vehicle Specifications:


    Brand: Mercedes


    Model: AMG-F1


    Engine Type: Mercedes PU106C Hybrid V6


    Weight: 740 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 350 km/h (200 km/h)


    Acceleration: 8 sec


    Max Power: 900 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 0.21 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 64%


    Tire Condition: Used (Moderate)


    Telemetry Status: Active


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    Damn. I knew it was a Mercedes, but I didn''t know it was an amazing one. How can they give some racers better cars than the others?!


    Luca didn''t have time to dwell on it; Miles hit the turbo and cut in front of him, causing Luca to stagger from the sudden G-force. His body vibrated with energy, but he remained resolute. He shook his head in dismay, refusing to accept that Miles had overtaken him.


    Determined to reclaim his position before the lap ended, Luca flicked up the gear and gripped the wheel tightly, his body arching as the car responded deftly. The whistling sound of speed filled his ears, and if it weren''t for his Track Awareness, he might have faced a serious accident.


    Quickly tilting his wheel the opposite way from where he had intended to, a wildcard pursuer zoomed past him with unreal speed, nearly making contact with Luca''s car''s frame.


    [You have suffered another overtake.]


    The sudden rush of speed disoriented Luca as the air whipped past his vehicle, igniting his instincts. He overcorrected, turning the wheel too sharply in a frantic attempt to regain his line and balance.


    Unfortunately for Luca, his tires lost grip and skidded off the track, the car lurching sideways. Fuck! Luca cursed, finding himself veering off course, his wheel seeming to have no control of his tires as the track faded away, replaced by the sound of grass crunching under his tires.


    [You have abandoned racing task, host.]


    [Punishment will be Issued.]


    What the¡ª? Punishment? I did not abandon the race¡ªBefore Luca could speak to his System further the back bumper that had been skidding, crashed softly into a tree, jolting him violently.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 0 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 117 bpm


    -Operational Status: 25% (Poor)


    -Breathing: Hiked


    -Distance covered: 4100 m


    -Time: 3 min. 8 sec ]


    Luca cursed relentlessly as he climbed out of the cockpit, standing on his seat to watch the other vehicles zoom away, racing toward the end of the third and final lap. Doubts gnawed at him. He wondered if this would affect his chances of winning in the Grey-Husson''s Academy. He wondered if he would be going home after this activity.


    Mallow, along with the engineers and mechanics, rushed over to assess the R.S.11, which had sustained some minor damage. Meanwhile, the Formula 1 System was unforgiving, and did not take it easy on him.


    [Punishment:


    Track Awareness -3 ]

 Chapter 17 Met A Mechanic

    Luca strolled around the circuit after completing a strenuous Daily Quest that his System had issued to him, raising his Agility Attribute to 4. He took a deep breath of the evening air, feeling the cold breeze and slight drizzle brush across the landscape of asphalt, grass, and tracks. This is my life, Luca thought to himself.After roaming for a while, he decided to retire to the main building for a sumptuous dinner before heading to bed. Just as he was about to climb the short steps, a glimmer of golden light caught his attention in the encroaching dusk darkness. The golden light emanated from what appeared to be a workshop, accompanied by the clanking of metal and motor parts.


    Luca recalled that his R.S.11 was under service after he had uncontrollably veered off the path and crashed the underside into a tree. The memory of that incident gnawed at him, but he was grateful to the heavens for not being one of the five participants sent home earlier today.


    To emphasize his luck, Luca was the last survivor, his name being called just before the line where the five were selected for elimination. I don''t want to be on a plane to London anytime soon.


    Figuring the car being repaired in the workshop must be his R.S.11, Luca decided to stroll a bit closer for a look.


    He walked along a narrow tarred path where the management''s and scouts'' normal cars were parked, approaching the workshop''s garage door. The golden light reflected on the wet ground as the sound of clanking and screwing grew louder with each step, revealing the interior of the workshop.


    Responsibly, Luca knocked on the aluminum door and called out, "Hello," leaning in slightly to catch a glimpse inside.


    Luca''s eyes lingered on the walls of the workshop, glistening under the bright, golden light from the ceiling. He couldn''t believe the area was larger than it appeared; it felt like a whole new station within. The outer facade had created that deception.


    Tools were meticulously arranged on pegboards, while workstations overflowed with parts¡ªsuspension components, tires, and aerodynamic pieces¡ªall clearly labeled for easy access.


    His gaze shifted to the ground, where the constant whirr and clatter of metal filled the air. There, he spotted two legs protruding from beneath a standard Toyota, the rest of the vehicle hidden from view. It was clear that whoever was working there hadn''t heard his initial "hello."


    Luca contemplated leaving the workshop after realizing it wasn''t the R.S.11 being repaired; in fact, it wasn''t even a single-seater. Yet, a sense of curiosity held him in place, urging him to knock on the garage door again¡ªthis time, louder.


    The person under the black Toyota quickly slid out with the help of a creeper. The figure stood up immediately, revealing her full appearance.


    Luca''s eyes widened as he found himself face-to-face with a girl on the other side of the workshop, the car acting as a barrier between them. Their gazes locked, and he noticed the irritation in her expression at his interruption. "Hello," Luca said again, a bit uncertain.


    Holding up a spanner, the girl replied, "And how can I help you?" She was dressed in a fitted navy blue jumpsuit, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing strong yet feminine arms. Her ponytail swayed slightly as two strands cascaded down her cheeks, her face smudged with dark oil.


    "No, no, no, I''m not in need of any help at all. I was just curious about the workshop, that''s all," Luca quickly clarified, glancing around the garage. Remembering his original purpose, he decided it might be wise to reassure her that he wasn''t just being nosy. "It''s about my race car... has it been fixed?"


    The girl frowned, her brows furrowing as if the question displeased her. "Who are you?"


    Luca cleared his throat, realizing his voice might have come out dark and threatening. "I''m a participant here, number 31," he replied, trying to sound more approachable. "You should know me; I hit my car the other day."


    "Oh!" the girl exclaimed, dropping the spanner onto the hood of the car, her other hand resting on her hip. "You mean the Renault?"


    "Yes, the Renault. I don''t see it here."


    "Don''t worry; it''ll be up and running by tomorrow, right in the comfort of your hands," she said, sizing up the Toyota like a chef inspecting a cut of meat. "My superiors finished it earlier today; it''s in the inner platforms, getting refurbished."


    Luca smiled, feeling a surge of relief. His car would look nicer now. "That''s cool," he uttered.


    The girl feigned a smile in return, nodding. "Yes, it is. Now, please, would you let me resume my work?" she pleaded ironically.


    "Sure," Luca replied, pulling his hands from his sweater pockets and raising them in mock surrender. He stared hard at her for a moment before turning to leave, then stopped halfway. "Can I know your name?" he asked suddenly.


    The girl, who was about to slide back underneath the car, looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "You don''t know who I am?" she replied incredulously.


    "I wouldn''t have asked that if I did. Are you someone special?"


    "I''m the Chief Manager''s daughter, you dimwit!" she snapped, defending her title. "Every participant knows this. Are you sure you belong here? You look like... you look like you don''t really fit in, no offense."


    There''s an offence. Though it stung, Luca shook it off. That was nothing compared to what he had received and endured throughout his life. "So, what''s your name?" he asked again. "My name''s Luca."


    "I am Isabella," she replied. "It''s nice to meet you Luca, in such an atmosphere." sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It''s nice to meet you too," Luca replied with a chuckle. "You don''t look anything like your father. If you did, I might have guessed," he said, stepping further into the workshop, believing he had set up an informal platform between them. As he expected, she did not complain.


    "The old man married a Mexican; you can''t blame him," Isabella said, sliding underneath the vehicle as she resumed her work.


    "I see," Luca muttered, his fingers brushing lightly against the neatly arranged tools on the tables as he roamed. "I wonder what the Chief Manager''s daughter is doing working as a mechanic in his establishment..."


    "Don''t be too smart," Isabella shot back instantly, her voice emerging with a hint of syntheticity as she twisted a bolt. "I decided to pursue what I love, and I love repairing and fixing cars. I''ve loved machines ever since I can remember."


    "I like cars too," Luca lied, knowing that he didn''t really like cars¡ªhe liked Formula 1 racing. Those were entirely two different things. "In fact, I''m kind of a car geek myself."


    "Oh, really?" Isabella stretched the words, sliding out from under the car and rising to her feet. She tapped and caressed the hood of the Toyota, flashing a sly smile at Luca. "What is the model type of this sedan, huh?"


    Luca grinned wildly, convinced he was one step ahead and had anticipated this question before he lied. System? Please retrieve and analyze the data on this Toyota before me, Luca ordered.


    [I''m sorry, host, I can''t proceed with that request.]


    I¡ªI don''t understand.


    [This is the Formula 1 System. I can only provide you with data of single-seater cars alone, not just any vehicle.]


    Ah, fuck me. Plan has backfired. Can you guess at least?


    [Not at all, host.]


    "Toyota 4AV?" Luca ventured, recalling something similar he had seen in the news one day.


    Isabella chuckled softly, shaking her head. "That''s even an incorrect mixture of the alphanumeric; you''re wrong. It''s the Toyota A-4LVV," she sneered.


    "I freaking knew I heard something like that," Luca muttered silently, watching her wipe her hands clean with a rag, though little came off.


    Realizing it would be best to leave before his presence became a burden, Luca pushed himself off the table he had been leaning on and walked toward the open garage door. "I''ll be going now. Can I have your number?"


    "Can you have my number?" Isabella repeated, eyebrows raised. "Why would you want that?"


    Why would I want that. Why would I want that? She''s right. Why the heck would I want her number?! I don''t even have a freaking phone. What am I gonna call her with, the facility''s telephone?!


    Luca shook away his thoughts, expertly experienced at keeping a fine line between his thoughts and words. "I want your number because I find you interesting. If you don''t want to share, I understand," he said.


    "No, it''s not that I don''t want to share," Isabella replied quickly with a shrug. "What''s next after we exchange digits? You almost got eliminated today. If we had this conversation yesterday, you''d be back in your city with the number of some girl from across the country."


    "On the bright side, I didn''t get eliminated," Luca sneered. "I''m still here, and I will win the ultimatum."


    "You? You think you''ll win? I know better participants," Isabella said.


    "Well, if I win, then can I have your number?" Luca proposed, his heart pounding.


    Shrugging and nodding thoughtfully, Isabella accepted the bet. Though Luca wasn''t exceptionally handsome, his aura of maturity was certainly admirable. After exchanging night greetings, Luca left the workshop and headed back to the main building, walking beneath the now intensified drizzle.


    A tingling sense of joy swirled within him after the encounter. Though he had long unintentionally refrained from female interactions, his youthful charm should suffice from time to time. Luca believed he should at least give this one a chance.


    He slipped into bed after dinner and a shower, his eyes closing instantly as soon as his head hit the pillow. Though he had slept for seven hours, it felt like three, as his System blared loudly in his ears at the break of day.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Host should begin Daily Routine.]


    Luckily for Luca, today and tomorrow were free of activities, as the twelfth day would hold the final race that would determine the selectable seven for scouting and potential team signings into the real world of motorsport.

 Chapter 18 Ultimatum

    The two days of rest, as quick as a whisper of wind, vanished away, barely audible and indiscernible. The facility was awfully quiet during this time, with only the frustrated grunts of remaining participants in the simulators whenever they failed to emerge first. Apart from that, everyone had stayed in their respective hailing rooms, but Luca and Harry surprisingly found interest in playing cards.Even on the morning of the twelfth day, after all routines were completed, they engaged in conversation about their fears while playing. Delving deeper, they spoke a little about their families, and this led Luca to spill out his encounter from the night before.


    Harry was completely shellshocked, swearing by his finishing position that Luca was more than lucky to spend even five seconds with the Chief Manager''s daughter.


    Laughing it off, the two managed to finish one last game before it was time for the final chapter and the concluding activity of the course. The training hub''s locker room felt tense and charged, filled with an anxious energy that Luca believed was palpable, creeping over his body.


    No one uttered a word to each other; not even the boys who had previously been allies¡ªthey were all opponents now, after all. Each had been medically rechecked and deemed eligible to race.


    Walking out, clad in their racing suits of different colors, the managerial team of Grey-Husson stood at the edge of the track. The post-rain atmosphere provided a slightly clouded view, and the sun wasn''t out; Luca guessed it might not appear until around late morning. He wondered if the atmosphere would affect the race.


    Taking his gaze to the stands, Luca noticed they were filled with more spectators than on the very first elimination day. Though it wasn''t a massive crowd, it was still a significant number, enough to create a buzz if they all screamed and drummed in unison. The crowd ranged from small-sized people to adults, filled with more unfamiliar faces. This will be interesting.


    A surge to push our determination, very encouraging.


    A whisper of movement brushed Luca''s neck, as if one of his competitors was invading his personal space from behind. "Don''t be a tryhard; your puny skills won''t cut it in 34 laps¡ªthis is all about endurance," Miles hissed before vanishing into the group just as quickly as he had appeared.


    Luca spotted him and fought the urge to raise his middle finger, fearing he might breach some rules if that gesture were seen, ceasing his stay here before he could even get to his single-seater. What Miles didn''t know was that Luca had increased his Endurance by 2 and Strength by 1 over the past two days.


    Speaking of single-seaters, Luca located his R.S.11 among the twenty-four cars aligned for the remaining participants.


    After crossing the first track, they approached the third, where the Chief Manager and his team stood, ready to begin at a moment''s notice. All units were on standby, especially the telemetry team, responsible for monitoring the condition of all cars and warning the rookie racers if they became too engrossed in the track to notice any issues themselves.


    "This will be a simple and traditional race with slight changes. You will each have one pit, but only one person can use it at a time. All existing rules still apply, and breaking them will result in severe penalties, regardless of who you are," Sir Grimwald stated, clapping his hands and gesturing for Mr. Schafer to speak.


    However, the aged man had no words and sat down awkwardly, signaling for the race to begin.


    The participants all donned their helmets, adjusting them as they turned to face the tow truck arranging their single-seaters in a specific formation for the race start. Their cars were positioned in pairs, with no leading pole position car in sight.


    Luca''s System analyzed his R.S.11, confirming it was ready to go. It also scanned a few other vehicles, heightening Luca''s worry about the disparities among them. Some cars were well-equipped, while others fell short.


    Directed to enter their cockpits, the participants dubiously complied, hopping into their cars and effortlessly closing their roofs, marking the end of their seamless motion. Everything was in place, and it was time to begin the 34-lap race that would determine the face of Grey-Husson''s this year and the selectable seven.


    Luca felt comfortable as he settled into the embrace of his R.S.11, relishing and appreciating the interior, noting the slight amendments the mechanics had made to it. The luxurious scent of rich leather enveloped him, the wheel feeling lighter, agile and more suiting in his grip as he caressed the switches, flicks and buttons, mentally rehearsing their positions to avoid confusion.


    The dashboard gleamed with reflecting lines, while the ambient, soft lighting created a soothing atmosphere for what would be a tensed driving.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Renault (R.S.11)]


    However, with the synchronization, confusion was simply not an option. He was now one with the R.S.11, and the car would respond to his every command, as if it were an extension of himself, only faltering when faced with physical damage or unexpected track challenges.


    Instantly, the meticulous details of his car appeared in the digital interface within his helmet, the surrounding darkness projecting it like a cinematic display. His single-seater looked good and ready to go, and it even felt right in his grasp, instilling in Luca the belief that he had a strong chance of winning, or at least finishing in the top three.


    Remembering the bet he had made with the Chief Manager''s daughter, Luca shifted his mindset, swearing that second position was not an option. I need to win something in my life for once.


    knock knock


    A knock resonated against the frame of the R.S.11. Luca glanced to the side, where Mallow was bent over his car with a radio to his lips, urging Luca to switch on his own radio.


    Luca switched it on immediately. "Uhmmm...Is...there a problem?"


    "No, not at all," Mallow replied with a synthetic voice, taking a moment to glance at the track before looking down at Luca. "Just came to talk to you after speaking to Harry. All agents have been allowed to do so. But bear in mind, this doesn''t happen during real races."


    "Yes, sir. I know that."


    "How comfy are you in there, son? Pretty nervous?" Mallow asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He stared intently at Luca''s helmet, wishing he could see through it to discern the boy''s true expression. He had learned that Luca was very good at hiding his feelings and expressions.


    "It''s my first real race, so I''m bound to be nervous, but I''m all good. Don''t bother," Luca replied with a shrug, his hands still gripping the wheel.


    "Of course I trust you. Although the second activity was a letdown, you were far the best in the first. Show that same spirit right here, before this little crowd," Mallow said, gesturing around them. "Then you''ll find yourself racing against Marco Rossi by the end of this year."


    Luca chuckled softly, taking one hand off the wheel for a quick salute. "Aye, sire." He had no idea who Marco Rossi was. This new generation of F1 racers were oblivious to Luca.


    Mallow nodded and switched off his radio before walking across the asphalt toward the stands to sit and watch. Luca switched off his as well, hitting the ENGAGE button as soon as it was time to do so.


    [As finishing at least top 7 in this race will grant you a chance of completing your Mission, I have no choice but to place a Daily Quest concerning this race.]


    Luca''s shoulders dropped. "Please, don''t. You''ll just add pressure on me, c''mon."


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been Issued!]


    The familiar words texted out in Roboto font on the System''s digital interface.


    [-¡¤-EMERGE FIRST OUT OF THIS 34-LAP RACE-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: NIL]


    [This will help improve your overall Attributes and Skills, making you use and implement them.]


    [Reward for Completing Saturday''s Daily Quest: (EXP)


    -Strength +2


    -Stamina +2


    -Endurance +2


    -Agility +2


    -Intelligence +2


    -Reflexes +3


    -Overtaking Skill +3


    -Track Awareness +3 ]


    [As the race is a self-driven endeavor, consequences such as experience point reduction for quests as a stern punishment for deliberate abandonment or simple incompetence will not be issued.]


    [Consequence for Failing Saturday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Severe purging caused by forced nausea and temporal dysentery will occur.]


    "Are you trying to kill me...? Dysentery? Really? I had sworn I would not have that in my life again," Luca complained, shaking his head as he drummed his index fingers on the crafted frame of the wheel. I''ll have to win then; the rewards are sumptuous.


    The revving of the vehicles tore through the morning air, a symphony of machinery and engines, brimming with power as they all awaited the loud horn.


    Luca peered down the race track. They had been racing on this particular circuit for six days, and he had become quite familiar with it. He relaxed in his seat, arms stretched out to the wheel as he took a deep breath, feeling the vibration of the engine beneath him.


    He adjusted his grip, tapping his fingers lightly against the steering wheel, syncing his heartbeat with the rhythm of the engines around him. With each passing moment waiting for the horn, he began to visualize the course in his mind¡ªturns, straightaways, and where to push harder.


    The horn blared.


    Luca closed his eyes for a brief second after the sound, then surged forward, joining the early cluster of black and multicolored machinery. It was challenging to navigate without bumping into each other, and even the first bend proved to be more stressful than anticipated.


    [Host is attempting a Race]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 75 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 135 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    -Distance covered: 150m


    -Time: 30 sec ]


    Luca guided his wheel out of the bend, mimicking the movements of the cars ahead of him. Soon enough, all the participants had made it through the bend and were speeding down a straightaway.


    [7th Position]


    Luca wondered where Harry was. He scanned the track, aware that this was still the first lap with thirty-three more to go. He spotted Harry in 9th position, doing fairly well just behind him. They were still clustered together, and Luca knew he had to implement some of his Skills to level up and gain an advantage.


    For the first lap, the racers danced through the circuit at a steady speed, none attempting radical overtakes or reckless maneuvers. However, at the start of the second lap, things began to change. Securing advantageous positions became crucial to maximizing their chances of finishing well.


    [6th Position]


    [Stamina +1]


    Luca gripped the wheel tighter as he hurtled down a straightaway that felt like a sloping hill. The roar of engines from other participants trying to overtake surrounded him. As he completed the straightaway, he saw 5th position taking a turn, and he followed suit, aware of 7th position right on his tail.


    His tires gripped the asphalt as he leaned on the wheel, shifting his weight slightly in rhythm to how he tilted the wheel. The smooth action made him cut in through a tight corner, the same move the reckless driver was attempting when he struck Luca in Stadhaven.


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][]12.5%]


    [5th Position]


    Once the bend was over, Luca hit the accelerator, surging forward with lightning speed as his body jerked back from the massive G-force hitting his chest. Fuck! That was lethal!


    [Strength +1]


    [Endurance +1]


    [You are gathering speed]


    Luca had to push himself. Positions 1, 2, 3, and 4 had already reached this straightaway, building up their speed as well. Letting them gain a lap on him was not something Luca was willing to accept.


    Checking his Operational Status details, he reassured himself that his tires were fine after that exertion. No need for a stop, he thought, glancing at his cautious side mirror.


    He seemed alone on this section of the course, which made him understand the true meaning of the phrase "the calm before the storm." With the other racers momentarily behind, he seized the opportunity to focus on his technique while maintaining his speed to catch up with the leaders.


    He took a deep breath, relishing the silence that surrounded him, the only sounds being the hum of his engine and the rush of wind.

 Chapter 19 Ultimatum 2 Race To Make It

    Frustratingly for Luca, he remained in 5th position throughout the 3rd and 4th laps, maintaining a steady speed that kept him just ahead of 6th, but still lagging behind 4th.[DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 180 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 140 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 14200m


    -Time: 4 min. 15 sec ]


    He adjusted the positioning of his tires, zooming through the course, his eyes fixed on the hovering holographic number 4 sign in the distance, beckoning him as he pushed his car''s power. By the 6th lap, an opportunity presented itself, and Luca could feel his single-seater closing in on Number 4''s.


    Realizing it wasn''t the same car he''d been trailing earlier, a smile crept onto his face¡ªthis was turning into a true competition.


    A subtle bend in the track approached, prompting Luca to tilt his wheel ever so slightly for a smooth glide through the slanted asphalt. His tires, heated from the aggressive pace, gripped the road tightly and handled the curve with precision, allowing him to shrink the gap between him and the car ahead¡ªNumber 4, a Honda product running steadily.


    Luca locked his focus on the Honda''s rear, maintaining a constant speed to match it. Dammit. He knows I''m right behind him. Alright, there''s a bend, I can cut in there, he plotted, his hands instinctively guiding the wheel in seamless motions as he scanned for an opening. But Number 4 was skillful¡ªblocking every potential gap, expertly maneuvering to prevent Luca from making any decisive move.


    The bend loomed closer, and Luca made his decision. Now or never, he gritted his teeth and pressed down on the throttle. The engine roared in response, a deep growl filling the cockpit. With his heart pounding, he flicked the DRS (Drag Reduction System) switch, aiming to gain extra speed on the straight before the bend.


    His thumbs tightened on the wheel, and a surge of G-force slammed into him, pressing his body back into the seat like a sledgehammer as the car shot forward.


    [Strength +1]


    [You have accelerated to 240 km/h]


    Luca''s R.S.11 lunged ahead, the aerodynamic force pulling at the frame of the car as it pierced through the air, edging to the left of Number 4. The Honda''s rear wing was just inches away from the nose of Luca''s car. As the curve intensified, Luca didn''t back down, pushing forward with a surge of speed, now matching Number 4.


    Luca swore he could hear Number 4 curse, but he had no time to glance in his direction. Number 4 was actually squeezing him down to the outer edge of the bend, where the track threatened to give way to the caution zone. Oh, you dare not, Luca growled inwardly, tightening his grip on the wheel as his tires screamed, terrified of the edge of the caution zone just centimeters away. System?


    Don''t I have any Skills to escape this situation? He''s matching my speed, and I can''t cut in.


    [Unfortunately, host. Your skills are still F-ranked, basic skills that every Formula 1 racer tends to have. By delving into D-ranked and C-ranked Skills, you might have options to explore.]


    [However, you can only utilize those available to you. I suggest using the Overtaking Skill, but the Honda''s speed seems to be daunting. Slowing is not an option, host.]


    "Well, alright," Luca replied, the grass to his left a blur as he zoomed past, the Honda still pushing him down without contact. Looking straight ahead, Luca found relief in knowing that what had seemed like an endless bend finally straightened up. Numbers 1, 2, and 3 were nowhere to be seen, with 3 zooming down lonely into the horizon.


    Unfortunately for Luca and the still-leading Honda in 4th position, they had been squeezing themselves to one side of the track, inadvertently granting a clear path of speed for the lagging participants.


    Before they knew it, three single-seaters zipped past them, claiming 4th, 5th, and 6th positions respectively, their speed not relenting as they chased after each other and position 3 on the asphalt.


    [8th position]


    Luca cursed under his breath, frustration bubbling as the digital interface before him displayed a number reflecting his drop to eighth. The driver in seventh had just become aware of their mistake and began to ease off the track''s edge, allowing Luca to reclaim his territory. Bastard, he thought bitterly, steering his car back onto the main line with purpose.


    With a surge of determination, Luca pressed down on the throttle, the engine roaring in response as he adjusted his controls. A fleeting glance at his car''s status confirmed everything was still green. With a deft flick of his wrist, he surged ahead, effortlessly overtaking the Honda and claiming the seventh position.


    [7th Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [Endurance +1]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][]37.5%]


    Luca focused intently as the next few laps unfolded in a blur. The 6th position he had been striving to achieve finally came easy to him when the car ahead of his R.S.11 became the first to make a pit stop. As the Honda veered off the track, he seized the opportunity, accelerating past with a surge of adrenaline, reclaiming territory he had worked so hard to regain.


    The engine roared in response, and for a brief moment, he felt a sense of relief as he moved up the leaderboard.


    [6th Position] S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [10th Lap Completed host!]


    [Stamina +1]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 200 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 120 bpm


    -Operational Status: 65% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 34 050m


    -Time: 15 min. ]


    Luca felt his engine purr harder beneath him, and he began to contemplate pitting either on this lap or the next. "System? What do you say? Should I wait for the management to tell me?" Luca asked, focused on his race as he defended his position while still pushing forward.


    [Although waiting for the telemetry team to order you is standard, I recommend pitting now while the track is still in its prime heat window. This stage allows better tire management before degradation accelerates in the later laps.]


    Luca took in a deep breath, gently maneuvering through a bend as he approached the pit stop with straightaway speed. His grip tightened on the wheel as he flicked the pit limiter button, slowing down his car to meet the pit lane speed regulations. The roar of the engine softened, replaced by the controlled hum as he smoothly guided his car into the pit lane within quick seconds.


    The team that was already lined up, chatting, instantly sprang into action. Luca swore that he saw the girl he spoke to the other day, Isabella, part of the crew. Though they were not as fast as a professional pit crew, their actions were carried out in a flash. Once he felt his car''s tires drop back with a thud, the signal of go, Luca rocketed out of the pit lane, diverting onto the track.


    A short-lived joy enveloped his heart when he believed he hadn''t been overtaken during the pit stop, but the Honda and another car zoomed past him once he regained footing. Luca cursed, building up speed once more as he felt his new tires grip the asphalt confidently this time. He promised himself he wouldn''t take another pitstop, just as he finished his 13th lap in 9th position.


    Lap after lap, Luca pressed harder. The familiar roar of the engine seemed almost a whisper against the chaos in his mind, racing as fast as the tires beneath him. The asphalt blurred as he cut through the turns, his body instinctively leaning into every motion of the car. 8th position, 7th position... yet, the distance between him and the leaders felt insurmountable.


    [Overtaking Skill +2]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    [Stamina +2]


    [Regulate your speed, host. You are still far from the final laps, this is the seventeenth.]


    Luca understood what his System meant, but he was determined not to take any chances. Having completed 17 laps, there were still 17 more of Grey-Husson''s, but he wasn''t certain how many the leaders had completed on their own. "Please tell me I won''t fill up this Sync Bar for some mediocre act," Luca muttered under his breath, his body tilting as he felt a deadly strain coursing through him.


    The blinking Sync Bar in his System interface at the top right had two of its bars filled with green color, and Luca noticed that the more he used skills, the more the percentage increased, ultimately filling the bar at some point.


    [Host, let''s say it is one of the many features of the Formula 1 System that grants you an upper hand.]


    [I am glad to announce you are in 6th Position. Great job!]


    Great job? How about a fantastic job. Do you know how difficult it was to pass that guy? Luca tightened his grip on the steering wheel, trailing behind the driver in 5th position as the next bend approached. He believed it was the perfect moment to cut¡ªnot in, but out. Brake late, cut loose¡ªthat was the plan.


    The moment came, and the 5th position driver cut in just as Luca expected, believing that must be the only way to cover ground.


    Luca had barely blinked, launching his car into the wide gap, tires screeching as the car held firm through the corner. He felt the jolt of acceleration, the engine humming like a beast as the wind whipped violently around him. With his R.S.11 now displayed to the trailing car in 7th position, Luca''s mind had already moved forward¡ªtoward the next single-seater.


    [Position 5 loomed ahead by 2.2 seconds]


    Whoever the driver ahead was, he was skilled¡ªsharp, precise in his movements. But Luca had something else: a hunger, a hunger for lots of things, especially some agreements he had made recently. As he neared the apex of the track, Luca made his move, releasing the tension in his shoulders as he pushed the throttle down.


    His fingers twitched on the wheel, every muscle in his body taut, ready for the inevitable bend of the next corner.


    Ahh, I freaking knew it. It was the Honda again. Luca recognized the blue frame instantly, memories of their last encounter flooding back. "He knows I''m coming again," Luca muttered under his breath, focusing entirely on the car ahead. The gap between them shrank rapidly, and with the next sharp corner approaching, he knew he had to decide: cut in sharply or go wide, just as he had done before.


    Remembering their previous run-in, doubts crept into his mind about cutting in sharply. But this particular bend favored it, leaving him no choice but to drift¡ªhis first-ever drift.


    The bend approached with terrifying speed, and Luca could feel the raw power of the machine beneath him, its weight pressing down on the asphalt. He flicked his wrists and pulled the wheel sharply to the right, sending his car into a controlled drift.


    The tires screamed in protest as they hugged the far edge of the track, nearly kissing the barricade of the stands as he pushed the car beyond its limits.


    Seeing Luca''s attempt, the Honda driver grew frustrated and dove into Luca''s path, trying to block him. But the precarious nature of a drift granted Luca the ability to swerve unpredictably, creating openings that could confuse both the defending driver and those behind. The R.S.11''s rear fishtailed, sliding dangerously close to the red and white edge markers.


    Luca could almost hear the rubber biting into the road, fighting against the inertia.


    His heart raced, the smell of burning rubber filling his nostrils as the G-forces pressed against him. The speedometer in his System interface spiked rapidly, and he tilted the wheel, determined to hold the drift until he could fully embrace the curve. Now, the nose of his car had successfully breached into the Honda driver''s personal space.


    Luca''s tires stopped screeching, the unpleasant sound fading as his drifting came to an end. Hitting the throttle was next, and he sped diagonally before the Honda, momentarily disorienting the driver with his sudden maneuver.


    He emerged from the corner and took in the straightaway, building up speed once more. Luca couldn''t believe it.


    [5th Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    [You are moving at 260 km/h]


    [Would you like to view Data, host? I advice you do so]


    Luca could feel his body strained, every muscle tensed and aching, as though he had been running nonstop for twelve days. It baffled him that something as seemingly simple as sitting in the driver''s seat could be so taxing on the body. Racing at these speeds, with high G-forces pressing him into the seat during turns, was like enduring a full-body workout while being strapped to a rocket.


    His heart pounded in his chest, and sweat trickled down his face as the physical toll of the race began to weigh on him.


    He quickly understood why his System suggested he take a look at his real-time data. Luca wasn''t sure how much longer he could keep up for the rest of the race, and with the final laps of the short race just approaching, he felt an urgency to evaluate his status.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 250 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 140 bpm


    -Operational Status: 70% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Hiked


    -Distance covered: 71100m


    -Time: 28 min. 10 sec ]

 Chapter 20 Ultimatum 3 Picking Up The Pace

    [27th Lap][Stamina +1]


    [Endurance +2]


    The early morning sun began piercing through the veil of clouds, casting a golden hue over the Grey-Husson facility and its booming circuit. The atmosphere was alive with the sound of roaring machinery and engines welcoming the approaching afternoon as the racing participants rounded their 26th lap.


    When Luca had thought the atmosphere wouldn''t be favorable, it turned out to be even more pleasurable.


    Luca was still in 5th position, a spot he had failed to advance from, and now he was barely holding on as the pressure mounted. The gap between him and the relentless pursuit of the 6th and 7th positions was razor-thin, and he could practically sense their presence looming in his rearview mirror.


    Tension filled the air, with everyone aware that the impending 34th lap was drawing nearer; everyone wanted to claim or maintain a spot in the top seven.


    The R.S.11''s engine growled softly beneath Luca as his gaze fixed ahead on the empty track. Numbers 4, 3, 2, and 1 seemed far out of reach and out of sight. Breathing hard, with his physical energy running low, Luca gripped the wheel tightly again as a gesture of concentration and determination, sitting up straighter.


    He braked slightly as he entered the sweeping bend, feeling the familiar G-force slam his body against the seat. His hands trembled from the force, almost letting go of the wheel, but he gritted his teeth and held on.


    [Endurance +1]


    Luca could see the 6th position car dancing in his mirrors, looking for any crack in his defense to overtake, but he was determined not to let that happen. His brows twitched with surprise as he recognized the single-seater instantly. "Harry, the magic man indeed," he said with a chuckle, shaking his head in amusement as he completed the sweeping bend.


    His car leveled out once again, and Luca was free to hit the throttle before Harry could complete the bend behind him. His eyes widened in his helmet as he spotted the number 4 vehicle just ahead, its sleek rear tires running over the asphalt.


    Luca''s fingers danced on the wheel with a mix of tired excitement and tension, his thumbs grazing the buttons as his muscles tensed. Zooming through the 27th lap, he promised himself he''d be in 4th by the 29th.


    He had been here before, chasing down a position just minutes ago, but this time it felt different¡ªhis body was worn, muscles screaming from the relentless strain, yet his focus remained unbroken. The next corner, the signature early bend of the Grey-Husson circuit, approached, and Luca quickly strategized.


    Luca downshifted as they approached the bend, his car screaming in protest, but he held firm. The 4th Position just as he expected, braked slightly earlier, positioning for the perfect bend. Luca, however, had other plans. He kept his foot hovering above the throttle, waiting, waiting¡ªnow. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The moment the 4th position braked, Luca slammed his foot down on the throttle, feeling the car surge forward. His body jolted with the G-force, but he held steady, cutting in just as the number 4 car began to exit the corner. Tires screeched so loud as Luca''s car swung wide, dancing dangerously close to the edge of the track and his opponent''s vehicle, a Renault similar to his.


    [Took a risk, host.]


    [Intelligence +1]


    Luca''s car gently crept ahead of his opponent, who panicked wildly at the sight of his impending loss. They both unleashed a surge of power, and Luca guessed he flicked the overtake button just as he had. Now, with a straightaway ahead, it all depended on who was the better racer between the two of them.


    Enduring G-forces was something Luca was getting accustomed to, not to mention his Overtaking Skill, now sitting at 11. With another burst of power from his R.S.11, Luca surged ahead, leaving the fellow Renault behind, its sleek form filling his mirrors.


    [4th Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used.]


    "Finally, about time," Luca muttered, ramping up his speed as he completed the 28th lap and entered the 29th in 4th position, just as he had promised himself. "So, how does it work?"


    [At completion, you are granted the temporal capability of five minutes to buff all Attributes to max of Rookie Bundle, alongside three Skills]


    "Wow."


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    Without hesitation, Luca selected yes, eager to see how this could enhance his performance in the race.


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 6 ???? 30


    Stamina: 7 ???? 30


    Endurance: 14 ???? 30


    Agility: 4 ???? 30


    Intelligence: 7 ???? 30 ]


    [You have only 3 Skills available, so they are all up for selection.]


    [Reflexes: 12 ???? 50


    Overtaking Skill: 12 ???? 50


    Track Awareness: 9 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 4 min. 58 sec left for Sync Buff]


    "What the¡ª" Luca muttered. His grip on the wheel tightened, his eyes wide with astonishment as the numbers on his floating digital screen lit up, signaling the massive surge in his stats. The System interface took on a new look, with a sleek, glowing design in electric blue and vibrant green. Each attribute flashed boldly, shimmering as they indicated his amplified capabilities.


    Every attribute had skyrocketed, a complete shift in his physical and mental capabilities. His body felt different¡ªlighter, stronger, sharper.


    "Whoa¡­ this is¡ªthis is insane!" he exclaimed, his voice barely audible beneath the roar of R.S.11''s engine. His muscles that had been screaming in protest of exhaustion for the past laps were now completely silent. The burns and aches all gone, his heart steady, the strain on his lungs evaporating as if he hadn''t rounded 28th laps.


    Luca felt as if he could go on for hours, maybe even days, without breaking a sweat!


    "System, this is wonderful!"


    [I am glad you like it, host. However, you have a limited time to make use of Sync Buff. With a new Bundle, that time will increase, so will the amount to fill up the bar accordingly.]


    [You have 4 min. 25 sec left for Sync Buff.]


    Luca nodded quickly, his lips folded as he took in a deep breath. Alright, alright, alright. There are five laps left, and I think I can make use of this to win. I can win.


    He flexed his fingers on the wheel, still astonished at the ease of movement. Every muscle responded instantly, with precision and control that felt almost superhuman. His reflexes were razor-sharp; the world around him seemed to slow down, and every flicker of movement was now crystal clear.


    And the speeding aerodynamic vehicle, brandished with the holographic number 3 hovering above it, didn''t take long to catch his attention. A Renault as well.


    With the 29th lap coming to an end, Luca instinctively pressed harder on the throttle, and the car responded, maxing out at its speed. It was as if his machine had become an extension of his own body, his mind and the vehicle perfectly in sync.


    [You are moving at 300 km/h]


    The Track Awareness buff kicked in, and suddenly, Luca could visualize the race like never before. He knew exactly how to handle the next sharp turn, when to brake, and where to position his car for the impending overtaking to claim third position. The Overtaking Skill flooded his veins like an impulsive whisper, pushing him to execute it at any chance.


    The Renault before him sensed the approaching vehicle and did little to secure his spot. Luca''s approach caught him off guard, and causing an accident was something the driver wanted to avoid.


    It was a fair, respectful overtake; Luca''s R.S.11 swiftly navigated from the side, cutting into the view of what his System had analyzed for him as an R.S.12.


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [3rd Position]


    Luca could taste victory already as he zoomed past the line, completing the 29th lap, with the 30 mark displaying on his screen. He wondered which two cars were ahead; he suspected one of them belonged to Miles. He was certain.


    "While using the Sync Buff, can a new bar load?" Luca asked, his voice steady but curious as he expertly handled the early sharp bend, feeling the incredible surge of power coursing through him.


    [No, host. A new Sync Buff can only be initiated after the current one is fully exhausted. It will begin to recharge immediately once the last has run its course.]


    Luca shrugged, his eyes set on the rear of number 2. I''m fine with that, then. As long as I get this buff regularly, that''s all that matters.


    He expertly shifted gears, timing each one to perfection as he accelerated through the straight, the tires gripping the asphalt beneath him. His feet danced between the throttle and brake, easing off just enough to maintain control while conserving speed.


    The roar of his engine filled his ears, and the G-forces gently pulled at him as he leaned into another bend, closing the gap between him and the 2nd Position.


    Luca could envision himself in an official, booming race circuit¡ªMandalora, Peakburn, or even the Serpeggiare. He could hear a fake commentary in his head, exclaiming and awing at his fluid movements.


    Though he had his Sync Buff, navigating past Position 2 proved to be quite difficult. It took Luca another lap to actually make progress, frightening him that he might not make it to number 1 before time ran out.


    [Stamina +1]


    [30 laps Completed]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 310 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 107 bpm


    -Operational Status: 50% (Concerned)


    -Breathing: Stable


    -Distance covered: 99700m


    -Time: 37 min. 5 sec ]


    With time, Luca''s R.S.11''s nose had reached the bumper of the car in 2nd Position. He took a deep breath and swerved, tilting his wheel in an aerodynamic position opposite to the track, cutting outward. The 2nd Position''s car was a Mercedes, a solid model, and the driver knew how to handle bends.


    With his Sync Buff in full effect, Luca''s senses sharpened, his body reacting faster than ever. His grip on the wheel tightened as he focused on the silver Mercedes ahead. Approaching another bend, Luca knew this was his moment to capitalize; if he hesitated, things might not turn out in his favor.


    He adjusted his stance in the cockpit, leaning instinctively as the car''s tires kissed the edge of the track, the stands blurring in his peripheral vision. With a quick flick of the wheel, he sent his car zigzagging outward, carving an aggressive line that surprised the driver in 2nd Position.


    The driver in 2nd Position held firm with determination as Luca raced almost neck and neck, just slightly behind. His eyes narrowed, sighting a curve as they raced with blinding speed. On that curve was the leading number 1, cruising effortlessly.


    Luca feathered the throttle before slamming down hard, propelling himself forward just as the Mercedes began to ease into the curve. With the Sync Buff, Luca could easily maneuver through bends without reducing his speed much. In one fluid motion, he swung the car wide, brushing the outer edge of the track.


    The R.S.11 soared past the Mercedes, its engine screaming as Luca expertly drifted through the corner, the rear tires leaving a faint smoke trail behind. "Booyah!" he jubilated, leveling his car once again.


    The now 3rd Position couldn''t do anything, but watch as Luca''s Renault sliced ahead, taking the inside line through the bend with unbelievable precision. The extra driver was now the exceptional.


    The wind roared around Luca as he fully overtook the Mercedes behind him, completing the 31st lap without breaking a sweat. He momentarily shifted his focus to the System screen before him, the position indicator flashing.


    [2nd Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [Agility +1]


    Luca took a deep breath. It was mind-blowing to know that he was one of the leaders in the race. He wished his mother were here to witness this, sitting in the stands and cheering for him.


    But Luca was not going to settle for 2nd Position, no, he would not. Not when there were many things attached to emerging first, and beating Miles was one of them. Biting his lips, he savored the sight of Miles''s Mercedes, sizing it like a prey.


    [You have 1 min. 59 sec left for Sync Buff]


    "Ahhh, fuck me. Please stay with me, stay with me," Luca muttered, making a careful turn to the edge before diverting to the inside line again. He steadied his fingers, feeling his hands damp in his gloves.


    The 31st lap was approaching its end, and the tension was building. All the cars behind him danced in harmony on the track, searching for opportunities to overtake and claim a spot in the top 7, top 3, or simply maintain their positions.


    On the start of the 32nd lap, Luca''s System analyzed Miles''s Mercedes to be 1.4 sec away, and Luca was determined to use the early approaching bend to his advantage.


    [Intelligence +1]


    [Track Awareness +1]


    He hit throttle hard once again, pleading with his tires to withstand the strain he had exerted on them. Determined to overtake Miles without him knowing what hit him, Luca swerved early, his tires grazing the caution zone as he yielded to the bend early enough just as Miles, in his preferred turning zone, began to navigate the curve.


    Still accelerating while turning, Luca closed the gap rapidly, surprising even himself.


    [You are moving at 350 km/h]


    [Operational Status is dropping.]


    "I know, let''s finish this quickly," Luca replied, the roar of the R.S.11''s engine startling Miles.


    Miles was now fully alert, realizing Luca''s Renault was somehow closing in behind him. He sat up in his cockpit, leaning on the wheel to speed and navigate. This was enough to keep Luca at bay for another lap, but just as they reached the midway point of the 33rd lap, it seemed inevitable to Miles: Luca would catch up soon.


    ¡¤¡¤


    A/N: Updates would come everyday now. (+_+) Support with your Powerstones And Golden Tickets, I managed to contract this work. Let''s have a marathon reading, shall we?

 Chapter 21 Ultimatum 3

    Pushing his R.S.11 to its absolute limits, Luca''s car roared as it surged forward, bringing him neck and neck with Miles. Every muscle in Luca''s body tensed as the Sync Buff pulsed through him, sharpening his reflexes and focus. He knew he had to finish the race before his temporary power boost expired, or risk falling behind in the final laps.As Luca''s sleek black-and-red Renault emerged beside Miles'' vibrant purple-and-green Mercedes, the disbelief in Miles'' body language was unmistakable. How could this be happening? He had dominated the race up until now, and yet here was Luca, the extra participant, the failure he always knew, challenging him head-on for the lead.


    Miles glanced over, his knuckles tightening on the wheel. How could someone who had barely made it into the academy, who had cunningly found his way in through a deal, catch up like this? He gritted his teeth, refusing to be overtaken. But Luca had other plans.


    Luca had the urge to nudge Miles, but he knew better than to risk such a move. Instead, he searched for a way to frustrate Miles further, realizing that only winning would truly sting.


    [You have 30 sec left for Sync Buff]


    "Oh, no no no," Luca groaned in dismay, turning with Miles as they raced side by side. He had close to two minutes left for the race to end, and the Sync Buff would definitely not last.


    Glancing at his opponent, Luca caught Miles shaking his head¡ªa gesture to signal that his attempt wouldn''t succeed. Luca instinctively waved him off and refocused on the track ahead. He could already feel the Sync Buff slipping away, just as the race reached its critical moment, leaving him at the moment of truth.


    [Stamina +1]


    [Sync Buff has elapsed!]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 0%]


    "Ah noo!" Luca bellowed as he and Miles entered the 33rd lap. Miles was slightly ahead, with Luca''s Renault just inches behind. If things stayed this way, Luca feared he might end up being the bridesmaid of this race.


    The roar of the engines echoed across the track as they stormed into the final lap, the 34th and decisive one. With his Sync Buff now completely gone, Luca tightened his grip on the wheel. Every bend became a challenge, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath quickening.


    Pushing his R.S.11 to its absolute limits, Luca was determined to close the gap and surpass the superior stats of Miles'' Mercedes AMG-F1.


    Narrowing his eyes, Luca felt them grow watery for some reason, and his body was now being battered vigorously by the G-forces now the Sync Buff was gone. He forced himself to remain sharp, alert and more cautious as he guided his car to weave through the bends with Miles, stalking the Mercedes.


    Hitting the throttle when necessary, Luca was not just a threat in Miles''s mirrors¡ªhe was closing in fast, right on his rival''s tail as they approached the last lap''s final stretch.


    The fact that he had made it into the selectable seven brought a momentary flicker of joy, but Luca''s focus remained on the real goal. Muttering under his breath, he recognized the final series of turns.


    [You are moving at 300 km/h]


    Luca''s mind raced, but not as fast as the world blurring around him. His thoughts were slipping into chaos. Just race, boy he told himself, flicking the wheel with laser focus.


    His Renault''s nose cut in alongside Miles'' Mercedes as they shot into a bend, tires screaming loud enough to pierce through the roaring engines. Rounding the corner, Luca knew he''d leveled with Miles, their cars nearly scraping against each other. He caught the disbelief in Miles'' body language¡ªthe older racer was desperately trying to close the curve''s gap. Luca smirked inwardly.


    It would be foolish not to capitalize on the moment. His Renault surged ahead as they both shot out of the bend, barreling into the final straight like bullets fired from the same barrel.


    [Final straightway, host]


    Luca slammed the throttle again, the G-forces slamming him back into his seat so hard he almost choked on air. But Miles wasn''t backing down. His Mercedes leapt forward, keeping pace as the two rocketed toward the unseen finish. There might not be a checkered flag at this facility, but everyone watching knew this was the climax.


    Luca leaned in closer, gripping the wheel with every bit of strength he had left, hoping the sheer pressure of his body might coax his R.S.11 into gaining that final edge. He wasn''t a mathematician, but anyone watching the race unfold would see the same¡ªthere was no clear winner yet. He and Miles were neck and neck, an equal sign drawn between them.


    [You might breakdown, host]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 310 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 130 bpm


    -Operational Status: 30% (Poor)


    -Breathing: Hiked


    -Distance covered: 130700m


    -Time: 44 min. 20 sec ]


    The horn blared.


    Luca''s heart pounded as he decelerated, his body slumping with exhaustion. He let go of the wheel, his hands trembling from the effort. Both cars had crossed the finish line at nearly the exact same moment, and Luca couldn''t tell who had won. Glancing over, he saw Miles pulling up in his Mercedes, equally worn out, his expression of the result uncertain as well.


    "Please, give me good news, System," Luca muttered, feeling suffocated in his helmet, his whole body aching.


    [Congratulations! You have won a race!]


    "I¡ªI won it?"


    [Yes, host.]


    [1st Position] flashed jubilantly on the System''s interface before him.


    I won?! Thank goodness! Thank goodness!


    [Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!]


    [You have been rewarded with (EXP)!


    -Strength +2


    -Stamina +2


    -Endurance +2


    -Agility +2


    -Intelligence +2


    -Reflexes +3


    -Overtaking Skill +3


    -Track Awareness +3 ]


    Wow! Wonderful! I can''t believe it.


    Luca pushed open his canopy, the afternoon sun flooding into the cockpit of his R.S.11 as the familiar scent of burnt rubber filled the air. Exhausted but victorious, he hopped off his car with numb legs, the adrenaline wearing off. He glanced around as the other racers finished, the engines zooming down the track in succession.


    Luca hopped off his car with the little strength he could muster, his legs feeling numb from the strain of the race. The roar of engines still echoed across the wide track as the other racers finished in sequence, their machines tearing through the final stretch.


    Removing his helmet, Luca ran a hand through his damp hair and began walking toward the stands where the officials gathered, a confident smile plastered on his face.


    It seemed they were all contemplating who had won between Luca and Miles, and only a review of the footage would give the answer.


    Luca spotted Mallow, who had his fists clenched in anticipation, and his head nodding slowly. He smiled back at Luca with a brief thumbs up.


    Luca couldn''t wait for his name to be called as the winner. He couldn''t even believe he was able to pull this off. His legs weighing him down, Luca decided to rest on the frame of his car as they awaited the announcement from the glass room high up, next to the big TV.


    After some minutes, the tension being palpable, murmurs and chatter erupting here and there, the announcement was finally made, and Luca''s smile was replaced with a frown immediately. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And 1st Position was attained by Miles Bellingham!" A staff announced.


    Luca''s heart sank deep as the words resonated in his ears. He delved into subconsciousness as Miles began his celebration, dancing with his girlfriend and friends.


    System, I¡ªI thought you said I won?


    [Indeed, host. You claimed the 1st Position.]


    So, what is this?


    [I do not know, host. Your R.S.11 had crossed the line 0.001 seconds before the Mercedes AMG-F1.]


    [I don''t think there is a mode that claims 2nd Position as 1st.]


    ------------------------


    Mallow walked up the stairs to the glass room after everyone had retreated into the main building. The selectable seven had been called out, and the rest were told to leave through the gates. Luckily for Mallow, both his clients had made it into the top: Harry finishing 6th, and Luca finishing 1st.


    Yes, Mallow was certain Luca''s Renault had crossed the line first. He didn''t have any solid evidence, nor was he entirely sure, but his instincts screamed it was true, and he was determined to verify it himself.


    The telemetry room''s door was open, and Mallow stepped in. Inside stood Mr. Schafer, Sir Grimwald, and several other staff members. Mr. Payet, Miles Bellingham''s agent, was also present, dressed impeccably in a black suit, standing off to the side.


    "Mr. Mallow? What brings you here?" Sir Grimwald asked, folding his arms, his tone flat but inquisitive.


    "I mean no trouble," Mallow began firmly. "I just ask to see the photo finish for myself. Agents are granted that privilege, correct?"


    The room fell silent for a few moments, the air thick with tension. Mr. Schafer slowly sank into a chair, rubbing his temple as though warding off a headache. His expression, like the room''s atmosphere, was uneasy.


    Mallow could feel the weight of his words hang heavily. Glancing around, he noticed a monitor beside Grimwald, who subtly shifted to block his view.


    "Let me save you the trouble, Mr. Mallow," Grimwald finally said, his tone measured. "Yes, your agent finished first. And his," he gestured toward Mr. Payet, "finished second."


    A pregnant pause filled the air before Grimwald added, "But that information stays in this room. As far as everyone knows, Miles Bellingham finished first in this year''s Grey-Husson Academy program."


    Mr. Mallow''s face flashed with disbelief, his mouth hanging open as the weight of corruption hit him. He couldn''t believe such blatant manipulation was happening, even in something as supposedly straightforward as an academy race. Swallowing hard, he managed to ask, "Why? Is it about money? Were you paid?"


    "No, Mr. Mallow. It''s because it''s the right thing to do," Sir Grimwald replied, his expression smug. "Miles Bellingham finished almost at the same time¡ªmere milliseconds apart, in fact. Why get bogged down by such tiny details when we can just crown him?"


    "No, you can''t," Mallow shot back, his voice rising in defiance. "That''s not racing. Why not crown the actual winner?"


    Grimwald chuckled, his posture relaxed as he unfolded his arms and nonchalantly clicked the spacebar on the keyboard. "That boy? I''m sorry, Mr. Mallow, but your client doesn''t fit the image to be the face of Grey-Husson for a year. We need someone who''s outspoken, handsome, good with the media. And Miles ticks all those boxes.


    Your client...doesn''t."


    Mallow''s mouth formed an incredulous "O" as he fully grasped what was happening. His face darkened with frustration. "So, this is what it''s come to? Just business? Mr. Schafer, you''re okay with this?


    As a former Team Principal yourself, you''re allowing this farce? This should be an atrocity in your ol'' eyes," Mallow thundered. He knew he could do nothing about this, it was their management.


    Schafer sat quietly, avoiding Mallow''s gaze. Sir Grimwald didn''t offer any further response, standing there as if the conversation had already ended.


    "If there''s nothing more you''d like to say, Mr. Mallow," Schafer finally spoke, his tone weary and detached, "please leave."


    Mallow spat on the floor in disgust, muttering curses under his breath as he stormed out of the room.

 Chapter 22 One Big Step Closer

    It was 8 p.m. in the Grey-Husson facility, and everyone was ready to retire for the night after a long, exhausting day. Luca had eaten a large meal that still adhered to his strict diet and then indulged in a long, hot shower, reflecting on the day''s events.After drying off, Luca entered the room he shared with Harry, who was waiting for his turn in the shower. Luca dressed in his nightwear and collapsed onto his bed, crossing his legs as he stared at the ceiling.


    The sound of Harry''s shower, the steady rhythm of water hitting the tiles, played in the background while Luca drifted deeper into his thoughts. "System display," Luca suddenly commanded, his voice low and tired. "Show me my Status¡ªfocus on Physical Information and my skills," he added.


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 71kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 11%


    Muscle Mass: 33%


    Strength: 8


    Stamina: 11


    Endurance: 16


    Agility: 7


    Intelligence: 10 ]


    Luca nodded his head, his lips folded as he took in the figures. He was glad that he had made significant progress and was determined to make even more.


    [Skills & Techniques: (Current skills and techniques are given to you by default) Total Grade - D


    Reflexes: 16


    Overtaking Skill: 17


    Track Awareness: 13


    Others (Locked) ]


    "System, what do you say? How am I doing?"


    [You are doing wonderfully well, host. Your graph seems exceptionally promising]


    That''s nice to hear, Luca thought as he rolled over and picked up the telephone on his nightstand. It was finally time to call his mother, knowing it was assured now he wouldn''t see her until fate decided otherwise. Now that he had made it into the selectable seven, all he had to do was wait for offers from the scouts, and soon he''d find himself signing a contract.


    The phone call stretched on, just like Harry''s endless bath. Mrs. Rennick wasn''t eager to drop the receiver, and neither was Sophia, who insisted on speaking to Luca alone.


    But their voices, once comforting, now felt like they were draining him. He hurried the call along, cutting it shorter than his mother would have liked, and finally, the line went silent.


    Moments later, a knock echoed from the door, and Luca called the person in. Mallow stepped into the dim room, still in his navy blue tracksuit.


    His eyes briefly skimmed the room¡ªthe clutter on Harry''s side contrasting with the neatness of Luca''s¡ªbefore he crossed over toward Luca''s bed. "How''s the body holding up? Tough day, huh?"


    "I swear," Luca muttered with a soft chuckle, blinking away sleep as he yawned. "Thirty-four laps is no child''s play."


    "Sure isn''t," Mallow agreed, placing a foot on the stool next to Luca''s bed. He leaned on his knee, peering at the tired brown-haired boy. "And winning a thirty-four-lap race isn''t a child''s play either."


    Luca rubbed his eyes and glanced at Mallow''s shadowed face. "Wait, you think I got first place?" he asked.


    "I know you got first place, kiddo. They could rig it however they want, but the truth will always come out," Mallow said with a shrug. "Just don''t dwell on it. You''ll encounter similar challenges in the world of business and Formula 1 racing. As we said, none of this is child''s play."


    Fucking tyrants, Luca cursed inwardly. I knew they were aware I finished first. Why would they do it, heh?!


    "Sure, sure," Luca muttered, feigning understanding. "I could have taken it if I''d noticed that not all the cars had the same potential. Did you know that?"


    Mallow was taken aback, his brows furrowing in confusion and surprise. He had assumed that all the single-seaters were selected based on an average performance level, preferably, the same model just like the F2 division. "I definitely did not. And even with this, you still emerged number one..." S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca chuckled softly, the drowsiness of sleep making him feel slightly drunk and delirious.


    Mallow leaned in closer, lowering his voice as he studied Luca''s brown hair again. "I see the way you race, son. You''re a natural, you''re magnificent, and you''re bursting with potential," he said quietly. "By any chance, is your last name ''Rennick'' the same as the ''Rennick'' I know? Aldo Rennick?"


    Luca nodded casually. "Yes, my father was Aldo Rennick. You must know him; he was a very good F1 racer," he replied.


    Mallow shook his head in disbelief. There was no way Aldo Rennick''s son could be Luca, right? Aldo Rennick was incredibly good then and wealthy; how could his son be struggling to break into the business? "Shouldn''t you have had a million-dollar inheritance? What about your mother? She should..." Mallow protested.


    "How can Aldo Rennick''s family be living in an apartment?!"


    Luca shrugged, brushing his feet as he sank deeper into bed. "I dunno, do you know? I guess no one really recognized his family after his death. Gradually, we became poor," he said.


    Mallow shook his head, still unable to comprehend the situation. He pondered for a moment and concluded that no one could have simply overlooked them. "Your father''s agents did a terrible job, or they deliberately hoarded funds away from you and your family."


    Luca fell silent, Mallow''s words sinking in and weighing on his mind. Remembering what Mallow had said about the results today, he chuckled ironically. "If that was the case, I wouldn''t be surprised," he finally said after a pause.


    Mallow studied the boy for a moment before taking his foot off the stool. He promised himself he would look into this. "How long will Harry take in that bathroom?! Come out, Harry! I want to tell you lads somethin''!"


    Luca''s gaze dropped to Mallow''s silhouette. "Tell us what, sir?"


    "Well, your hard work has paid off, Luca. We''ve received offers for both of you."


    Luca shot up from the bed immediately, his heart racing. "Are you serious, sir?" he asked, disbelief clear in his voice.


    "Yes, I am. We have four Formula 2 teams ready to offer good and swift deals for you and Mr. Shower over there," Mallow said proudly. "Tomorrow, we''ll meet with them to discuss the next steps to take.


    Luca''s mind reeled with possibilities, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his excitement grew. "I¡ªI don''t even know what to say," he muttered, barely able to contain his joy.


    Mallow stood upright, sliding a piece of paper into the pocket of his tracksuit. "Just go to bed, kiddo. You''ve accomplished something today that I could never imagine doing. Sleep and let your body rest. I''ll come for you boys early in the morning."


    Luca nodded, his gaze drifting into nothingness as he settled back onto the pillow. He mumbled a goodnight to Mallow, who pounded on the shower door before leaving the room.


    I will become a racer?! Formula 2 teams?! Coming for me?! Hehe!


    Despite the fatigue screaming through his muscles and the heaviness in his eyelids, Luca couldn''t sleep. He couldn''t shake the excitement coursing through him; he was another step closer to achieving his dream of becoming a successful motorsport racer.


    ¡¤¡¤


    A/N: Character art is now available.

 Chapter 23 Signing On The Dotted Line

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...][Host should begin his Daily Routine]


    Luca finished his Daily Routine in the facility''s gym as quick as ever, his body adapting to the strain he put it through every day, and he found pleasure going over the same set of exercises. His System told him that, however, once he levels up to the Intermediate Bundle, his Daily Routine would change.


    The silence was unbearable in the facility, even as Luca made his way to the simulation room to practice in a virtual cockpit, since there was no race to be held. He had already eaten breakfast, taken a shower, and now found himself walking toward the simulation room.


    Two of the selectable seven were there, fully engrossed in their simulations and unaware of his presence. A staff member nearby helped Luca set up a cockpit for his session.


    Luca simulated for a while, determined to keep his senses sharp and maintain his awareness of the motor and track dynamics. After an hour of simulation, he emerged sixth twice and fourth in his third race. He figured that was enough mental training for the day and decided to head back to his quarters to wait for Mallow, his agent, to take him and Harry to meet with the scouts.


    As he left the simulation room, Luca rubbed his tired eyes while walking down the hallway. Distracted, he almost bumped into someone, cursing himself under his breath. Still rubbing his eyes, Luca glanced and immediately recognized the person standing before him. He groaned internally, filled with disdain, but mumbled an apology and tried to walk away. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You really thought you''d win, Luca?" the girl sneered, brushing herself off as if he''d somehow contaminated her when he didn''t even make contact. "Why the sour face? You should be grateful you even completed the race."


    The girl was Hanna¡ªsomeone Luca knew all too well. In fact, she had been his first and only girlfriend during school. The relationship had ended the moment he discovered her cheating on him with none other than the wealthy and "magnificent" Miles Bellingham. Luca still couldn''t understand why some girls felt the need to juggle two or more boys, exploiting them for different privileges.


    In Hanna''s case, she admittedly said it was simply about having fun, keeping her affair with Miles hidden from Luca for as long as she could.


    "Miles is gonna be the face of Grey-Husson''s, and he''ll get an endorsement instantly. As usual, his signing is guaranteed into a junior F1 team in F2," Hanna continued with a smirk. "Well, you... you made the seven at least."


    Luca shrugged, resisting the urge to rub his irritated eyes. His anger about the situation had long faded, replaced with indifference. All he felt toward Hanna now was a void. "I didn''t just make the seven. If you say it right, I... actually made a podium," he muttered, turning and walking away before she could finish her gloating.


    He heard her muttering something under her breath as he twisted the doorknob to his room and entered. Inside, Mallow was casually chatting with Harry, and both of them looked up when Luca walked in. A broad smile stretched across Mallow''s face.


    "Alright, boys. Let''s get on with this, shall we?" Mallow said enthusiastically.


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Mallow led Harry and Luca out of their room and down the hallway. They exited through the back door of the main building, entering a part of the facility Luca had never been to before.


    The trio walked along a concrete path bordered by ornamental plants that gleamed under the soft morning sun. They approached an open door to the side of another building, where Luca noticed a familiar figure standing on the steps. The man''s stubbled beard and fierce, cold gaze behind his glasses were unmistakable.


    As they neared, Luca''s voice dropped with suspicion and irritation. "What is he doing here?"


    "Luca, don''t speak to Mr. Vance like that," Mallow cautioned, giving Vance a respectful nod. "He flew in last night after hearing you made the top three."


    Obviously. Luca''s eyes locked on Vance, a deep-seated hatred simmering within him. Now that you''ve seen my potential, you come to take credit? "I thought you said you alone were my agent?" Luca questioned Mallow, his gaze fixed on Vance''s sneer. "So why is this tyrant here? How''s your tongue?


    What happened to licking the hot asphalt than letting me¡ª"


    "Shut up, punk," Vance cut in with a disdainful look. "You talk too much, and if you keep it up, I''ll cancel every ounce of progress you''ve made. You''re here because I allowed it. Until you sign a contract with a team, you, Harry, and even Mallow are under my control," he growled, his eyes narrowing. "Now get in here, you little shit, and let me see how much I can make from you."


    Luca''s heart pounded with rage. His fists clenched tightly, and his instinct was to lash out, but he thought better of it. Mallow gave him a reassuring nudge, and with a deep breath, Luca shoved past Vance and entered inside.


    The interior of the room had a slightly formal air, with rows of desks symmetrically arranged, giving the space an orderly feel. Luca noticed a few men, whom he quickly identified as scouts, sitting at the far end, across from another desk that seemed to be reserved for them.


    Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the polished tiles beneath his feet, casting a soft, warm glow that provided a faint sense of comfort as he sat down at their desk.


    Luca had walked in expecting to sign contracts, but instead, the hours seemed filled with endless discussions between Mr. Vance and the scouts. Through snippets of conversation, Luca gathered that the teams interested in him and Harry were QR Racing, Ultra Pix, OLAC, and Trampos Racing.


    Though he had harbored a passion for motorsports for a good part of his life, these names didn''t stir any recognition in him, and it left him feeling somewhat unanchored. He later found out they were F2 teams searching for good racers for better competition this coming season.


    As the minutes dragged on, Luca grew frustrated for not participating in the discussions that would lead to his potentially first team. He leaned over to Mallow, lowering his voice, "Sir, shouldn''t I be the one choosing the team myself... right?"


    Mallow shook his head slowly. "Mr. Vance will select the team that benefits him first. You''ll only make the final choice when it''s in his interest for you to do so. That''s how it''s always been."


    Luca scoffed. Of course. And his final choice will be money, won''t it? What if the team with the bigger money don''t see my potential and just toss me to the side? Luca didn''t like the sound of a team being selected for him, but he had to accept for he was the aspirer here.


    After what felt like an eternity of negotiations, it seemed that Mr. Vance had finally reached a conclusion. His face brightened with a satisfied smile as he approached Luca and Harry, placing two hefty documents on the desk in front of them. "Read the details carefully," he instructed, tapping the papers lightly.


    TEAM: TRAMPOS RACING


    Duration of Contract: 2 years, with the option for a 1-year extension based on performance.


    Salary: €50,000 ($53,500) with Performance Bonuses


    Termination Clause: The contract will be terminated if your client fails to secure a top 5 finish within his first three races.


    Luca couldn''t believe his eyes. $53,500 salary?! That is huge... isn''t it? He questioned himself, glancing back at the figure on the contract. It is a lot, right?


    But then his eyes caught the termination clause, and his excitement faltered. Top 5 within his first three races? That was a steep expectation, and Luca wasn''t sure he could meet it.


    He looked up at Mr. Vance, contemplating asking for a different offer, maybe something less demanding. But it was clear from Vance''s expression that this was the deal on the table, no room for negotiation. Reluctantly, Luca realized he had no other option but to accept the offer to drive and race for Trampos Racing.


    With a resigned nod, he signaled his acceptance to the Trampos Racing scout, acknowledging that this would be his team. He shot a glance at Harry, who was handed an OLAC proposal and had already accepted it. Luca had hoped they''d end up on the same team, but fate had placed them on different paths.


    Mr. Vance and the scouts from OLAC and Trampos Racing shook hands, motioning for Harry and Luca to do the same. Luca stood up, gripping the outstretched hand firmly, trying to maintain a confident smile despite his lingering thoughts.


    "Wonderful boy you are," one of the scouts said with enthusiasm. "We''ll see you in Germany, then."


    Luca smiled instinctively and responded, "Of course, sir," as he released the handshake.


    Once they stepped outside, Mr. Vance led them to the door for the next group of agents and their clients to enter. As soon as they were out, he slapped Luca hard on the back, startling him.


    "I''m done with you, you little scalawag," Vance hissed, his tone half-teasing, half-serious. However, Luca termed it serious. "Try not to crash on the track one day, heh? I''ll try my best to watch your feeder races."


    Luca wore a deep frown as he watched Mr. Vance walk away down the path. Once the man had disappeared from view, he turned to Mallow, recalling the scout''s earlier comment. "Trampos Racing isn''t in the UK?" he asked.


    Mr. Mallow smiled amusingly as if he did not expect such a question. He tucked his hands into his pockets and began walking down the path. "Of course it isn''t. We''re headed to Germany, kiddo. That''ll be your home now¡ªand mine as well."

 Chapter 24 Signing On The Dotted Line 2 Trampos Racing

    Packing up was easy for Luca¡ªhe only had one bag. But his mind was anything but settled. Thoughts raced wildly, and Harry''s non-stop chatter faded into the background as Luca tried to process everything. He still couldn''t quite believe it¡ªhe wasn''t just leaving town; he was leaving the country. A month ago, he never would have imagined something like this.Now, he was on the verge of becoming an official F2 racer, with the dream of F1 looming on the horizon.


    Fortunately, thanks to the influence of Grey-Husson and the F2 teams, they were able to secure a flight for the same day. An evening flight had been available, which was perfect timing.


    After packing, Luca sat on the edge of his bed, lost in thought, only half-listening to Harry, who was buzzing with excitement. And why wouldn''t he be? His offer had listed a salary of $50,500¡ªclose to Luca''s. That was a crazy amount of money for someone their age to make per year.


    Luca wondered what his life would be like after this. Traveling from country to country, racing at different circuits¡ªit would be a whirlwind. And he had his System to guide him through it all. He chuckled to himself. God bless the car that hit me. It had been a strange stroke of fate that brought him here.


    In fact, I did well by stepping close to the track, he muttered in his mind.


    His gaze drifted toward the window, where SUVs were parked outside, and scouts and team officials were making their exit. The 14-day course had officially come to an end. Most of the single-seaters would either be stored or refurbished, though a few were heading out for personal use.


    As promised, Miles Bellingham''s face was now prominently displayed on the fourth stand of the circuit¡ªhis smug smile beaming beneath a white racing suit.


    Even though Luca''s System assured him he had won, he still wished for a more public acknowledgment of his victory. Sure, the level-up was all that truly mattered for his progress, but it would have been cool to have his face brandished on the stands instead of Miles Bellingham''s. That nagging feeling of incompleteness lingered, especially when it came to Isabella.


    Luca felt embarrassed even thinking about asking her for her number, knowing the chances of seeing her again were slim. If he had truly "won," maybe Mr. Schafer would endorse him, and Isabella would become a regular fixture in his new racing life.


    He sighed, glancing at the telephone on the bedside table, debating whether to call his mom. She was probably at work, but he knew she''d scream with excitement when she heard about the figures he had been offered. But the thought quickly faded¡ªhe didn''t even have the money in his account yet... if he had an account.


    Luca groaned inwardly, realizing just how much he had to figure out about being an adult and a professional racer.


    By 4 p.m., evening approached quickly, and a knock at their door signaled that it was time to go.


    Outside, three cabs waited by the fountain, ready to take the seven select racers who had completed the course. Luca tried to act like he didn''t care, but he had heard that Miles had arranged for a more prestigious form of transport. These taxis, it seemed, were for the rest of them.


    With their bags loaded, Luca and Harry slumped into the backseat of one of the taxis, while Mallow took the passenger seat. The cab''s engine hummed to life, its tires kicking up a light spray of dust as they rounded the beautiful courthouse and headed toward the gate.


    Harry quickly pulled out his Game Boy, eyes glued to the screen. Luca, having none, simply stared out the window, watching the scenery blur by. It felt like hours before they finally arrived at the same airport he had flown into from London. Stepping out of the taxi, the weight of this new chapter in his life settled in, heavier than his luggage.


    Mallow had made it clear during the taxi ride that Luca and Harry would be flying solo. He had some arrangements to handle and wouldn''t be on their flight, but promised he''d arrive early the next morning for the contract signing. Luca felt his stomach twitch after that, the thought of flying alone bothered him.


    "I think this is it, right?" Harry said with his arms apart once they made it to the airport, the bustling activity behind them.


    Luca chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, next time I see you, it''ll be on the track¡ªon opposite sides," he said with a grin, exchanging a firm handshake and a shoulder nudge with Harry. Harry''s destination was Spain, a world away from Luca''s team in Germany.


    "I''ll see you brother."


    "Same."


    Luca watched as Harry walked off toward another terminal, one bag slung over his shoulder. Mallow had handed them both a detailed sheet of paper with step-by-step instructions on what to do once they arrived.


    "Don''t get lost, Luca. You''re eighteen," Mallow said with a thumbs up, as if he had done something like this before.


    Luca shivered a little as he boarded his flight. The sky had deepened to a midnight blue, the plane''s soft ambient lighting giving the cabin a calming glow. Once they were airborne, Luca couldn''t help but nod off to sleep, the exhaustion of the day catching up to him.


    "Cab, Kreuzberg, Oranienstra?e, motel," Luca mumbled, staring at the paper Mallow gave him after he woke. He tucked the paper back into his pocket as the plane touched down smoothly.


    A cab was easy to find, and Luca was relieved that the driver understood English well. The ride to the district Mallow had directed him to seemed long, though he wasn''t sure if it was the constant drifting in and out of sleep that made it feel that way.


    His tired eyes couldn''t offer him a proper view of Germany, especially in the darkness. The warm glow of the streetlights flickered across his face as they approached Oranienstra?e. When they arrived, Luca handed the driver some of his own currency, unsure if it would be accepted. To his surprise, the grubby man took it without hesitation, wishing him a goodnight in a thick German accent.


    Luca stood in the middle of the quiet street, eyes fixed on the only building nearby. He glanced left and right instinctively, even though the road was empty, before crossing to the other side and heading toward the property.


    He felt a pang of uncertainty. Mallow hadn''t even given him a key, and Luca wasn''t sure if the motel was already paid for. For a few minutes, he stood there, feeling like a lost traveler. Just as he was contemplating his next move, a door of the motel creaked open, and an elderly woman appeared.


    She moved slowly toward Luca, her posture hunched, and silently handed him a key, pointing at one of the doors without saying a word.


    Luca quickly put in a "thank you" as loud and as polite as he could. Clutching the key, he made his way to the door she had indicated and unlocked it.


    The door creaked open into a pitch-dark room. Luca fumbled for the light switch, shutting the door behind him to block out the faint hum of a generator outside.


    Flick


    The lighting was dim, but visibly enough for a small room. It had a single bed with rough looking but clean sheets, a wooden desk and a stool, finished by thin curtains. The only decor was a single framed picture of a German countryside. "Smells kinda like vinegar," he muttered, dropping onto the bed.


    To his surprise, the bed was soft, and the pillow even softer. He kept telling himself to undress and unpack better, but sleep overtook him almost immediately, pulling him into a deep slumber as his eyes shut.


    --------------------------------------------------------


    Bam Bam Bam


    The knock on Luca''s door reverberated through the small room, jolting him awake at 7 am. The Formula 1 System had already suspended today''s Daily Routine, likely sensing the change of location and the absence of a nearby gym. Luca had been savoring every second of his sleep, but the relentless knocking snapped him back to reality.


    Groggily, he wiped the drool from his lips and shuffled to the door. When he opened it, Mallow stood before him, accompanied by a blonde woman Luca recognized but couldn''t place immediately.


    "Are you ready for today, Luca?" Mallow''s voice cut through the sleepy atmosphere as he marched inside, followed closely by the woman. She was Sara, Mr. Vance''s now former secretary.


    "Good morning," Luca greeted them both, rubbing his eyes as he shut the door behind them. "I''m ready¡ªwell, almost. Just need to actually get ready." He paused, eyeing Sara curiously, tall, fair and blonde, dressed in a sharp black blouse. "What''s she doing so far here?"


    "Sara Tadheart will be your personal manager and assistant. I''m sure you understand what that means," Mallow said, introducing her formally.


    "I''m glad to take this job, Luca. I''ll handle and satisfy all your personal needs exceptionally," Sara said with a firm nod and a confident smile.


    "Oh," Luca muttered, still processing. "That''s... nice. Thank you. I''ll try to keep you in the loop with my plans."


    Mallow clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly as he glanced out the window toward the car he had arrived in. "Get dressed, kiddo," he said.


    ------------------------------------------


    Soft murmur of voices hummed in the background of the room, punctuated by the relentless clicking of cameras. Bright flashes of light flickered against the high table where Luca''s contract rested, the emblem of the sponsors of Trampos Racing designed on white curtains behind the seats.


    Once Luca and Mallow entered the room, the murmur grew louder, buzzing with anticipation. All eyes turned to him, the atmosphere thickening. Luca approached the table, where the Trampos Racing President, Ralf Fisher, the team principal, Lucas Grant, and the head of engineering, Sandra Moritz were standing.


    He gave each of them firm handshakes, the constant popping of cameras slightly disorienting him.


    Mallow shook them as well with smiles as Luca sat down, the sleek chair squeaking slightly beneath him. The contract was spread across the polished surface of the table, with a pen next to it. Luca grasped the pen and studied the details of the contract, although it had already been stated before.


    He looked up at the key figures of the team he was about signing into. The team principal, Lucas Grant bothered him with his stern eyes as if sizing his potential in the team. Luca shifted his gaze to Mallow, who casually took a seat next to him. Mallow nodded assuringly and motioned he continue.


    Alright.


    Luca hovered the pen over the signature line, feeling the weight of the moment. In one fluid motion, he pressed the nib to the paper, signing his name in bold, black ink. He had literally made up a signature there and then.


    Immediately, Mr. Fisher slid the contract toward himself and finalized the contract by sealing it with his own signature. He motioned for Luca''s hand, and Luca stood up instinctively, accepting the handshake. "Welcome to the team," he said approvingly with a gruff tone.


    "Thank you," Luca replied with a smile, turning his face to the cameras as the room erupted with bright flashes.


    After a series of handshakes, Luca and Mallow stood with the Trampos Racing management for press pictures. Luca couldn''t believe this was happening to him right now. His eyes were almost blinded by the camera flashes as he forced himself to maintain his smile.


    [Ding!]


    [Mission Completed!]


    [Host has attained his first professional contract.]


    [Ding!]


    [System Unlocking Activity Panel...]


    [Activity Panel Unlocked]


    [System Commencement In Progress...]


    [System Activity Commenced!]


    [Do you accept Intermediate Bundle?]


    [Y / N] Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 25 Signing On The Dotted Line 3 Official Driver

    Luca lay flat on his back on the motel room bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the notification on the System''s interface. He hadn''t yet responded [Y / N] since signing the contract and many more documents just an hour ago."Intermediate, huh? So, that means I''m no longer a Rookie¡ªI''m Intermediate?" Luca asked, finally selecting [Yes].


    [Typically so, yes. You are now.]


    The System processed his answer, and a short loading bar zipped across the interface.


    [Congratulations! The Intermediate Bundle will now be embedded into your Activity!]


    Luca nodded, licking his lips instinctively. "So, what''s the difference between the Intermediate and Rookie Bundles?" he asked.


    [The Intermediate Bundle offers a slightly more challenging Daily Routine, harder Daily Tasks, and a stricter diet requirement.]


    "Oh, so that''s what you mean by it evolving. I see," Luca said. "Is that all?"


    [No, host. With the Intermediate Bundle, the System will undergo some adjustments on the track.]


    [Tracks can now be analyzed, dissected, calculated, and structured.]


    [The Sync Buff will take 3.5% longer to fill.]


    [Skills or Attributes will now need to be utilized twice before receiving an upgrade.]


    [Most importantly, the Intermediate Bundle unlocks a new Skill, host.]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a Skill:


    -Pitstop Prodigy: 2 ] S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Pitstop Prodigy? What kind of useless heck is that...?" Luca muttered, arching a brow. "Who doesn''t know how to pitstop? I thought you''d give me something cooler."


    [You still have more Skills and Techniques to unlock with EXP by maxing out the ones you already possess. Advancing to Advanced, Professional, and eventually the Top Driver Bundles will grant you additional Skills: two, three, and four Skills respectively for each level achieved.]


    [And do not underestimate Pitstop Prodigy. It provides a 4%-25% reduction in pitstop time and a 2%-10% boost in post-pit tire performance. Every detail, no matter how small, is critical in racing, host.]


    "Alright, I accept it," Luca said.


    [Wonderful, host.]


    [Now, I will provide a list of food items suited to your new diet, aligned with the Intermediate Bundle.]


    [As always, I''ve adjusted this to fit within your current financial capabilities. Please grab a pen and paper.]


    Luca sighed, but did as instructed. He sat up, crossing his legs on the bed, and leaned forward with the pen ready in hand.


    [ANALYSING DATA AND ATTRIBUTES...]


    [Welcome.]


    Luca froze for a moment, giving the System interface a perplexed look. "Uhhhhh... thank you?" he replied.


    [Food items:


    -Sweet potatoes


    -Grilled salmon


    -Greek yogurt


    -Avocados


    -Chicken breast


    -Whole grain pasta


    -Mixed nuts (almonds, walnuts, etc.)


    -Blueberries ]


    [This selection enhances your muscle recovery, energy and mental sharpness, host.]


    I hope I can afford this this time, Luca thought. I''ll give it to Sara when she comes.


    [REANALYZING DAILY ROUTINE...]


    [DAILY ROUTINE WOULD COMMENCE OFFICIALLY TUESDAY MORNING¡ª5 AM]


    [Ding!]


    Luca knew exactly what that sound meant, and he braced himself. The System was relentless, always one step ahead, ready to throw new challenges his way. Having just completed a mission, Luca hoped the next one wouldn''t stretch his abilities too far. His heart pounded as text scrolled across the glowing interface.


    [Advanced Mission has been Issued!]


    [-¡¤-WIN YOUR FIRST OFFICIAL RACE-¡¤-]


    The tight knot in Luca''s chest loosened, and he let out a breath he didn''t realize he''d been holding. "Not bad," he muttered, wiping away the sweat gathering on his temple. "Could''ve been worse."


    Just as he began to relax, a knock echoed from the door.


    Luca stood and opened it, revealing Sara on the other side. She stepped in, balancing a purse, a paper bag, and a larger market bag. With a sigh of exhaustion, she set everything on the small motel table and placed her hands on her hips.


    "Mr. Mallow''s tied up with Harry''s signing," she said, brushing a few strands of blonde hair from her face. "You won''t see him for a bit, so it''s just us for now." She motioned toward the bags. "I grabbed your breakfast, aligned exactly with the diet you provided."


    "Thanks," Luca replied, offering a smile. Then, handing her the new list, he added, "But after this, I''m switching to a different diet."


    Sara accepted the paper with a nod. "Got it. I''ll make sure the transition goes smoothly."


    She busied herself, arranging the meal neatly in front of Luca. His stomach growled audibly, reminding him that he hadn''t eaten since the previous night. With the clock already pushing past noon, hunger hit him hard. Without hesitation, he dove into the meal, savoring each bite.


    While Luca devoured the food, Sara rummaged through the other bag and pulled out a sleek white cuboid box, setting it carefully beside him.


    "Before he left, he bought this for you," Sara said, placing the box on the table. "It''s a smartphone."


    Luca froze mid-bite, his eyes widening in disbelief. His gaze darted between the white box and Sara. "A smartphone? For me?" He swallowed the food hastily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he reached for the box.


    With fingers trembling with excitement and anxiety, Luca carefully opened the lid, revealing a sleek, glossy black phone nestled inside. For a moment, he just stared, his reflection glinting off the polished surface of the screen. He couldn''t believe it¡ªhis own phone. Having a smartphone was the last thing he ever believed would happen to him.


    He had no devices of his own except his mp3 player and the dusty videogame set back at home.


    "He really didn''t have to..." Luca murmured, overwhelmed by the thought. He knew this wasn''t his money at work¡ªhis race winnings hadn''t even hit his account yet. This was pure generosity from Mallow, and it caught him off guard.


    Sara chuckled. "He told me that you''d say something like that and I should quote his words for you: ''Don''t think it''s a gift, you bozo. I''m your agent, and you need a phone to communicate with me.''"


    Luca burst out laughing as he lifted the phone out of the box, studying the smooth edges. The screen flicked to life once he pressed the power button, displaying the accurate time. I can''t believe it. These things are new devices, the pinnacle of technology! And I have one!


    He quickly looked up at Sara. "You''ve set it up, already?"


    "Yes, I have," Sara said, smiling as she continued, "Everything''s in there¡ªour contacts, schedules, even some apps for tracking your fitness and diet. You''ll get updates for your team meetings and race events directly."


    Luca grinned, feeling the weight of responsibility and excitement settling in. "This is... unreal. Thanks, Sara." The team meetings and race events were good, but tracking his fitness and diet, his System was way ahead any app she could install.


    Luca placed the phone on the table, his mind racing as he resumed his meal.


    -----------------------------------------------------


    The ride to the Trampos Racing headquarters felt interminable, making Luca believe they had crossed half the country to get there. When the car finally rolled to a stop, he wasted no time stepping out, eager to take in his new surroundings.


    The headquarters was a sight to behold¡ªan enormous complex with sleek glass walls that mirrored the sky above, while the towering main building stood at the center, flanked by smaller facilities. In the distance, rows of state-of-the-art garages housed pristine racing cars, and the entire area buzzed with activity.


    Luca could see engineers and staff moving purposefully, and everything emitted standard to him.


    Inside, Luca was introduced to key members of the Trampos Racing management. He met Mr. Fisher, the President, along with Mr. Grant, the stern Team Principal, and Emma Doyle, the Head of Strategy. They gave him a quick briefing on the team''s legacy and outlined their ambitious goal for the season: finishing in the top three.


    They also reminded Luca about the cancellation clause embedded in his contract¡ªhe had five races to prove himself and meet their expectations by making a podium.


    Later, Mr. Fisher invited Luca to a private room for a more intimate discussion. The room was plush, with luxurious sofas and a soft rug that absorbed every step. Mr. Fisher himself was a charismatic man, his neatly trimmed beard framing a warm, expressive face. His sharp, well-tailored suit strained slightly against his round belly, but it didn''t detract from the commanding air he projected.


    He spoke with an easy confidence, his voice smooth and engaging, radiating both charm and authority.


    Their conversation delved deeper into the goals for the upcoming season, which was just a week away. While Mr. Fisher did most of the talking, Luca remained attentive, drawn in by the man''s enthusiasm. Mr. Fisher discussed the potential endorsements and sponsorships that could come Luca''s way if he performed well.


    Then, with a smile, the President made a surprising offer¡ªhe would personally endorse Luca, becoming his first sponsor.


    However, when Mr. Grant, the Team Principal, entered the room, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The warmth in Mr. Fisher''s tone vanished, replaced by a professional demeanor. Their conversation became strictly business, and all traces of informality were swept away as they focused on the critical expectations ahead.


    The discussion centered around whether Luca would be in the two main drivers or serve as a reserve. With four drivers now in the team, competition was fierce. From what Luca had gathered, Trampos Racing had never recruited from Grey-Husson''s before, and they expected him to meet some lofty standards.


    I''ll show you guys I''m good enough. Just put me in the team¨CI don''t wanna be a reserve driver.


    Mr. Fisher leaned back, crossing his legs, the motion emphasizing his round belly beneath the sharp suit. "We''ve made a decision, Rennick. We believe it''s a solution that favors both you and Haas, our first reserve driver. He''s been eager to break into the lineup ever since Denko was promoted," Mr. Fisher explained.


    "For the early races, we''ll rotate you two between Sprint and Featured. Whoever performs better will claim the spot for the rest of the season. Your Team Principal here will oversee the switch."


    Mr. Grant, standing with arms crossed, gave a curt nod. His polished shoes tapped lightly on the plush rug, revealing his measured impatience.


    "Thank you," Luca said, glancing at Mr. Grant. He had the distinct impression that the Team Principal wouldn''t have given him this opportunity if not for Mr. Fisher''s intervention.


    Before the meeting ended, Luca was issued a quarter of his first payment on the spot as part of the financial structuring and an assurance of trust. The funds were meant to cover initial expenses and ensure his focus remained on racing. He was also scheduled for comprehensive medical checkups, including cardiac, neurological, and physical endurance tests, ensuring he was fit to race.


    In addition, the team offered him on-site accommodation at the headquarters, with most amenities and services provided for him.


    Luca shook hands with Mr. Fisher and Mr. Grant, looking them in the eyes as he promised, "I won''t let you down."


    He left the room and found Sara waiting outside, her face glowing with excitement. She held up her phone, waving it playfully. "Got the alert already!"


    Luca grinned, his relief turning quickly to resolve. "Once you''re done clearing up the necessary expenses, send 95% of what''s left to my mother," he instructed without hesitation.


    "Will do!"

 Chapter 26 Season Opener Pushing Limits

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...][Daily Routine Has Officially Commenced Today.]


    [5:30 HYDRATION & MEDITATION: Host will get out of bed and stretch to loosen his muscles. Taking a full glass of water will kickstart your metabolism. Afterwards, you will sit quietly for a few moments. By breathing deeply, you will help release all forms of stress.]


    [6:00 WORKOUT & GROOMING: Your daily workout routine includes Burpees, High-Intensity Interval Training (HIIT), Core Strengthening Exercises (Planks, Russian Twists), Push-ups, Lunges, and Flexibility Training (Yoga Poses and Deep Stretches). Afterward, you''ll take a shower to refresh yourself.]


    [7:00 BREAKFAST & NUTRITION: A nutritious meal and more water to stay hydrated.]


    [You have five minutes to begin your Daily Routine.]


    Luca got out of bed, his body refreshed and coursing with life as the bright morning sun filtered through the clear windows of the room provided for him. He picked up his phone, initially planning to plug in his earpiece, but thought against it. Let''s go old-school, Luca. It''s always been like that.


    He reached for his little MP3 player, its blue-and-white casing faded with slight scratches across the surface. Plugging in the earpiece, he stuffed them into his ears as he got dressed in a tracksuit from the wardrobe¡ªits fabric marked with Trampos Racing''s emblem alongside those of their sponsors. Most of the sponsors weren''t household names, but Luca recognized a few.


    The tracksuit fit him perfectly, hugging his lean frame as he jogged out of his room, which looked more like a base camp straight out of a movie set. Music thumped gently in his ears, setting a steady rhythm as he made his way down the steel stairs to the gym.


    First time here, Luca said to himself, glancing around with curiosity.


    The gym was well-equipped, with every piece of equipment he could imagine. A corner stocked with free protein shakes promised some refreshment once he wrapped up. Not wasting any time, Luca got to work. He started with burpees, each jump sending energy coursing through his muscles. Then came planks, holding his core steady, followed by Russian twists that engaged his obliques.


    His body responded smoothly, falling into a rhythm like an engine warming up on a race day. After finishing the set, Luca ended with a child''s pose, breathing deeply as his muscles stretched and relaxed under the rough yet soothing pull of his favorite kind of music.


    [Scanning host''s Attributes for area of concentration...]


    [Strength: 8


    Stamina: 11


    Endurance: 16


    Agility: 7


    Intelligence: 10 ]


    [Suggestions: Agility & Strength]


    [Hosts will be granted the privilege of choice.]


    [AGILITY / STRENGTH]


    Luca pondered for a moment. He recalled how he had earned some XP points in past races for Strength, but struggled to accumulate any for Agility. Deciding it was time to balance his stats, he opted for Agility. Strength points could be earned randomly, after all.


    [You have selected AGILITY] S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Agility is crucial for you, as it impacts reaction time and control, both essential for handling the high-speed demands of an F1 car.]


    [Enhanced Agility ensures precise handling, reduces errors when navigating tight corners, and improves your response under pressure.]


    [Today''s session will focus on Speed Hurdle Drills, T-Drills, and Shuttle Runs.]


    [EXERCISE: SPEED HURDLE DRILLS]


    [EQUIPMENT: LOW HURDLES]


    [Host is required to sprint over the hurdles with quick, controlled steps, focusing on maintaining speed and precision.]


    [This will be done for 5 minutes, alternating between single-leg and two-leg hops to enhance foot speed and agility.]


    "Alright," Luca muttered, clapping his hands in excitement. He stood before the line of low hurdles, eyes locked on the small barriers. Determination welled inside him as he adjusted his earpiece, ready to synchronize every move to the music''s tempo.


    [Let us proceed with SPEED HURDLE DRILLS]


    Launching into motion, Luca''s body responded instinctively. His feet moved swiftly, barely grazing the ground as he hopped over the first hurdle while maintaining balance. Alternating between single-leg and two-leg hops, he picked up a rhythm of footwork.


    Luca could feel the burn in his calves and tires, but it didn''t bother or hurt him, it was almost numb as he continued effortlessly like playing hopscotch. His breath was steady and his movements precise until the exercise was over.


    [Ding!]


    [Agility +1]


    Luca stopped, placing his hands on his hips as he glanced at the digital interface. "Well, that was easy to get," he muttered under his breath.


    [Correction, host. Your agility stat was near its threshold. This exercise merely finalized the progression.]


    [Good job, host. Moving on to the next]


    [EXERCISE: T-DRILLS]


    [EQUIPMENT: CONES]


    [Host will sprint to the first cone, then move laterally in a ''T'' pattern, focusing on quick turns and direction changes to boost speed and agility.]


    [This will be done for 5 sets, each lasting 30 seconds with short rests in between to allow your body to recover while maintaining intensity.]


    Luca smirked. T-Drills. Just an upgrade from standard cone drills. Before even starting, he knew it would be a walk in the park. He set up the cones as instructed and began to move as quickly as possible. He weaved through the cones, accelerating with each course as he completed the sprint and returned to the starting point.


    [Good job, host. Moving on to the next.]


    [EXERCISE: SHUTTLE RUNS]


    [EQUIPMENT: MARKERS]


    [Host is required to sprint between two markers set at a specific distance, touching the ground at each marker before quickly turning and sprinting back.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of 10 runs, focusing on speed, endurance, and quick direction changes.]


    Luca stood at the starting point, his eyes fixed on the marker ahead. He took a deep breath and launched forward, his feet pounding against the ground as they carried him to the first marker. Once he approached, he dropped low swiftly and tapped the ground with two fingers before pivoting swiftly, propelling himself back toward the starting point.


    He did the same once he reached where he had started from, sprinting between the markers again and again without huffing and puffing. But he did break a sweat. By the final sprint, a low grunt escaped as his index finger grazed the marker. With a small hop, he concluded the exercise.


    [Good job, host. All exercises assigned have been completed.]


    [You can head over to the next phase of your Daily Routine. Your time in the gym today is over.]


    Luca exhaled deeply, grabbing a bottle of water from his bag. He tilted his head back, drinking until only drops were left, then plopped onto a nearby bench. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out his phone and powered it on for the first time that day.


    Several messages from Sara awaited him, each providing updates about his bank account and referral details. Luca typed a quick response, thanking her, then swiped to a new text message from Mr. Fisher.


    Mr. Fisher: Season Calendar has been out for some time. Don''t tell me you haven''t viewed it.


    Luca raised an eyebrow, mildly caught off guard. He hadn''t checked. Without missing a beat, he sent a reply, blending a half-truth, half-lie into his response.


    Luca: It''s quite tight, sir. I''ll do my best to keep up.


    Once the message sent, Luca navigated to the calendar update and reviewed it himself. To his relief, the first half of the Grand Prix in March would take place in Germany. That meant no immediate travel for the rest of the month.


    Luca sighed in quiet satisfaction, leaning forward slightly as he continued his survey to study the circuit details.


    German Grand Prix


    Location: Bad Rauenberg, Germany


    Date: Mar. 8


    Track: Bergwaldring Circuit


    Luca wondered if the rumored overhaul of the "New Format" and "Expansion" had been implemented yet or if it would roll out next season. He sincerely hoped it wouldn''t interfere with his career¡ªthis style of racing was all he knew.


    Leaning back against the neat wall, Luca rested his shoulders, lost in thought, until the sound of footsteps approaching caught his attention. Instinctively, he looked up.


    Standing before Luca were two young men, likely around 19 or 20. One was tall and lean, with slicked-back blonde hair and sharp features, while the other was stockier, with a solid build, dark hair, and a squared jaw. Both were dressed in gym wear, sweat glistening on their foreheads, clearly fresh from a workout.


    "Hello," Luca greeted with a short nod.


    "They say you''re from Grey-Husson''s, so you must be a good prospect, ja?" the stockier one said with a snort. "Don''t think this is a pet show, and you could just waltz in and take the track. I''ve been in the lines for a long time, and I deserve to be on the team."


    Oh, I see. He must be Erik Haas Mr. Fisher talked about. And who''s the other? Another reserve?


    "It''s nice to meet my teammates," Luca replied. "I''m only here to show what I''ve got and earn my way up to F1 as quickly as possible. I''ve got no intention of taking anyone''s spot."


    The taller one chuckled, tossing his sweat towel over his shoulder. "Oh, he thinks he''s heading to F1?" he sneered. "Dreams are dreams, but in reality, you don''t even belong here. I''m the next in line after him," he added, with an accent Luca immediately recognized.


    American? Wow, so much diversity.


    Where''s their main driver? Luca thought, scanning them. Doesn''t seem like the kind of guy to hang around with these two? Then again¡­ why would he? Bunch of losers.


    Luca stood up from his seat, surprised to find that the American was even taller than he''d expected. Without missing a beat, he gathered his belongings, packed them neatly into his bag, zipped it up, and slung the strap over his shoulder.


    "Well, if you belonged in F1, you''d be there already," Luca said coolly, locking eyes with the stockier one for a moment. "Good day."


    With that, he turned and walked out of the gym, leaving the two behind as he continued with the rest of his Daily Routine.


    The Formula 1 motorsport season officially began the next day.

 Chapter 27 Season Opener 2 Kick-off

    Luca spent most of his week training¡ªkeeping up with his Daily Routine and Tasks, while spending some reasonable time at the simulators. He had driven physically and raced nearly thirty times around a modest training track at the Trampos Racing headquarters, pushing himself to refine every corner and apex.Each lap was a chance to shave off milliseconds, and the constant repetition made every gear shift feel like second nature.


    Just as his System had warned, attribute and skills progression now required 3.5% more effort due to the Intermediate Bundle, and Luca felt the burn. He noticed how little EXP his attributes gained, forcing him to put extra effort into his Strength and Agility to satisfy his OCD. He wanted all his Attributes to break into double figures, making sure no single stat would lag behind.


    Now, his Attributes looked like this:


    [Strength: 10


    Stamina: 11


    Endurance: 16


    Agility: 10


    Intelligence: 10 ]


    His training scheme was tight, and so was Mr. Grant. The man was a no-nonsense Team Principal with a military-like approach to training. He demanded precision, discipline, and unwavering focus from all the racers under his guidance. Luca found his methods rigid, but helpful, believing more Team Principals in this racing endeavor might turn out worse.


    The season was already considered here by many, and Luca could feel the tension in the air. The tension was thick and sensitive, but it wasn''t what he had had in mind. Yes, all the staff, training managers and engineers have upped their work and efficiency, seriousness etched on everyone''s face.


    But Luca''s dreams had always been more tense, making him believe he''d have to face the press anytime he left his quarters, a barrage of questions being thrown at him.


    Instead, the atmosphere remained cool, with warm rays of the sun beaming down on the headquarters every day as the time to the first race approached.


    Maybe it''s because I''m in F2, Luca thought. In F1, I''m sure there''s more to this.


    Speaking of F1, Luca''s mind drifted toward the highest division of this motorsport. F2 was just a feeder series, and its season always ran in tandem with F1''s. This week, both championships were kicking off together, and although F2 usually raced before F1, the schedule this time was flipped. That gave Luca the rare chance to attend the opening F1 race at the renowned Bergwaldring Circuit.


    He didn''t even have to buy the ticket himself¡ªMr. Fisher had taken care of everything. "You all need to attend the first F1 race," Fisher had insisted, "it''s essential prep before ours kicks off the next day." With that, the Trampos Racing headquarters'' bus took Luca and the other three drivers to the circuit.


    Luca hadn''t yet spoken much to the team''s lead driver¡ªthe German number-one racer of Trampos Racing¡ªthough they had trained together for two days. Luca kept the relationship strictly professional for now, preferring to observe from a distance.


    The German''s experience and skill were undeniable, and Luca couldn''t help but wonder if he would eventually be of value to his teammate¨Cor if this his teammate would keep carrying the team.


    The bus arrived at the Bergwaldring Circuit where a spectacle of fans surpassing the 100,000 mark were cheering already. As he had hoped, Luca and the team were seated in a more prestigious stand away from the normal people. He glared around in search of maybe Harry''s team watching the game, unsure if Harry was even selected as a periodic driver.


    Remembering the race in Stadhaven that had nearly cost him his life, Luca wondered why F1 teams had raced there during preseason. Was it some form of competitive training, or a way to test out the newly revamped Stadhaven Circuit? He mulled over the thought as they settled into the stands, waiting for the race to begin.


    Luca paid close attention to the race as it began, studying the intricate choreography of the cars as they maneuvered around the track. The roar of the engines filled the air, a symphony of power and precision that set his heart racing.


    He observed the drivers'' tactics, their aggressive overtakes, and the subtle nuances of their racing lines, noting how each competitor pushed their vehicle to the limit. This was peak motorsport racing and Luca could tell. The mastery on display was stunning, leaving him with a bittersweet wish that he''d recorded his own drives to compare with this artistry he was witnessing.


    Luca almost cheered aloud when Nevada HanSama¡ªthe team his father was involved with¡ªexecuted a spectacular overtake. He bit back the urge, suddenly aware of his surroundings. It felt surreal to be sitting here, in the stands of an F1 race again.


    From their prestigious vantage point, it was like having front-row seats to a thunderous concert, the engines growling like heavy musical instruments, and tires screeching like cymbals. The vibrant colors of the cars blurring as they raced past was what instigated the excitement in people, and Luca found himself cheering within.


    As the race settled into a rhythm, Luca relaxed into his seat, letting the sound of engines ebb into the background. He glanced sideways and was surprised to find his teammate beside him¡ªthe one he hadn''t yet spoken to properly. Ansel Hahn, 22 years old, had a quiet demeanor that often made him seem distant or lost in thought, though his sharp eyes were always focused, taking in every detail.


    Luca had heard bits about him; despite his calm and almost aloof presence, Ansel was known for his precision on the track. Yet, off the track, he seemed almost like a ghost¡ªpresent but not entirely there.


    Believing it was the perfect time to break the silence, Luca cleared his throat and initiated the conversation. "My dream team is Nevada. What about you?" He half-expected to be met with silence.


    To his surprise, Ansel responded, turning to him with a calm, neutral expression. "That''s actually my second choice. My first is Squadra," he said in an even tone.


    Luca''s mind instantly flashed back to the incident with a Squadra Corse driver, but he quickly dismissed it. There was no denying Squadra Corse''s reputation. They were an exceptional team, often locked in fierce competition with Nevada HanSama and Jackson Racing. In fact, many considered Squadra Corse to be the superior team.


    Luca, though, was drawn to Nevada purely for the nostalgia¡ªhis father''s legacy fueling his loyalty. But in the eyes of most, Squadra Corse stood out as the stronger contender. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "How long is the board giving you to stay in F2?" Luca asked. "I hear you''ve held this position for a while."


    Ansel bit his lip briefly, his gaze steady as he exhaled. "This season¡ªthis year. If I don''t perform exceptionally, the feeder is where my career ends," he replied bluntly. "You, on the other hand, still have some time. And you''ve already been granted the opportunity to be a periodic driver early on."


    "I''m glad I got lucky joining a team that needed a good first driver," Luca said, then paused as doubt flickered in his mind. Was ''luck'' the right word? He recalled the endless grind after squeezing and clawing his way into Grey-Husson''s Academy. He wouldn''t have made it here without sheer effort.


    Shaking off the thought, he shrugged and added, "I just hope I get good enough this season and make it to the next level."


    Ansel smiled, looking somewhat astonished by Luca''s bold words. It was rare for a driver to make it out of the feeder series in his first season, but not impossible. Deciding not to disregard Luca''s hopes, Ansel nodded. "I hear you''re only eighteen, so be careful. Formula 1 racing isn''t completely about fun or sportsmanship, either on or off the track," he said.


    "Let''s say it''s just like a simmering undercurrent, it''s kind of a silent bad energy between people. That''s to be expected when the stakes are so high. They pay a lot, and that demands even more sacrifice. You get what I mean?"


    "I think I do," Luca replied, though his mind was still reeling from Ansel''s words. Bad energy? he thought. "What would you do about the situation if you¡ªwhen, when you make it?" The unsettling glimpse into Formula 1 caught Luca off-guard. It was hard to believe that the drivers on the track were entangled in a cold war behind the scenes.


    Ansel smirked mischievously, his eyes following the blur of single-seaters streaking by. "I''ll have no choice but to play the game," he said. "To survive and win, you adapt¡ªthere''s no other way. Look at the glass rooms over there." He gave a subtle nod toward the VIP suites overlooking the track. "The team principals, sponsors, agents... they''re all having their own race.


    Behind the cheers and podium celebrations, it''s a battle for influence. It''s about getting the best tech, producing the most powerful engines, the sharpest strategies, even the best treatment. If you''re not aligned with the right people, you might end up racing against more than just the clock."


    Luca blinked, stunned by the reality Ansel had laid out. What the heck? "So, it''s not just about skill, is it?"


    Ansel gave a calm nod. "Don''t get me wrong¡ªskill matters in F1. But it''s not everything." He studied Luca for a moment, raising a brow. "So, do you think you''re ready to be one of the youngest F1 racers? You seem a bit shaken by all this."


    Luca leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers over his stomach, sinking deeper into thought. Best treatment, he repeated silently. "I hope F2 isn''t like that. I''m ready to adapt... but not right away¡ªnot in my first race. I''ve never physically raced 50-plus laps in one go."


    Ansel gave a slight chuckle. "Don''t worry. F2 is a bit more peaceful¡ªand safer. The competition grows tougher every year, but it''s still more balanced compared to F1. Here, the engines and tech are mostly the same, so skill makes a bigger difference. If there''s any place where talent still completely holds sway, it''s here."


    Luca snickered, casting a sly glance at Ansel. "So, as my teammate, are you a racer of skill or a racer of good treatment?" he asked with a playful grin.


    Ansel smiled briefly. "Anyone can turn out to be both," he replied, his eyes drifting back to the track as the race progressed beyond its halfway point.


    On the leaderboard, Marko Ignatova of Squadra Corse held the lead, just a few seconds ahead of Jackson Racing''s Marcellus Rodnick. The third spot was occupied by another Squadra Corse driver¡ªAntonio Luigi, the same racer who had run over Luca. Luca watched as Luigi''s face flashed across the massive display screen.


    Nevada HanSama, disappointingly, wasn''t represented in the top four. But Luca noticed a certain name creeping up: Hank Rice, running fifth and steadily gaining ground. The tension thickened as the 52nd lap of the Bergwaldring Circuit neared its end.


    Luca leaned forward, eyes glued to the live feed on the giant screen as the battle on the track intensified. Ignatova, with his commanding lead, danced through the circuit''s intricate curves, his every move measured and precise. But Rodnick wasn''t backing down, pushing his Jackson Racing machine to its limits, inching closer with every turn.


    Fourth place was occupied by a Haddock Racing driver, but Luca could tell he was losing momentum. Nevada''s Hank Rice was right on his tail, pushing hard, now racing wheel to wheel in a thrilling battle.


    The roar of the engines echoed across the stands as other drivers behind them fought relentlessly, each maneuver executed with surgical precision, their eyes set on climbing higher before the next lap. Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the stands was electric, the crowd''s cheers swelling with every overtake and daring move on the track.


    The impulse to cheer as well was daunting, but Luca disciplined himself.


    As pitstops came into play and teams executed their strategies with military precision, the positions began to shift. Marcellus Rodnick took the lead, surging ahead of the pack, with Antonio Luigi moving up to second, just inches behind his teammate Ignatova, who had astonishingly fallen to third. The tension was almost unbearable now, every lap squeezing Luca''s nerves tighter.


    He watched in disbelief as the leaderboard flickered, the slightest mistake potentially spelling disaster.


    "That''s what I''m talking about," Luca whispered eagerly, watching Hank Rice secure fourth. Push yourself and get into third¡ªtwo laps left!


    His excitement crashed, however, as the leaderboard updated. His eyes darted to the front runners.


    "...and Rodnick has just lost the lead! Luigi claims it with two laps to go! Rodnick in second, Ignatova charging from third..!"


    What in the¡ª! Luca swore under his breath, stunned by how rapidly everything shifted on the track. He could barely believe how quickly fortunes changed in a matter of seconds.


    He was able to catch the last glimpse of how Antonio Luigi had executed a perfect maneuver, slipping through the inside line on a sharp turn and catching Rodnick completely off-guard. It was a bold and flawless move, one that had now given Squadra Corse the race lead.


    Luca gently lowered himself back into his seat after realizing he had stood up halfway, his heart still racing. He cursed under his breath, shaking his head in frustration. There was no changing it now. The final leaderboard was set, and the Nevada HanSama racer, Hank Rice, hadn''t managed to climb to third in time.


    The checkered flag waved with honor, signaling the end, as the single-seaters zoomed across the finish line one after another.


    "...and what a finish! Antonio Luigi for Squadra Corse crosses the line in first place! Marcellus Rodnick, after leading most of the race, takes second for Jackson Racing, and Marko Ignatova secures third for Squadra Corse. A stunning last-lap overtake by Luigi¡ªwhat a...."


    Luca sighed in disappointment as the commentary echoed through the grandstands. He checked his phone after receiving a notification. It was a live update of the Formula 1 season, with the points for this race already tallied. Scrolling down, he noticed the F2 database was still empty¡ªtomorrow would be their day.


    Minutes later, the celebration for the top three began, and the podium was prepared. Luca stood with the crowd, clapping along as the top racers ascended the stage. His gaze locked onto Antonio Luigi, whose confident grin was unmistakable as he accepted the trophy.


    Luca''s eyes narrowed as he observed every detail of the Squadra Corse driver¡ªthe same one who had struck him in Stadhaven. The recklessness of his driving then and the refusal to check up on the marshal he had hit, had already given Luca a profile of who he was.


    Luca watched as Luigi raised the trophy, basking in the cheers, utterly unfazed by the crowd''s adulation. Luca couldn''t wait to make it into F1.

 Chapter 28 Season Opener 3 Race Day Reckoning

    "...well, it''s race day in the feeder series, and you''re absolutely right, Jon. The competition is stacked, and it looks like several teams have made significant adjustments coming into this season. We''ve got some fresh talent behind the wheel, and with that, we can expect new strategies and some unpredictable moves.This is shaping up to be one of the most competitive F2 seasons we''ve seen in a while. Thirty cars¡ªyes, thirty¡ªwill be taking on the Bergwaldring Circuit today, and honestly, Jon, this could easily captivate the fans even more than yesterday''s F1 race. The energy here is off the charts...!"


    Luca sat on a bench after sliding on his balaclava, the snug head sock wrapping around his neck and face. A pair of new headphones rested over his ears, pumping out a booming blend of sporadic music that echoed faintly in the cocoon of his muffled world.


    His phone sat comfortably in his hand, Bluetooth linked to the headphones, and a fresh message from Mallow popped up on the screen: I''ll be up in the high stands¡ªdriver agents'' section.


    Luca leaned back slightly, letting his mind buzz in sync with the music as he sat there in the lively pit garage, surrounded by the pulse of Trampos Racing. Mechanics zipped around him with sharp precision, tools clattering, wheels thudding into place, and the aroma of burnt rubber and engine fuel thick in the air. Some of the crew gave him passing taps on the shoulder as a sign of encouragement.


    He cast a glance at the four single-seaters resting beneath the bright fluorescent lights. Two had already been out on the track, their glossy sheen dulled by streaks of tire wear, while the remaining two stood sleek and untouched, waiting their turn to roar to life.


    Luca''s gaze wandered toward the sunlight spilling through the open garage door. Beyond it, he caught a glimpse of the narrow racing lane and part of the spectator stands, already brimming with cheering fans.


    Though the crowd''s roar was lost behind the music and noise-canceling padding, the electric charge in the air was unmistakable¡ªit thrummed all around him, clawing at his nerves if he''d be honest.


    Luca used this quiet moment as a chance to mentally map out the Bergwaldring Circuit, envisioning every turn and straight, memorizing the strategies Mr. Grant had drilled into him. With only a few minutes remaining before the Featured Race kicked off, he ran through the tactics again¡ªanticipating how he''d react to overtakes, defend his position, and manage pit windows.


    Today, Luca was appointed to race alongside Ansel, who had already shown his capability in the morning''s Sprint Race.


    In that race, Ansel had teamed up with Haas for Trampos Racing, both securing solid finishes¡ªsecond and sixth respectively.


    "So much for ''I deserve to be on the team,''" Luca thought with a smirk, recalling Haas''s earlier arrogance. Sprint Races, in Luca''s eyes, were straightforward¡ªfewer laps, no mandatory pit stops, and all about pure speed. He believed that if he''d been given the chance, the podium would''ve been his.


    But the Featured Race was a different beast: longer, requiring endurance, clever pit strategies, and tire management. It wasn''t just about speed but knowing when to push and when to hold back¡ªreading the flow of the race like a seasoned driver. Luca understood that mastering this balance would separate a decent racer from a great one. And today, he intended to be great.


    He shut his eyes, lowering his phone beside him, and rubbed his palms together as he exhaled slowly. Just a month ago, he''d been running himself ragged, working endless hours to support his family at such a young age. Now, somehow, he stood here¡ªa professional motorsport racer. And not just any racer, but the son of Rennick, the forgotten legend.


    That name was a weight Luca carried with pride, determined to restore the honor it once held.


    A small grin crept onto his face as he glanced down at the number on his suit¡ª21. A perfect inverse of his father''s number, 12. It felt symbolic, as if destiny had aligned itself in a subtle way. I''ll make this count.


    His thoughts were interrupted as he saw Ansel descending the stairs into the garage. Ansel bent low to avoid hitting his head on the frame, his full Trampos Racing suit clinging to his lean, athletic frame. The dark material, accented with sharp red and white lines, gave him a sleek and purposeful appearance.


    The team''s logo stood proudly on his chest and sleeves, making him look every bit the professional racer.


    Ansel stood at the foot of the stairs and met gazes with Luca beneath their head socks. Luca could still sense that calm, quiet intensity in Ansel''s eyes. Trampos''s star indeed, Luca thought, lowering his gaze to the logos for "Fijee" and "Catapult," two of the team''s prominent sponsors, adorning his suit and helmet.


    Ansel shifted his gaze around the garage, unintentionally blocking three staff behind from passing as he stood at the foot of the stairs. With a calm step, he moved toward Luca, his helmet swinging subtly at his side. The helmet''s red and white design mirrored his suit, with his number¡ª43¡ªetched boldly across the top.


    Luca, noticing Ansel''s approach, quickly removed his headphones and rose to his feet. They stood eye to eye for a brief moment, sizing each other up before breaking into a casual dab handshake.


    "Are you dialed in?" Ansel asked, his words slightly muffled because of the head sock.


    Luca nodded. "All set," he replied.


    Mr. Grant and Mr. Moritz walked over, a few staff trailing behind them. Mr. Grant folded his arms and said, "Alright, gentlemen, stay sharp out there. Trust your instincts, and remember¡ªevery lap counts.


    Do you understand?!"


    "Yes, sir."


    Mr. Moritz chimed in, adjusting his glasses, "Focus on your lines and tire management; it''s going to be a long race. Let''s bring home some points from the first race, alright?!"


    Luca and Ansel gave firm nods as the staff moved in to conduct final checks. Pit crew members inspected Luca''s helmet, gloves, and suit with precision, making sure everything met safety standards.


    Meanwhile, the sleek, black single-seaters¡ªmirroring the racers'' suits¡ªunderwent a last-minute examination. Wrenches clanked, gauges were verified, and every detail was double-checked


    Luca could tell his car was race-ready. His system had run through every component, and everything checked out perfectly. All that was left now was to hit the track and make it count.


    [Vehicle Specifications:


    Brand: Dallara


    Model: F2 04


    Engine Type: Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit (A.K.A: SomberCore)


    Weight: 740 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h (0 km/h)


    Acceleration: 3.5 sec


    Max Power: 620 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 80%


    Tire Condition: New


    Telemetry Status: Active


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    Luca appreciated that every F2 racer competed with the same car model and engine, ensuring victory relied purely on skill. Ansel had the exact same setup.


    He adjusted his No. 21 helmet as they approached the cars. Both racers slipped smoothly into their cockpits, where the mechanics secured them¡ªattaching the HANS devices, tightening seatbelts, and adjusting the steering wheels to perfection.


    In the dim interior, Luca''s peripheral vision flickered as his System interface awakened, shimmering like frost before taking shape.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Dallara (F2 04)]


    Luca took a deep breath as he felt the car rise above the floor of the garage, gently rolled out into the sunlight. The roar of the crowd erupted wildly, an explosion of excitement that filled the air and sent adrenaline coursing through his veins.


    The stands were packed at the Bergwaldring, a vibrant sea of colors from flags and team merchandise waving in unison. Fans jumped to their feet, their cheers resonating through the circuit, echoing off the grandstands. Chants for their favorite drivers mixed with the palpable tension of race day, creating an electrifying atmosphere that surrounded the track.


    "...and Jon, what do you make of Trampos'' new star? Think he''s up to the task? From Grey-Husson''s top lot¡ªsounds promising, right? But how good can he really be on the track? A reliable teammate or... another rival for Hahn?


    Number 21, Rennick, makes his debut for Trampos Racing today..."


    "...promising, sure¡ªbut talent alone won''t cut it. We have a lot of it here. Let''s see if he can keep it clean or get in his own way, otherwise Trampos Racing could kiss most of their sponsors goodbye this season..."


    "...indeed, Jon. The teams are lining up on the grid, and, my, we''ve really got 30 engines about to roar to life here in Germany. Marvellous....!"


    At the grid, Luca found himself placed into his starting position¡ªP6, on the outside of row 3¡ªthanks to his teammate Haas securing sixth in the Sprint Race. Just ahead, Ansel sat confidently in P2, on the outside of row 1, his car gleaming under the track lights.


    Luca took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of his helmet and the cramped cockpit. Unlike the single-seaters at Grey-Husson''s, these F2 cars lacked a full canopy, letting sunlight filter into the cockpit. But Luca liked it¡ªit gave the car character. With a press of the ENGAGE button, his machine rumbled to life beneath him.


    Twenty-nine other cars were locked into their positions, engines humming in anticipation. Luca scanned the grid, searching for the black-and-golden livery of the Squadra Corse junior team¡ªthe future home of Miles Bellingham, the Grey-Husson''s golden boy.


    Black and golden, black and golden, Luca muttered inwardly, glancing around. But the cars were too many behind him and there were no black-and-goldens before him he could spot.


    He sighed, shifting his focus to the gantry. The red lights above the leading cars¡ªP1, Max Addams and Ansel¡ªstood glaring and unblinking. Around him, engines rumbled like wild animals ready to pounce, hands gripped wheels tight, and feet hovered just above throttles, waiting for release.


    Luca still couldn''t believe it¡ªhis first official Grand Prix race, driving a Dallara, in a foreign country. He couldn''t help but think about his mother back home, wondering how she must be fairing. Knowing her very well, she was probably glued to the Motorsport channel, her usual Sunday routine now amplified by the fact her son was on that very screen.


    The red lights blinked, one after the other, counting down to the start.


    I have to win a podium spot at least. Can''t have my contract cancelled, and I won''t leave this track a failure. Mother, you watch your son win today.


    Luca drummed his index fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel, his gaze locked on the gantry ahead. Time seemed to stretch infinitely in those final seconds, the roaring crowd fading into distant noise, as if submerged beneath the surface of a deep ocean.


    **Are we ready?**


    **We are**


    "We are."


    The red lights overhead began their five-light countdown, flickering one by one. This immediately hushed the crowd in anticipation.


    No gunshot. No buzzer. Just the ritual of those red lights disappearing, until¡ª


    "...and it''s lights out here in Germany..." Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The sudden silence gave to the roar of engines, as Luca and all the racers exploded into life.


    [Host is participating in an Official Race]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 80 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 90m


    -Time: 5 sec ]

 Chapter 29 German Grand Prix

    Luca joined the cluster of cars early on in the race, his heart racing as the lights flicked off. The atmosphere was electric, and the roar of the engines filled the air as they surged forward. It was congested on the straight from the grid, with cars jostling for position.Luca focused on the track ahead, aiming to find a gap as he deftly maneuvered through the chaos, emerging in 10th place as they approached the first turn.


    **Race has begun, remember what we have cultivated in the past days. Implement it**


    A voice crackled through his radio¡ªMr. Moritz. Luca responded well with a quick acknowledgment, his grip tightening on the wheel. He lightened the brakes, gently tilting the car to align with the curve. But just as he thought he could maintain his position, six cars behind surged forward and swept pass, cutting inside to overtake him through the turn. In an instant, Luca slid back to 16th place.


    "...Addams expertly keeping his lead with Hahn just behind him. Trying to make an early cut through Hahn''s slipstream is Aaronson, but Derstappen has given something to focus on...!"


    Luca took a deep breath, steadying his grip as the screech of tires echoed in his ears, a blend of colors blurring past him. It''s just one lap, boys; why the rush?


    He glanced at his side mirror, spotting a flash of red from a rival team¡ªan aggressive driver closing in, clearly eager to capitalize on any sign of weakness from him. He knew he had to keep his cool. The track was still young, and so was the race; there were still 50 laps ahead. Luca could spend 90 minutes in Bergwaldring.


    He shifted his focus back to the track as they entered the next straight. He found the chaos unfolding in front of him amusing¡ªcars weaving in and out, battling for every inch of asphalt. It was a mad scramble, and the leaderboard was clearly still too early to trust.


    Luca shifted his weight in his seat as the first lap came to an end, zooming past the roaring crowd that seemed incapable of running out of voices. He adjusted his line slightly, smoothly slipping past a racer without consciously intending to overtake. Now in 15th, Luca prepared for the upcoming curve as the pack of engines barreled forward.


    Just ahead, he caught sight of Ansel''s black and red single-seater¡ªa clear sign Ansel had dropped from 2nd to somewhere further back.


    Luca cursed as he entered the next turn. His eyes gleamed as he noticed the driver ahead braking too late, causing their rear to slide wide. Luca seized the opportunity, tilting his wheel with precision. His tires responded with immediate effect and gripped the tarmac while he bent the chassis and his body instinctively, as if his body inside the cockpit could help guide the car''s movements.


    Number 78, an APX driver could do nothing as Luca emerged from his side, exploiting the turn to his advantage as they hit another straight, with all the cars accelerating and their gaps widening.


    [14th Position]


    "C''mon, that was an overtake, System. Where''s my +1?" Luca grumbled, easing more pressure onto his throttle to close the gap with 13th.


    [It seems I must recommend a new diet, host. One that cures amnesia¡ªapparently you''ve clearly forgotten that you''re under the Intermediate Bundle.]


    Yeah, yeah. Luca sighed, rolling his eyes.


    He nudged just close enough to cause panic to 13th''s side mirror but not quite enough to overtake as the 2nd lap concluded.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 200 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 10000 m


    -Time: 4 min ]


    **Maintain composure, boys.** Mr. Moritz''s voice boomed through the radio. **Keep to the rhythm of the track. Opportunities open around midway¡ªtake them with perfect precision. Do not lag.**


    **Understood**


    [Stamina +1]


    [12th Lap]


    [14th Position]


    [Tires are in good condition, host. Fuel level at 65%. DRS is now available. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 18%.]


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. Recommend maintaining current pace.]


    "Appreciate the update," Luca muttered, his eyes locked on the car ahead as they glided through a sweeping turn and lined up along a long stretch of track. His grip tightened on the wheel, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. He wasn''t about to let the 12th lap end with him still stuck in 14th place.


    As soon as the straight opened, Luca saw his window. He flicked the DRS switch, feeling the rear wing adjust, minimizing drag. The response was instantaneous¡ªthe car roared to life, surging forward with exhilarating speed.


    Luca tucked into the slipstream, the turbulence from the car ahead cutting through the air resistance. Then, with precision, he pulled to the side, sliding out of his opponent''s wake just before the next turn.


    14th place was history for Luca as he slotted into 13th, tilting his wheel to make the next curve as the 13th lap began.


    [Overtaking +1]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    Luca felt a pang of guilt for the driver he had just overtaken. That maneuver had left the other racer exposed, and before he could stabilize, four rivals shot past him like arrows loosed from a bow. Now, the four cars were bunched together, fiercely battling for a position that seemed priceless to them¡ªall while still chasing after Luca.


    Refocusing on the track ahead, Luca''s System interface projected itself into his view, rapidly displaying real-time data from the cars zooming in front of him, holographic numbers hovering above them to easily represent their positions.


    This real-time information from other cars would give Luca an edge¡ªidentifying who was slowing down and who had operational issues that could be exploited as long as they were significantly close to him and his Dallara.


    [15th Lap]


    [Stamina +1]


    [Tires are in satisfactory condition, host. Fuel level at 65%. DRS is now available. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 18%.] Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. However, considering you''re on lap 15, a pit stop is recommended within the next few laps to refresh your tires and maintain performance for the remainder of the race.]


    Alright, that''s reasonable. I''ll see where we''d be at by the 20th.


    **Luca, tell me you are in 10th at the very least**


    A voice crackled through the radio as soon as he had his eyes set for the 12th Position. It was Ansel, and he was checking up on his teammate.


    Luca glanced up and saw Ansel''s black and red Dallara holding steady in an impressive 4th Position, tightly woven into the leading pack.


    "I''m 13th," Luca replied silently, afraid that he might not really be of use to Ansel. "Don''t worry, I''ll make it up there."


    **Please do**


    Luca heaved as the next curve approached, the roar of the crowd shaking the foundations of the Bergwaldring Circuit. The afternoon atmosphere boomed with life, harsh engines slicing through the air. Luckily, today was bright with fair weather¡ªperfect conditions for motorsport racing.


    The clamor of the crowd ignited a surge of adrenaline within Luca. It reminded him that the world''s eyes were locked on the first F2 race of the season. Being far from the top five gnawed at him, fueling his resolve to climb higher. He felt his fingers tremble slightly on the wheel as he angled into the next bend, trailing behind 12th, as if being dragged in its wake.


    As they exited the bend, the cars entered a long straight¡ªthe same stretch that marked the end of every lap and Luca knew this was his chance.


    He muttered rubbish under his breath, his foot teasing the throttle as their car balanced away from the bend back into the conventional aerodynamical position. Luca seeing openings from both sides of 12th, decided to take on its left, and drift his way before it by cutting his car''s nose in its view.


    Flipping the DRS switch, Luca felt the rear wing shift, releasing drag and giving him just the burst he needed. A surge of g-force hit him the moment the DRS engaged, and Luca was relieved he hadn''t attempted the overtake without flipping it first.


    [Strength +1]


    Luca followed the car like a fly, until the driver in the cockpit hesitated¨Cthe fraction of a second just enough for Luca to capitalize. He hit the throttle harder, rocketing to the left and matching side by side with his opponent.


    Through the visor, Luca caught a glance from the other racer¡ªan unmistakable flash of hostility and hate despite the helmet obscuring his face. Rather than concede, the rival swerved aggressively, trying to force Luca off the track with a sharp nudge.


    Bastard, Luca cursed. You''ll only give way for others behind.


    With his DRS still active, and an Overtaking Skill of 18, Luca found it easy to complete his planned overtake, considering they were on a straightway.


    12th Position was his as soon as the 15th lap was over.


    "...though it''s a nail-biting battle up at the front. Jon, could we talk about what''s happening in the midfield? My, that overtake was world-class! I fear Trampos Racing have really got their next man this time..."


    "....ahh, indeed Steve, this is shaping up to be one of the tightest races we''ve seen in a while. Look! We don''t even have a clear 13th to 25th yet; it''s like a swarm of bees back there....!"


    "....yup, but what we do know is that Bueseno Velocit¨¤ junior team racer, Max Addams, is leading the charge, and right behind him is none other than another Grey-Husson''s graduate, the pride of The Three Lions, Miles Bellingham. Dani Aaronson snagged third a little while ago, but my money''s on him losing it soon. What do you think, Jon...?"


    "...oh, I think you''re spot on, Steve. We''re a quarter into the race now, and that aggressive push into third has likely taken its toll on Aaronson''s car. His tire degradation is bound to be higher than the others, and a pit stop is inevitable soon. When that happens, his momentum will take a hit.


    He''s been running a low downforce setup, which is great for the straights, but it''s costing him grip in the tighter sectors. If his team doesn''t react quickly, he could lose significant time through the chicanes and hairpins, and we know how crucial those are on this and any circuit..."


    [Stamina +1]


    [Endurance +1]


    [18th lap]


    "I''m sure it''s time to make that pit stop, heh?"


    [Certainly, host. I believe your team will communicate with you any moment now.]


    **Oi, Luca, can''t you see the signs? Pit now**


    "Roger," Luca muttered as he tilted his wheel, his eyes flicking to the side mirror to assess how many opponents might overtake him after the pit stop.


    He slammed the throttle, hugging the edge of the track as he sped closer to the fans, heading toward the Trampos Racing garage. Braking with unreal precision, Luca executed his newfound skill¡ªPitstop Prodigy.


    Clank, wrench, thud, pat¨Czoom!


    Without a moment''s hesitation, Luca rejoined the race, slipping back into the middle lane as he still held 12th position.


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 170 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 90000 m


    -Time: 34 min ]

 Chapter 30 German Grand Prix 2 Midfield Climbing

    The race continued with an intensity that seemed to rise with every second. Racing was all about maintaining speed and performance consistently over long stretches, and Luca could feel it in every lap. The deafening roar of engines mixed with the continuous buzz of the crowd, lap after lap, making the race feel almost like a loop to him.Every overtake brought an uproar from the crowd, and Luca realized it wasn''t just the other drivers reacting¡ªit was affecting him too. An odd urge tried to surface within him, compelling him to push not just for first place but to also thrill the audience, to entertain them as much as win.


    He shook off the awkward feeling, refocusing on his car. The 20th lap was rounding up, and the top three were still far ahead.


    [Stamina +1]


    Zooming over the grid, Luca gripped the wheel tighter, his mind whirling with possibilities as he plotted a way past the sleek black-and-blue machine just ahead. 11th place is mine! he thought fiercely. "I wish I had a skill to predict where my opponent would steer next," he muttered under his breath.


    [Host has not unlocked skills to assess rival''s movements]


    Wait, there''d be a skill like that?! Sweet.


    [13th Position closing in]


    [Host has not unlocked Skills to disclose an opponent]


    Luca''s eyes quickly darted to his side mirror, a bright black-and-violet car was coming for him, and was coming fast with determination. The roar of the crowd erupted wildly as the engine''s acceleration tore through the air.


    Luca cursed under his breath. There was no mistaking it¡ªthe other driver had activated DRS. The rear wing on the black-and-violet car had flipped open, allowing it to gain critical speed on the straight. Luca knew the driver had one intention and it was to blast past him before they hit the chicane.


    All Luca needed to do was hold him off until the sharp left-right curve came into play, where raw speed would mean nothing without finesse and precision.


    Luca instinctively moved toward the center of the track to defend his 12th position, leaving zero gaps for the hurtling car to slip through. The black-and-violet car edged closer, its driver feinting a move to the left, but Luca shifted just enough to block the advance. The crowd cackled wildly as the two machines toyed with each other.


    The straightaway was disappearing, and the inevitable sharp curve came into view. Luca held off braking, waiting until the driver behind him committed first. Once he sensed the tension ease, Luca gently eased off the throttle and tilted the wheel sharply, adapting to the lethal curve of the chicane.


    To his surprise, the roaring, accelerating growl of the car behind remained loud¡ªtoo loud. His eyes instantly shot to the mirror. Whaa¨C the heck is this idiot doing?


    The black-and-violet car had refused to decelerate properly for the sharp chicane, clearly banking on Luca''s brief slowdown to gain an edge. The crowd gasped at the audacious move as the car surged forward with reckless power. Luca couldn''t believe it.


    He was forced to react instantly, effortlessly angling his cruising car to cover the line, not too erratic, but calculated¡ªjust enough to force that opponent to rethink.


    The subtle move of Luca''s chassis blocked the opponent''s path perfectly, cutting off the most obvious angle. The black-and-violet car''s driver slammed the brakes hard, the vehicle jerking violently as it tried to slip into another gap before the chicane closed entirely. But Luca had left nothing to chance.


    The space was too tight, and the only option left was a desperate squeeze through a sliver of track on the other side of the curve.


    "C''mon back off, man," Luca hissed, his grip firm on the wheel, wishing the other driver could hear him.


    They were now exiting the left-right curves, and Luca knew 12th position was slipping away. As soon as the straightaway emerged, the black-and-violet Dallara would no doubt unleash its speed with DRS. Just as the car behind him tried to power through, two more challengers¡ª14th and 15th positions¡ªclosed the gap at blistering speed, arriving at the scene like predators on a kill.


    The fresh contenders had perfectly capitalized on the previous chicane, hungry for position.


    Luca''s heart rate spiked instantly as he glanced at his side mirror, now filled with three roaring machines. The deafening noise of the crowd only worsened the tension.


    "...oh, Jon, let''s shift our attention back to the upper midfield, shall we? It''s getting tight up there! Retona Racing''s driver is breathing down the neck of the Trampos rookie, and¡ªhold on¡ªare those two teammates closing in beside him?! Wow, Jon, Kristensen''s teammate, Volyinski, got himself in a tough spot there. He''s boxed in, and if he doesn''t act fast, I believe he''s in serious trouble...!"


    The two cars that had brutally arrived at the scene were indeed teammates, and they deliberately boxed in the Retona car¡ªone attacking from the left, the other from the right.


    "No way," Luca muttered, watching the chaos unfold in his mirror. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It became an all-out battle behind him. The three cars screamed down the straight, their sleek Dallara frames inches from each other, tires so close they could almost kiss. Sandwiched between the aggressive pursuers, the black-and-violet car struggled to stay on the line. Volyinski fought desperately, jerking his wheel to regain control, but the pressure was too much.


    The car skidded violently, tires screeching as it spiraled out of control. The sleek frame twisted in a blur of purple, veering helplessly off the track. With a gut-wrenching thud, it slammed into the barrier to the left, sparks flying as shattered debris scattered across the circuit. The crowd erupted in shock, their gasps filling the air as the race claimed its first casualty.


    "...ooh, a massive incident there, Jon! Vlad Volyinski completely lost it for his team¡ªspun out and slammed straight into the barrier! That''s a heavy, though non-lethal, hit. The crowd''s on their feet with... amusement¡ªwhat a shocking twist! Looks like the chase behind the Trampos''s rookie just went horribly wrong!


    This is exactly what we came for!"


    "...Stunning. And this is just the first Featured Race of the season. A crash tally has begun already¡ªlet''s see how high that count climbs by August, Steve..."


    The crowd roared with excitement, as if something bad hadn''t just occurred.


    Track marshals rushed onto the track as soon as the 30th-position car zipped past, one waving a yellow flag from the lane. While the crash wasn''t catastrophic, it was enough to put the Retona driver out of the race, the cameras focusing on him as he shook his head in dismay. Behind him, the hood of his single-seater was emitting tendrils of smoke.


    The situation remained manageable, and a safety car was quickly dispatched. The damaged car was swiftly towed off the circuit before the next wave of racers could come barreling by.


    Still, with some debris scattered across the track, a marshal stayed in place, swinging the yellow flag vigorously to caution the incoming drivers as they rounded the lap again. Once that lap was completed, the remaining debris was promptly cleared, leaving the asphalt smooth and empty once more.


    The crowd, undeterred by the incident, pounded on the barricades, beating drums and chanting at the top of their lungs. The thrill of witnessing such a dramatic turn fueled their excitement, adrenaline flooding their veins as they reveled in the chaos.


    **At least he''s not your problem any more. Retona''s drivers can be good sometimes**


    [25th Lap]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 250 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 140 bpm


    -Operational Status: 80% (Good)


    -Breathing: Hiked


    -Distance covered: 125000 m


    -Time: 49 min ]


    [Stamina +1]


    [Endurance +1]


    [Agility +1]


    [Strength +1]


    [Intelligence +1]


    Luca''s mind was still reeling from what had just unfolded. It was mind-blowing¡ªalmost surreal¡ªknowing that the driver''s race had come to an abrupt end. And if there was anyone to blame, it would be him, the driver, if that were the case.


    Those two teammates had executed a lethal yet completely legal maneuver, boxing him in with surgical precision. The moment the pressure mounted, the driver''s inexperience or the sudden counter-momentum must have triggered panic, sending his car into chaos. Luca couldn''t help but wonder how different things might have been if the crash had turned out far worse.


    He gave a small shrug, forcing the thought from his mind. His focus locked onto the dissected and calculated road ahead as his body lurched against the seat, the g-forces pinning him back while he floored the throttle. He felt bad for the driver, sure¡ªbut there was no place for sympathy here. There was still a chance to fight into the top 3. Enough time to make it happen.


    "...Well, the Trampos rookie better watch his wheels, Jon! The APX boys are closing in fast¡ªand look at that¡ªit''s a textbook boxing formation! They''re lining him up for the same squeeze, and I doubt they''ll let him off any easier...!"


    Luca''s eyes widened as his heart raced once he caught sight of the two APX green-and-black cars in his side mirror, their gleaming bodies closing in with relentless hunger.

 Chapter 31 German Grand Prix 3 Pressure On The Asphalt

    [13th and 14th Positions closing in][Host has not unlocked Skills to evade a box]


    Luca''s heart pounded, and a surge of panic clawed at him. The screeching engines on either side of his car grew deafening, their noses creeping into his peripheral vision like predators closing in on prey.


    **Hey, Luca, as you can see, you''re in a tough spot there, heh? They''ve got you, and they''re gonna get you good if you don''t stay calm and focus on da wheel¡ªda wheel alone**


    Luca understood Moritz''s words. Mr. Grant had drilled this into him during training, embedding the same boxing maneuver into Luca and Ansel''s strategy for moments like this¡ªwhen they needed to trap a rival and throw them into disarray. But understanding was one thing; executing it was another.


    Right now, Luca''s mind was a battlefield¡ªthe thunderous roar of accelerating machines threatened to drown his thoughts, and the crowd''s bloodthirsty cheers only added to the chaos.


    **Keep your line steady. Look for a good gap and pick up the pace. If it gets too tight, make it up with the brakes. Better 15th than here with me, lad**


    Luca took a deep breath and managed to rasp, "Roger," his voice hoarse from tension. His gaze darted to both sides, locking briefly with the helmeted stares of the two APX racers flanking him. Their cars, dressed in sleek green-and-black liveries, inched closer with every second, determined to box him in. They knew he was the rookie for Trampos, and to them, he seemed like he might be an easy mark.


    The oppressive heat radiating from their engines pressed in on him, and the sheer pressure of the moment threw off the rhythm he''d carefully built throughout the race. The pulse of the crowd''s excitement was palpable, further fraying his focus. He began wavering his thoughts between slipping back to fifteenth and salvage what he could, or stay with them, and trust fate to decide what came next.


    Luca gripped the wheel harder and slammed the throttle, feeling the car respond with a surge of power. His speed skyrocketed, chewing up the straightway before the next turn. He was determined to punish the challengers, especially the one on his right, who''d be forced onto the outer slant of the bend.


    As the middle man, Luca would tilt sharply, leaving the APX driver with two brutal options: decelerate or skid and face the wrath of the grass.


    The cunning plan lit a spark in Luca''s heart, the weight of panic replaced by sheer determination. His mind cleared, and his fingers hovered eagerly over the steering wheel, itching to act. "Follow me, then," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as the bend loomed closer.


    His car wedged tightly between the two opponents, surging forward with precision, every motion drawing gasps from the Bergwaldring Circuit crowd with the cameras on them. The three cars shot down the track in perfect alignment, their tires howling as they scraped the asphalt, their noses locked parallel like jousting knights.


    The turn was fast approaching, and Luca focused solely on the curve, shutting out the deafening roar of engines beside him.


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 78%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 160 km/h]


    "Thank you," Luca whispered, adhering to the system''s precision, trusting the calculated path the track had unveiled before him.


    The origin of the bend approached. Luca gritted his teeth as he rounded the curve, his hands tightening on the wheel, determined to execute his plan flawlessly. The APX driver on his right was desperately holding his position, but Luca could feel the shift, the subtle tension in the car next to him.


    The track was narrowing as they approached the apex of the turn, and Luca knew this was his moment to strike.


    He edged his car closer away from the teammate on the left, closing the gap between him and the teammate on the right ever so slightly. His heart pounded, but his focus was razor-sharp. As the APX driver tried to hold his line, Luca tilted his wheel just enough to push him further toward the outer track.


    The rival''s tires were now dangerously edging into the safe zone, a thin strip of tarmac designed to keep cars from careening off the track entirely.


    [Agility +1]


    Luca''s car leaned harder into the curve, his movements precise and calculated. The APX driver had no choice but to move, Luca forcing him into a position where the only escape was off the main track.


    The crowd roared as they watched the new duel unfold¡ªtwo racers battling for dominance in a high-speed chess match. The APX car on his right wobbled, its tires momentarily losing grip as Luca continued to press him out. The exit of the curve was fast approaching, and Luca knew he had to commit now or risk losing his chance and position once a straightaway emerged.


    **I see what you are doing, Luca. Squeeze the bastard out before that bend ends**


    Luca listened to his engineer and leaned deeper into the bend, more aggressive now. His car clung tightly to the track, while the APX teammate on the right had no choice but to hold his line, unable to counter the developing squeeze.


    With a sudden, forceful turn of the wheel, Luca tilted his car sharply into the curve, leaving the APX driver no room to react. The rival''s car wobbled, its rear tires screeching as it skidded, struggling to maintain balance. The crowd gasped as the APX vehicle veered toward the outer edge of the track, nearly out of control.


    "....oof! We can all say that we saw that coming heh? Sven has just taken a big blow right there, and I don''t think his tires are friends with the track right now...!"


    Luca exhaled with relief as the APX car''s nose disappeared from his peripheral vision. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, catching the driver frantically trying to recover, possibly taking a line into the track once again, but it seemed too late¡ªthe disorientation had done its damage, and the lack of swerve power in tires on the outer track contributed to his dismay.


    With its tires fully on the grass, the car spun wildly, spraying dirt and debris across the edge of the track as the driver struggled to regain control and correct his trajectory.


    The APX vehicle veered dangerously close to a metal pole near the barriers, narrowly missing it by inches. The back tires bounced violently, the suspension groaning under the strain, leaving the car teetering on the brink of a crash. The crowd erupted, gasps turning into cheers as the driver barely avoided disaster, managing to bring the skidding machine to a halt just shy of the pole.


    "...and that''s another driver down the leaderboard, Jon! At least Sven can recover¡ªbetter than Volyinski earlier, that''s for sure....Even yesterday''s race didn''t pack this much thrill..."


    "...certainly. These young drivers are hungry¡ªfor the track, the trophy, and that next level. Some may regard F1 as the pinnacle of competition, but I''d have to argue F2 is far more dangerous. You can see the risks they make just to be eyes-worthy..."


    "...bold words, Jon. And an even bolder move by the Trampos rookie, Luca Rennick, just 18 years old. We can officially call him a trickster today. An excellent performance..."


    **You did well, Rennick. Make sure not to push too tight next time, heh?**


    "Understood."


    Luca kept his gaze locked on the road ahead, still holding 12th place as the 27th lap came to a close. Progress had been stagnant, with his efforts focused on defending his current position. On his left, the APX driver remained relentless, zooming alongside him, clearly itching to avenge his teammate''s earlier misfortune.


    [Intelligence +2] Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Endurance +1]


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    This can''t load any faster, huh?!


    Just then, the driver ahead in 11th made a pit stop, pushing both Luca and the APX racer forward. Luca moved into 11th, while the APX opponent found himself slipping to 13th, having tailed Luca the entire way.


    Navigating another tight curve, Luca managed to nose slightly ahead, the rhythm of their cars synchronized as they powered through the 28th and 29th laps, battling wheel-to-wheel.


    **Tell me you''re in tenth**


    Luca shook his head reflexively, as if Ansel could see him. A pang of guilt gnawed at him¡ªhe knew he wasn''t yet where he should be. He felt like he was letting Ansel down by not dominating the field the way Trampos Racing expected when he was signed.


    "I''m in tenth," Luca lied, hoping the truth would follow within moments if he executed his next moves perfectly.


    **Good**


    Ansel was sitting comfortably in 4th, a position to be proud of...at least. From the far horizon of the track, Luca could spot his teammate''s number hovering with a glowing green to signify a Trampos driver, distinct from the opponents'' blue numbers.


    On the 30th lap, Luca finally found his opening to move into 10th. The rival driver had tried to squeeze him toward the grass, but Luca''s Overtaking Skill kicked in, guiding him through the bend with precision. As he hit the straightway, Luca slammed the throttle and activated DRS.


    The sudden force jerked his body, but this time, he didn''t flinch like he had during his early days in a single-seater. His grip stayed firm, and every muscle responded in sync with the car''s momentum.


    Luca couldn''t believe the Formula 1 System was really making him stronger for F1 racing!


    [Strength +1]

 Chapter 32 German Grand Prix 4 Sync And Surge

    "...oh, Jon. I''m thrilled to see where this goes. The top three positions are constantly swapping, like it''s all for fun. Twenty-nine engines in play¡ªunbelievable! And a crash already? What a season this is shaping up to be...!""...take it easy, Steve. This is just early-season hype. By midseason, some of these guys will have dropped off, and we might start seeing some fresh faces on the podium. By the time the season ends, the real drama will unfold..."


    "...I just hope the excitement stays, Jon. Look at that crowd!"


    "...we''ve got some key players really igniting this race. Aaronson and Addams are putting on a show, keeping everyone on edge. It''s an unbelievable duel up front. Wasn''t it just a few laps ago we thought Aaronson would fade out?"


    "...well, that''s the beauty of motorsport. From the outside, we can predict all we want, but only the driver truly knows their limits and strategy..."


    "...very true. And just behind the lead pack, Luca Rennick is making overtaking look easy. Moving from sixteenth to eighth¡ªtop-notch performance. Even though Trampos isn''t the most popular team, their crowd is loud enough to be rooting for the young guy. What''s your take on Rennick''s chances...?"


    "...how many pit stops has he done? One? Maybe two? I wouldn''t get too excited just yet. I see him dropping back to around 15th before the race is done..."


    [35th lap]


    [ANALYSING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 300 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 75% (Good)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 178000 m


    -Time: 1hr. 8 min ]


    Luca couldn''t believe that in Grey-Husson''s, he had completed the 34-lap race already. Now, here he was in F2, tackling a grueling 52-lap race, where even the smallest events spanned at least 45 laps, with the longest reaching up to 60.


    He shrugged off the thought, keeping his cool as he pressed closer and bothered the driver in 7th. Three more positions to claim before he''d be right behind Ansel. And then what? Would they have to go head-to-head? A flicker of uncertainty crossed his mind. It was one thing chasing other competitors¡ªit would be entirely different having to face his own teammate.


    Luca had this clawing feeling that one day¨Cone race, that might happen.


    His eyes darted to the Sync Bar, now sitting at 62.5%. "I''ll really need you at the last minute," he muttered, gripping the wheel tighter. He began to wonder if the crowd, his team engineer, the agents, the Federation¡ªevery person watching, who had their eyes glued to the race would be able to notice the eerie precision that would flood his movements when the Sync Buff kicked in.


    Frightened by this, Luca questioned his System. The last thing he wanted was scrutiny or an investigation.


    [Host, the Sync Buff has no evidential impact on your vehicle. It solely amplifies your personal skills and abilities, including synergy with your engine type once a specific Bundle is met. Any investigation will show no sign of illegal car modifications or doping violations.]


    Sweet. Just what I wanted to hear.


    Luca sped through the 35th lap, steadily closing the gap to the driver ahead. The race was a gradual process; it was a rhythm¡ªletting the track flow beneath you, yielding to the curves, and slicing through chicanes with precision. On every straight, Luca squeezed the throttle, mindful of the rivals breathing down his neck, all eager to break into the top 10.


    With time¨Cthanks to the bends¨CLuca inched closer to the violet Dallara in 7th to start assessing a possible overtake.


    Luca''s hands gripped the wheel, his fingers naturally hovering over the array of buttons as the violet Dallara loomed just ahead, tauntingly within reach. The overtake demanded precision, timing, and total control. With a practiced flick of his thumb, Luca activated the ERS, unleashing the energy recovery system to give his car a much-needed surge of power on the approaching straight.


    His car responded instantly, surging forward with a burst of power as he approached the next bend, tilting with the machine before him. As they entered the hairpin, Luca toggled the brake bias slightly, adjusting the balance for a tighter cornering angle. His focus was absolute, the rhythmic hum of the engine syncing with the precise movements of his fingers on the wheel.


    With 7th hugging stubbornly to the inside, Luca saw his chance. He pressed the DRS button, opening the rear wing to reduce drag and increase speed as he shot down the brief straight. The gap between them closed rapidly, and Luca''s hands danced over the wheel again, fine-tuning the car''s settings with each shift in the track as he made the curve.


    This will be easy.


    Luca''s single-seater shot out of the bend, the timing flawless. The brief straight ahead was his moment to strike. He dialed up the fuel mix, squeezing every ounce of power from the engine. The car roared as it surged forward, gliding past the violet Dallara easily. The move could be described as clean and decisive.


    [7th Position]


    **That was magnificent, boy! That''s what I love to see! C''mon! Go for P6, son! Use that momentum!**


    [Overtaking +1]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [40th Lap]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    Luca''s eyes lit up as soon as the car ahead came into view. The holographic number 6 floated just above its canopy, but what truly captured his attention was the car''s exquisite design. The sleek black body shimmered under the sunlight, with intricate gold accents flowing along its edges like molten metal.


    The way the golden lines traced the vehicle''s silhouette gave it the aura of a masterpiece, more art than machine.


    He didn''t need to guess¡ªit was unmistakably a Squadra Corse junior team car. The bold emblem of the Italian team stood proudly on the rear wing, its fine detailing confirming it.


    Luca''s heart tingled with a mix of excitement and anxiety. There was a real chance that Miles Bellingham, his own personally appointed rival, was behind the wheel. If only he could confirm it on the spot.


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skill to analyze and retrieve rival''s profile]


    Luca eased off the throttle slightly, trailing just behind the elegant machine, his movements synchronized with it as if they were gliding in formation at a parade. He glanced briefly into his mirrors, ensuring that his position at 7th remained secure for now.


    [42nd Lap]


    "System, I''m too busy to study all the details. Just give me the overall car condition. I might have to pit before the closing laps," Luca ordered, his focus locked on the Squadra Corse junior team car that maintained a frustratingly narrow lead. His own car seemed incapable of closing the gap, except when the bends appeared.


    [Absolutely, host]


    [Tires are in satisfactory condition, host. Fuel level at 60%. DRS is now available. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 20%.]


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. A pitstop is not entirely recommended, host. This condition might serve through the next laps.]


    "Understood," Luca replied as he closed the distance between himself and the car ahead. The driver, alerted by the roar of Luca''s engine and likely receiving warnings from his race engineer, instantly went on the defensive. He tightened his line through the corners, hugging the apex to deny any room for overtaking.


    Approaching the next turn, the driver adjusted his braking point¡ªjust early enough to maintain control, but late enough to force Luca to hold position behind him.


    "Well trained," Luca muttered, narrowing his eyes as he spotted an opening. Instead of sticking to the typical racing line, he made a daring choice. He stayed wide, carrying more speed into the turn as he set himself on the outer arc.


    With a deliberate flick of his thumb, he activated the ERS, unleashing a sudden burst of power. His hands gripped the wheel with precision, fingers delicately fine-tuning the brake bias to keep the car in check. The tires screeched against the asphalt, smoke curling into the air, provoking a roar from the crowd as they deliberately inhaled it.


    Luca''s car drifted alongside the black-and-golden Dallara, the screeching tires signaling his intent. He was now side by side, ready to strike at the next opportunity.


    [You had made a 3.2g drift]


    Exiting the curve, Luca glanced over. The other driver finally acknowledged his presence with a quick, irritated look¡ªexactly the reaction Luca was hoping for.


    "Yup, it''s him," Luca muttered, confirming his suspicion. With a swift press of the DRS button, the rear wing snapped open, and Luca sensed Miles had done the same.


    The two cars barrelled down the track with unreal speed, engines screaming as they devoured the track, tearing through the air like bullets.


    [44th lap]


    **We are almost at 50th Luca, I made it to third, yet to see our colors close to me***


    Luca shook his head and cursed.


    He had just been racing side by side with Miles. Though they couldn''t see their faces or communicate, Luca could tell it was him, and not his teammate, Derstappen. And Miles had accepted the competition. No better car now heh? Same engine, same performance!


    Honestly, Luca couldn''t help the knot of envy and jealousy tightening in his chest. Miles''s career seemed to skyrocket effortlessly, and had an even more gracious path ahead. Making it into the Squadra Corse Junior Team was basically a golden ticket to F1. The main team was waiting for him, a mere formality. In contrast, Luca''s journey with Trampos Racing felt uphill.


    With no Senior Team to graduate into, he''d have to fight for recognition¡ªhope that a bigger team would notice his talent and take a gamble on him. If anyone was even looking.


    "Hmmm... What better way to stand out and catch their attention," Luca mused aloud, "than by overtaking their rising star?"


    Determined, Luca lifted off the throttle just enough to let Miles pull a one-second lead. But it wasn''t surrender¡ªit was strategy. He slipped in behind the black-and-gold Dallara, waiting to strike. Luca aimed to take the next bend early, using the angle to gain momentum, while Miles was forced to tilt and obey the conventional, curved line.


    Luca took advantage of the sharper angle, staying low and tight to the corner. He pressed the throttle gently but quickly, pushing himself through the bend with more speed than he even expected, the G-forces battering his body. As Miles stuck to the usual path, Luca surged ahead, slipping past his side at the exit with dangerous closeness.


    Within moments, Luca was clear of Miles''s car, and he jubilated like he had won a trophy!


    "Come on!" he shouted, his voice breaking slightly. He darted a glance at his mirrors, grinning as he spotted Miles''s Dallara chasing hard, desperate to reclaim the lost ground. "I did it!"


    [Indeed, host.]


    **Magnificent! Magnificent!**


    Luca could hear the pit crew''s claps through the radio.


    [6th Position]


    [45th lap] S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Intelligence +1]


    [Agility +1]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used]


    Luca''s heart rate spiked on hearing that. His fingers and feet trembled, frightened that he might not get to use it well, considering this was an official race.


    "Okay, okay... I can do this," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rumbling engine and the deafening cheers of the crowd. His fingers hovered over the controls, his foot itching to push the throttle further. Sync Buff was now available.


    "With Sync Buff... I hope my tires won''t tear?"


    [Analyzing....]


    [Current Operational Status: 80%


    Predicted Post-Sync Buff Operational Status: 50% ]


    That''s like average, Luca thought, tilting his wheel as he made a turn. He studied the text on the data displayed before him, weighing the risks. At 50% total car life, they wouldn''t be fresh for the final laps, but the Sync Buff could propel him far enough ahead to make it irrelevant. "What''s your advice, System?"


    [I would say: Go for it, host.]


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    Luca nodded once and selected yes.


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 13 ???? 50


    Stamina: 15 ???? 50


    Endurance: 17 ???? 50


    Agility: 12 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 14 ???? 50 ]


    [Due to Intermediate Bundle, Sync Buff takes Attributes to 50 mark]


    "Nice."


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy]


    Luca found the choice easy and selected the first three skills¡ªReflexes, Overtaking Skill, and Track Awareness. Pitstop Prodigy was useless for him now; he had no intention of pitting again as advised, so there was no need to waste a buff on it.


    [Successfully Selected!]


    [Reflexes: 17 ???? 50


    Overtaking Skill: 19 ???? 50


    Track Awareness: 13 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 4 min. 58 sec left for Sync Buff]


    [Your heart rate has picked up by 4 beats!]


    Luca gripped the wheel tightly, his heart pounding in his chest louder than the roar of his engine. He quickly scanned the Sync Buff-influenced system interface before focusing on the track ahead, which unfolded like a vivid map only he could see. Every line, every ripple in the asphalt was as definite as an architect''s work.


    [46th Lap]


    "Ahhh, fuck," he cursed, realizing that 5th position was still quite far ahead. He pressed the throttle hard, making sharp decisions with precise swerves and flawless DRS use. He could close the gap quickly, but would he do it in time?


    [47th Lap]


    "...and it looks like we''re approaching the final leaderboard, Jon. What an incredible race this has been, but¡ªwait! Hold on a second! Look at that! The Trampos rookie is absolutely flying down the track! He''s tearing it up like a beast!


    What on earth are we witnessing on the very first day of F2...?!"


    Luca tilted the wheel, effortlessly weaving through a chicane without needing to decelerate due to Sync Buff. Maintaining a strong speed, he sliced past the driver in 5th position, who had no choice but to slow down for the tight turn.


    **That''s P5! What did you eat for breakfast?! Keep it up! Keep it up! Don''t pit at all, finish for us!**


    [5th Position]


    [48th Lap]


    [Good job, host]


    "I''m at 5th, mate," Luca spoke into his radio, addressing Ansel. "Do you still claim third?"


    **No. Took 2nd some seconds ago, but I''m not sure I can keep it**


    The single-seater in front of Luca gleamed in orange and black. Eager to get a better look at the emblem on its side, he pushed his car closer, feeling the rush of Sync Buff flood through his veins.


    "Nevada Junior Team," he muttered, instantly recognizing the emblem. Another driver to overtake, another chance to prove to the people and Executives that real talent lay here.


    [You have 3 min. left for Sync Buff]


    [49th Lap]


    Luca''s heart raced. He wanted to complain to his System, believing that the Sync Buff time must have extended with the Intermediate Bundle. But instead of voicing his frustration, he concentrated on the task ahead.


    Before long, he spotted Ansel''s Dallara in the same lane, the two cars rhythmically zipping along with only a few car lengths between them.


    **Four laps, son. Get behind your teammate asap!**


    [You have 2 min. 25 sec left for Sync Buff]


    Luca gritted his jaw, his eyes scanning the structured track through his visors like a machine as he plotted his next move against the car ahead. As the saying goes, a corner is a racer''s best friend.


    Luca, very good at bends, was now one with perfection because of Sync Buff. He buzzed around the Nevada Junior racer like a persistent fly, positioning himself for an optimal exit. He felt his tires gripping the outer track, maintaining the necessary friction to keep him moving.


    Strength and Endurance came to play as Luca shot past, darting ahead of the driver just as the track straightened. The Nevada racer was forced to slow down and cut in to avoid a collision.


    Luca regained control of his wheel as his tires began to skid. He tilted sharply, the nose of his car brushing against the side of the 3rd position''s vehicle. He wondered if he could pull off a double overtake in just a few seconds.


    He aimed to ignore the defiance of his tires as he hit the DRS, surging forward into the gap ahead. But the driver in front sensed the threatening engine behind him and cut off his line, blocking his path.


    [50th Lap]


    [4th Position]


    "...and how about that! Rennick is showing the fans exactly why their tickets are worth every penny. I''m on my feet, and so are they! The leaderboard may be set, but is that really how it will end...?"


    [You have 1 min. 30 sec left for Sync Buff]


    Luca reassured himself that his Sync Buff would last until the end of the race. He and the driver in 3rd position were locked in a fierce battle for dominance, his eyes set on Ansel, who he had given some breathing space by making it difficult for his opponent behind to advance.


    The two competing cars drifted wildly, smoke billowing into the afternoon air as the crowd roared in response. Luca''s car was almost matching his opponent, but his opponent still had the middle lane leverage, while he risked the edge of the track.


    "...a rough day for Sean Aaronson, wouldn''t you agree, Jon?"


    "...absolutely. He had fought his way up to second place, but now slipping back to third means he''s in a fierce battle for the podium against a rookie..."


    Luca''s car edged its way into the grid as they rounded the lap, igniting a spark of hope within him. He found himself on the left, while his rival occupied the right. Until now, the advantage had been with his opponent, but it was finally Luca''s turn to make a move. The track shifted from a right-hander to a left-right configuration, ultimately positioning Luca in the middle lane.


    This forced his rival to the outer edge, effectively reversing their positions and giving Luca the chance to take the lead.


    Sync Buff was still in Manifestation as the final lap approached its end.


    "Push yourself, Rennick!"


    "...and it''s Addams who takes first place¡­!"


    "WOOOHHHH!" The crowd erupted in excitement.


    "...Hahn crosses the grid for second¡­!"


    "WOOOHHHH!" The fans cheered once more.


    Luca''s foot didn''t leave the throttle, his eyes locked on the salivating checkered flag waving for his car to cross the grid. He could hear the frustrated roar of the engine beside him, but it wasn''t just beside him anymore¡ªLuca had made excellent use of the favorable lane.

 Chapter 33 German Grand Prix 5 Podium Dreams

    Luca pounded his palm against the steering wheel repeatedly as his car rolled to a stop, his heart racing in sync with the thunderous roar of the crowd that filled the air above Bad Rauenburg, Germany."Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" he shouted, his voice reverberating inside his helmet, adrenaline coursing through him as the reality of his finish sank in. The sound of his triumph echoed through the cockpit, a moment of pure, uncontainable joy.


    "... what a last-second surge for the third spot on the podium! The Trampos Racing rookie just squeezes in behind Hatcherk''s Aaronson and claims third, right after his teammate Hahn! Unbelievable...!"


    "...the artistry is something I have never seen, Steve. I must say, I am quite surprised...!"


    "...and Trampos Racing will celebrate, won''t they, Jon? What a wonderful start to the season with both drivers finishing in the top 3. 18 points for Ansel Hahn and 15 points for Luca Rennick. Don''t forget, folks, while the young Italian lad was on a roll, he also gathered 2 extra points for the fastest lap..."


    "...so, you''re telling me Trampos has 35 points now, Steve...?"


    ".... exactly! But let''s not overlook the reigning champions. Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Junior Team''s Max Addams has emerged with 25 points, while his teammate, Dani Walding, finished 7th, tallying their team''s score to 31. That is pretty close, though..."


    "...indeed. As the falling pack now makes its way over the grid, we can call it race over for today..."


    [Congratulations, host! You have made a podium!]


    Luca''s heart swelled with joy as he rested his helmeted head against the steering wheel, the ache in his knuckles a small price to pay for the overwhelming sense of accomplishment. His eyes caught the faint glow of his System interface, and there it was, the confirmation he had longed for.


    [3RD POSITION]


    He exhaled shakily, a rush of emotion threatening to overtake him. His breath trembled with the sheer joy of his achievement. Clenching his fists, he screamed internally, "I fucking did it!!"


    **Good job, good job. You deserve a hotel room full of women. That was wonderful, you have indeed claimed a spot in this team. I''ll make sure Mr. Grant sees to that**


    With a surge of energy, Luca pushed himself out of the cockpit. The crowd''s roar became an all-consuming wave of sound as he rose, unstrapping his helmet and stepping onto the asphalt. His gaze swept over the cool-down lane, littered with the weary, parked single-seaters of the twenty-eight other drivers who had fought tooth and nail in the race.


    "WOOHH OOH! WOOH OHH! WOOOHHHH OOH!"


    The atmosphere was electric, buzzing with life as the theme song for that season¨C"Born to Be Wild" by Steppenwolf¨Cbegan playing in the background. The grandstands erupted with cheers, chants, and the waving of team flags as fans celebrated, their excitement reverberating through the crisp air.


    Luca could see his fellow drivers already out of their cars, removing their helmets and revealing their faces. Some bore expressions of elation or disappointment, while others showed relief that the grueling 1 hour, 20-minute race was finally over.


    In the midst of all the faces, Luca''s eyes caught Ansel''s. The German was waving back to the crowd, pumping his fist in celebration. He had a good reaction for someone who finished 2nd. Locking eyes with Luca in the crowd of single-seaters, the two Trampos Racing drivers walked toward each other with euphoric calm, smiles on their faces.


    Dabbing another handshake, they nudged their shoulders again, unable to hear each other''s words due to the ear-piercing noise from the grandstands. Luca could tell Ansel was just as happy to see him on the podium as he was to be there himself.


    Luca caught the gaze of Miles staring at him, his golden helmet still in his grasp. The disdainful frown on his face was unmistakable after finishing sixth.


    Serves you right, Luca sneered inwardly, but he chose not to lock gazes with him. He wanted to savor the moment of his top-three victory.


    Moments later, the pit crew from various teams buzzed onto the track, attending to their respective drivers.


    Luca spotted Mr. Grant in their team''s garage, his proud but stern face framed by a black cap, arms folded as he stared across the asphalt where the racers stood. Mr. Moritz was already running toward them, his face beaming with excitement as his glasses nearly slipped off his nose.


    Luca''s mind was reeling with joy. The exhilaration felt almost surreal, like a dream he was still waking from. Fans leaned over the barriers, shouting names, waving hats and scarves¡ªanything they could find to capture the moment. Luca noticed two kids beckoning him to come closer, but before he could respond, Moritz grabbed him, pulling him eagerly to the paddock for a congratulatory review.


    -------------------


    Celebrations erupted immediately after the race. In motorsport, especially following a Featured Race, it was tradition to honor the top three finishers with a podium ceremony¡ªa quick event where the drivers who had pushed their limits would bask in the glory of the crowd and the flashing lights of television cameras.


    The podium was mounted at the end of the track, a towering stage adorned with team logos and shimmering sponsor banners. The massive grandstands loomed behind it, filled with thousands of fans still riding the high of the race. Luca stood off to the side, feeling the weight of the moment sink in as he waited for his name to be called.


    "Third place, representing Trampos Racing¡ªLUCA RENNICK!" the announcer''s voice boomed through the loudspeakers.


    The crowd responded with deafening cheers as Luca took a deep breath and climbed the steps to the podium. His heart was pounding with disbelief. This was his first podium finish, his first real moment in the spotlight. Though it was F2 and not F1, it didn''t matter.


    Ansel gave him a nod from the right, where he stood in second place. Luca smiled and shifted his gaze to the center of the podium, where Addams stood proudly, raising his arms in victory and waving to the crowd.


    He had made it to his first podium, and the world was watching!


    Champagne bottles were handed out for the celebration. The crowd swelled their roar as Addams uncorked his, the golden liquid spraying out in a joyful eruption. Luca had no idea how to uncork a bottle himself and wondered how costly they might be. He planned on saving it, but Ansel refused to let him miss out, pleading with an official to help uncork Luca''s bottle.


    Pffffffttttttttt!!!!


    "...and there we have it. First, Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Junior Team''s Max Addams, with Trampos Racing''s boys, Ansel Hahn and Luca Rennick claiming second and third, respectively. What a wonderful afternoon here at the Bergwaldring Circuit..." S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...indeed. The celebrations shall continue in Bad Rauenburg, Germany. The next time we have the cars on track will be in Melbourne, Australia. This season''s championship is just getting started!"

 Chapter 34 C Is For Champion, Right?

    Four days after the German Grand Prix, Luca was approached with a personal sponsorship offer from Fijee, an energy drink company that generally sponsored Trampos Racing. Luca''s teammates, Ansel and Haas, were already affiliated with the beverage company, so getting in touch with Luca was not difficult. He was about to secure his first official sponsorship, though Mr.Fisher kept his word and paid him a whopping sum of $5,000 just the day after the race.


    Even with all the euphoria, the short press interviews, and the shower of love from the entire Trampos Racing crew, Luca still made time to keep up with his System''s Routine and Quests, missing not a single step.


    He couldn''t believe he was slowly going from grass to grace and was now able to provide for himself and his family. Just the other day, he had spoken to his mother and sister¡ªon a video call, in fact. It had been a long, unending conversation, and Luca was glad to hear the happiness in their voices, though he could tell the slight hint of concern.


    Luca''s first order to his mother was that they leave their apartment and move to a more suitable place. He also made it clear that provisions for Sophia''s college should be made early enough. He was determined to ensure she would have all the educational opportunities he could never have again.


    Overall, he promised she and their mother would have a better life¡ªa life far better than what they once had.


    Luca adjusted the knot of his tie for the hundredth time while staring at himself in the exquisite mirror. He was dressed in an all-black suit with a black tie that made him look like a mob character. He was in a hotel room in Mitte, Berlin, waiting for his agent, Mr. Mallow, to return. Mallow was setting up the meeting place with the representatives of Fijee in the hotel''s grand dining hall.


    Luca felt uneasy as he adjusted his tie again, his eyes flickering to the time on his phone. It read 7:15 pm, Thursday of the second week of March. The German Grand Prix was over, and Australia was next. By the following week, Luca would find himself on a plane, crossing the face of the globe once again.


    He shrugged at the thought, finally lowering his hands and staring at his reflection. What the heck? he thought, leaning closer to the mirror to inspect his face. Puberty had found Luca''s address late, and he was more than surprised to see that his moustache was now evident. To be sure, he fumbled around the table for a hand-sized mirror and brought it to his face. Marvellous!


    Luca gave himself one last glance before calling out to Sara, who was seated on a chair next to the master bed, her legs crossed as she focused on her phone. "When is Mr. Mallow coming?" Luca asked. "It''s been almost an hour."


    "Relax, Luca," Sara responded, looking up from her phone. "Occasions like this usually take time. I know you want to make it to the get-together party. Me, I just wanna sleep," she said with a yawn. "Assessing and drafting your new bank records is tiring, and my brain is stressed."


    "Oh, sorry," Luca muttered, turning back toward the mirror. Sara was right. He was looking forward to the F2 drivers'' get-together event tonight. It was a one-night occasion organized by the Federation at the start of the season so the drivers could meet with their spouses, get to know each other, and build sportsmanship early on.


    Ansel said he''d be there, and Luca couldn''t wait to meet the other drivers from the F2 teams. OLAC''s team would attend as well, which meant Luca could finally see Harry again. He felt bad for Harry, knowing the team hadn''t assigned him as a periodic driver. Instead, Harry had been placed as one of the few reserves.


    "System display," Luca said softly, staring at his reflection. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [ANALYSING DATA AND ATTRIBUTES...]


    [Welcome.]


    "Thank you," he replied as the interface obscured his view of the mirror. He navigated to his [STATUS] and selected it. Luca wanted to review the progress he had made, especially with the week coming to an end.


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Personal Information:


    Name: Luca Rennick


    Age: 18


    Nationality: Italian ]


    --------------------------------------


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 71kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 32%


    Strength: 14


    Stamina: 15


    Endurance: 17


    Agility: 13


    Intelligence: 14 ]


    --------------------------------------


    [Personal Stats:


    Nickname: None


    Status: 2 year contract


    Salary: $53,000


    Team: Trampos Racing


    Race Win: 0


    Podium Finishes: 1


    Pole Positions: 0]


    ------------------------------------------


    [Skills & Techniques: Total Grade - C


    Reflexes: 17


    Overtaking Skill: 19


    Track Awareness: 13


    Pitstop Prodigy: 3


    Others (Locked) ]


    Luca smirked, satisfied and glad that his Grading had climbed to C. He had achieved his first Podium Finish, and his Personal Stats were beginning to take shape. Although his Race Wins still stood at zero, Luca felt like a winner after the recent race. However, the blinking Mission to win his first official race was a stern reminder that there was still more to achieve.


    The hotel room door swung open, and Mr. Mallow stepped inside, dressed in a black tracksuit with matching black trainers. It seemed as though their color theme was black because Sara, seated next to the bed, looked like a mourning widow.


    ----------------------------------------


    Luca''s sponsorship offer was relatively identical to his Trampos Racing contract in terms of Annual Salary and duration. He was offered $53,000 for the first year, with the possibility of an increase if he performed exceptionally well throughout the season, just as he had in the last race. Bonuses were awarded for podium finishes and race wins¡ª$5,250 and $10,500 respectively.


    An additional $21,000 bonus awaited if he placed in the top five of the overall F2 championship standings.


    Fijee also agreed to cover 50% of his travel and accommodation expenses. In addition, he would receive a generous supply of their energy drinks.


    In return, Luca and Trampos Racing were expected to brandish Fijee''s logo on more spots across Luca''s helmet, car, and race suit. He would also be required to participate in their campaigns and events during his free time.


    Luca could hardly believe it as he and Mallow shook hands with Fijee''s management.


    Back in their hotel room, they packed their small bags, ready to leave. Luca''s mind buzzed with excitement and joy that he struggled to contain. He glanced at Sara with a mischievous grin.


    "Could you do me a favor?" he asked.


    "My jolly. You''re making me a rich woman, and I won''t accept?" Sara replied.


    Luca chuckled, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as they made their way down the stairs. "Could you be my spouse for tonight''s event?" he asked with a playful bow.

 Chapter 35 Championship Prelude

    The dinner event was to be held at iVax Plaza in Mitte, a top-tier sponsor of both Formula 1 and Formula 2 racing. The same venue that hosted the F1 drivers'' get-together was now prepped for the feeder boys, offering them a similar glimpse of grandeur.Luca arrived with Sara in a sleek, black taxi¡ªhis flamboyant chariot for the night, since he still didn''t own a car. Convincing Sara to accompany him had been a near-impossible task, given how much she had begged for sleep and rest. But Luca''s persistent pleas had worked. After all, how cool would it look to walk into the hall with a tall, older woman on his arm?


    He grinned wildly at the thought, the soft glow of a building''s lights reflecting off the window and illuminating his face.


    This felt like it was going to be something like his first real date, in some sense. Back then, things with Hanna had never materialized into anything substantial. Miles Bellingham, however, would surely bring her along tonight. That thought caused Luca to scoff as he shook his head in mild irritation.


    He turned his gaze to the British beauty seated next to him, the elegant profile of Sara illuminated by passing streetlights. Luca inhaled deeply, exhaled, and smiled as he leaned back, content to enjoy the ride. His phone buzzed in his lap, snapping him from his reverie.


    He checked the recent message he had, and it was Ansel, asking him to hurry up. Ansel had made it to the venue already and had taken a seat. Luca replied accordingly.


    Another notification caught his attention¡ªan email from Mr. Fisher. The subject line read: "Travel Itinerary - Melbourne GP". Luca skimmed through the details, finding the contents similar to any other flight trip¡ªjust more tedious and sophisticated. There were instructions about early flights, charter schedules, and protocols, all tailored to the demands of the upcoming race in Australia.


    As he closed the email, Luca instinctively switched to the season''s standings to see how things stood between the teams before Melbourne. His thumb scrolled slowly across the screen, the bright screen lighting up his face in the car''s darkness as the streetlights outside zipped by.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    --------------------------------------------------------------- sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    1. | Trampos Racing | 35


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 31


    3. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 14


    4. | Nevada HanSama Jnr | 11


    5. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 9


    Luca nodded thoughtfully as he absorbed the details on his phone. These were the teams to watch, and he knew they''d become familiar opponents over the course of his F2 career. His gaze lingered on OLAC Racing¡ªHarry''s team¡ªsitting disappointingly in 14th place with just a single point.


    That''s harsh, Luca thought with a sigh, slipping his phone back into his suit pocket. The taxi glided smoothly to a halt in front of the grand plaza, its headlights illuminating the polished marble steps. Well-dressed guests flowed in and out of the towering glass doors, their chatter lively yet refined.


    The atmosphere here was vibrant but far more relaxed than what he had observed the previous night. Yes, Luca had intentionally taken a cab past the plaza back then, just to catch a glimpse of the successful F1 racers arriving in their million-dollar supercars.


    Luca opened his door and stepped out confidently. He shut the door behind him, then walked around the taxi to open the door for Sara.


    "May I take your hand, m''lady?" Luca asked with a smirk, mimicking a British accent as he extended his hand toward her.


    "Don''t you make this a thing," Sara grumbled, accepting his hand as he aided her out of the car.


    Luca waved to the cab driver, knowing he had paid pre-ride, and he managed to speak grateful, basic German words he had learnt to him, which the man replied heartfully.


    "May I have the honor? Please take my arm, Mrs. Rennick," Luca sneered, hoisting his arm for Sara to take.


    Sara scoffed but didn''t hesitate, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm. "You must add this to my paycheck," she muttered.


    The two walked up the stairs toward the security at the main glass doors. It was difficult to see anybody in the darkness of the evening, but their voices, the white dress shirt beneath their suits and cufflinks, served a good purpose.


    Luca was screened and confirmed as an F2 driver from Trampos Racing before being allowed inside. The empty lobby next gleamed under golden chandeliers, showcasing priceless accessories on display. A security guard motioned for Luca and Sara to take an escalator leading to the event space.


    At the top, Luca stepped into a darker, more intimate setting. Soft music hummed in the background, with red and purple ambient lighting casting subtle glows across the room. A disco ball spun slowly at the center, scattering fragmented light over the gathering.


    Luca scanned the area. It was like a blend of a convention and a bar party¡ªsoft chatter filled the air, and a small but wide stage stood at the far end of the space.


    He pulled out his phone and dialed Ansel, hoping to locate him among the crowd of young stars and their partners murmuring quietly to each other. Ansel picked up right away and guided Luca to where he and his fianc¨¦e were seated along the wall. Thoughtfully, Ansel had already reserved two extra seats for Luca and his spouse.


    "It''s nice to meet you," Luca greeted Ansel''s fianc¨¦e as they approached. She was unmistakably German too, her features sharp and striking, dressed elegantly in an indigo gown. Ansel, by contrast, wore a simple all-black ensemble¡ªhandsome but unassuming, as always.


    What really caught Ansel off guard, though, was Sara. His surprise was plain as he took in her appearance¡ªtall, mature, and striking enough that she could easily be mistaken for Luca''s aunt.


    "It''s a pleasure," Ansel said, offering a polite nod toward Sara as everyone took their seats on the plush chairs. "Luca is very lucky."


    "Thank you," Sara managed to mutter, side-eyeing Luca wickedly.


    They were served light refreshments, and Luca, as usual, made sure to get clearance from his System before ingesting anything. While chatting with Ansel, he cast glances around the room, observing the mix of youthful, athletic figures. His gaze landed on Max Addams at one end, basking in the attention as several people gathered around him.


    Luca noted that it wasn''t just the drivers in attendance¡ªimportant figures from the championship and others connected to F2 crowded the space, adding weight to the atmosphere.


    After a few minutes, the guests were asked to take their seats for a presentation on the stage. The presentation dragged on for what felt like thirty minutes to an hour, covering the history of Formula 1 and its feeder series. Luca had no doubt the same presentation had been shown to the F1 drivers the previous night.


    Bored as he was, he understood the purpose¡ªthe Federation wanted racers to grasp the deeper essence of motorsport before the season advanced to its apex.


    His attention piqued when the presenter shifted to the fallen racers who had tragically lost their lives on the track. Luca''s ears perked up as he listened closely, hoping to hear a familiar name.


    "Aldo Rennick, The Rocket, Nevada HanSama."


    Relief washed over Luca at the mention of his father''s name. He glanced around, expecting someone to react, maybe look at him. But it seemed the similar last name didn''t trigger recognition¡ªeither "Rennick" was just a common Italian surname, or no one had connected the dots. After all, namesakes weren''t unusual in the racing world.


    Then came the reading of last season''s Hall of Fame, accompanied by polite applause that echoed through the room. This was where Luca''s mood shifted.


    His father''s name wasn''t among the honorees.


    Wasn''t Aldo Rennick good enough to be remembered as a great F1 driver?


    Confusion furrowed Luca''s brows as he stared at the presenter, now descending the stage and disappearing into the dimly lit room.


    Without a word, Luca humbly excused himself from the table and made his way to the bar. Sliding onto a barstool, he slumped forward, rubbing his temple. Even I''m starting to feel sleepy now, he thought, exhaling heavily.


    "At least can I take one glass of tequila? I''m old enough to drink when I want, and we don''t have a race in the championship until next week," Luca asked his System.


    [Very well, host.]


    [One glass is all you are allowed to ingest. Such a drink has too high alcohol levels, host.]


    Luca nodded and ordered it from the bartender. He stared at the liquor briefly, weighing it in his mind before tossing it back in one gulp. Blech! What in the world is this shite?


    Luca grimaced, displeasure evident as he shoved the glass back toward the bartender. He hadn''t expected it to taste this bad¡ªchampagne definitely seemed like the better option. Gagging slightly, he decided he''d rather stick with soda or fruit juices, even if some might find that childish.


    "One glass of malt drink, please," Luca said, raising his index finger.


    The bartender nodded and got to work, soon placing a glass of malt in front of Luca, who also requested a straw.


    Stirring the straw idly, Luca scanned the room with a sharp, conscious eye. The fake smiles and hollow laughter were all too obvious. It felt like most people here were counting the minutes until they could leave. He began to wonder if the Federation had set this gathering up with an ulterior motive¡ªperhaps to give the drivers a chance to size up their rivals more intimately.


    Clusters of twos and threes dotted the room, but there wasn''t much real energy between anyone.


    Luca''s gaze continued sweeping the space, still searching for Harry or Miles, when it landed on a familiar figure. For a moment, he didn''t recognize her¡ªuntil her distinctive facial features clicked in his mind. It was Isabella, making her way toward him in a sleek, revealing black dress that flowed to her shins. Her hair, no longer tied up, cascaded freely to her pale neck.


    What is she doing here?


    Isabella smiled warmly as she placed her purse on the table and slid into the barstool next to Luca. "Good evening, Mister," she said, her gaze drifting over his all-black attire before flicking toward his drink. "I recognized your stance from across the room. But you know you shouldn''t drink that so close to an Executive. They''ll take little out of you."


    Luca chuckled, blinking to confirm it was really the same girl from Birmingham speaking to him. How fate works. "Isabella, this is a surprise," he said, still slightly disbelieving.


    "No, I''m the one who''s surprised to see you," Isabella responded, extending her hand gracefully. Her nails were painted a deep red, and a delicate bangle dangled loosely from her wrist. "In fact, I should congratulate you."


    Luca reached out, praying his cursed hands weren''t clammy.


    "Congratulations on finishing first in Grey-Husson''s program¡ªand for making the podium in the last race. You were fantastic," Isabella continued with a sincere smile.


    Luca fought back a replying smile, biting his lower lip to avoid looking too pleased. Her hand felt softer than he''d expected, much more delicate than someone who likely spent hours working with machinery. He held the handshake a beat too long, staring at her slender frame, before releasing it.


    Then, a nagging thought crept into his mind. He frowned. "What are you doing here? Are you... dating one of the racers?"


    Isabella shook her head, politely declining a drink from the bartender. "I''m single, Luca," she replied.


    Good. Relief.


    "But it seems you''re taken." Isabella''s words cut through Luca''s thoughts of relief. He looked up at her to catch her gaze somewhere else, at his table with Ansel. "She''s old enough to be your eldest sister," Isabella observed with a raised brow. "You are really sharp."


    Ahhhhhhh, fuck. Luca wasn''t sure if he should tell Isabella that Sara wasn''t really his fianc¨¦e, just a part of tonight''s little charade. For all he knew, Isabella might actually be interested in him, and exposing the truth could either intrigue her¡ªor ruin whatever respect she held for him. After a brief internal struggle, he decided to let it slide. With a subtle nod, he responded to her remark.


    "My father''s Bellingham''s No. 1 endorser¡ªdid you forget?" Isabella arched a brow, clearly amused. Tilting her head slightly, she gestured toward a busy corner of the room. "He''s right there with him. So, whenever Dad has to attend events like these, I either tag along... or get dragged along."


    "Oh, I see," Luca muttered, squinting through the dim, shifting disco lights to spot Miles. The poor guy didn''t look pleased¡ªhow could he, after finishing sixth?


    Isabella let out a tired sigh and slipped gracefully off the barstool, standing at about 5''5". She adjusted her purse, tucking it between both palms. "Alright, Luca. I''ll see you whenever¡ªand wherever¡ªthe championship schedule takes us next," she said.


    "You are still working as a mechanic?"


    "Mhmm."


    "Alright, then... Can I have your number now?" Luca asked, his breath caught in his throat.


    A playful smile spread across Isabella''s lips. She leaned in softly and gave him a mischievous look, lips forming an exaggerated ''O.'' "Mister, don''t tell me you''re the cheating kind?!"


    Oh, c''mon that''s not real. "I can assure you I''m not," Luca replied smoothly, keeping his tone steady. "I genuinely want your contact."


    Isabella shrugged after staring intently at him, then called out her number, making sure he noted it down before saying goodbye again. She walked back toward the edge of the room from where she had come, leaving Luca momentarily spellbound as he stared throughout.


    Suddenly, a hard slap on his back jolted him back to reality. He turned to see Harry''s snickering face behind him, his eyes sparkling with mischief.


    "My man!"


    -----------------------


    Luca introduced Harry to Ansel and vice versa. The three of them fell into an easy conversation, discussing their contracts, recent career developments, and the intricacies of the racing world with Luca and Harry dominating the conversation.


    As they spoke, soft laughter and chatter filled the room, interspersed with the occasional clink of glasses and upbeat music pulsing in the background. The energy was palpable through the event, though Luca noticed the exhaustion setting in for some. The night was lively, but there was an underlying sense of anticipation as many of the attendees seemed eager for it to wrap up.


    Eventually, as the clock inched closer to 11 PM, the get-together came to an end. By then, Sara had almost passed out on the table.

 Chapter 36 Helmets On, Jetlag Off

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]The day after the dinner party was scheduled for their flight to Australia, and Luca got to his feet as soon as his System rang for the day. He quickly began his Daily Routine and headed straight to the facility''s gym. When finished, he sneaked in a can of Fijee before even having breakfast. Luckily, his System tolerated the indulgence and spared him from any punishment.


    Greeting the staff of Trampos Racing, who were busy preparing for the afternoon flight, Luca could sense their collective satisfaction with him¡ªeveryone except for Haas and the American. Both seemed bitter, likely because he had snatched away yet another seasonal chance for them to secure a top division spot in motorsport. This animosity didn''t bother Luca.


    Though he had made some attempts to smooth things over, he figured as long as they weren''t his teammates while on the track, there wasn''t much point in forcing a good relationship.


    After a refreshing cold morning bath, Luca treated himself to breakfast: mashed sweet potatoes topped with flaked grilled salmon, drizzled with olive oil and a sprinkle of chili flakes for that extra kick and flavor.


    He sat on the edge of his bed, the soft German morning sunlight filtering through the clear windows and pooling across his bedspread. Checking his phone, Luca responded to messages and frowned at several missed calls from his mother and sister. With a sigh, he swiped away the notifications¡ªhe knew this would happen the moment his sister got her hands on a phone.


    Moving on, Luca reviewed more pressing messages. Mallow confirmed that he would be flying to Melbourne with Sara tagging along. As part of his team, it was their job to shadow him across the globe. The next message was from Harry, who seemed fond of sending random videos from these new platforms that spanned worldwide social interaction.


    As always, the clips were incomprehensible to Luca, and he found none funny or even relatable. With an exasperated sigh, he skimmed through the rest of the messages about flight arrangements and seat assignments on Trampos Racing''s private jet. Satisfied with the orderliness, Luca powered off his phone and got dressed.


    He pulled on a sleek tracksuit in the colors of Trampos Racing, grabbed his little MP3 player, and clipped the compact device to the zipper of his jacket. Opting for his usual vibe, he slipped in his earpieces, gathered his belongings, and dashed out into the bright morning sun.


    -----------------------------


    The plane took off around 11 a.m. once everyone was nestled inside. Ansel arrived in his car, driven by his fianc¨¦e, and gave her a wave goodbye before boarding. As they settled into their seats, Ansel leaned toward Luca and asked why he hadn''t bought a home yet and was still living at headquarters.


    Luca shrugged off the question, seeing no reason to tie himself down with a property that would endlessly drain his account. Living at the headquarters, which came at no personal cost, made far more sense to him.


    The journey to Melbourne required three connecting flights. The first leg took them from Berlin to Frankfurt, followed by Frankfurt to Dubai, and finally, from Dubai to their destination in the wonderful country of Oz. The entire trip spanned 21 exhausting hours, with a few minor delays stretching the total travel time to 22 hours.


    By the time they reached Melbourne, Luca swore he could no longer feel his legs.


    They touched down in Melbourne just past mid-morning. The airport buzzed with life, full of travelers coming and going, but fatigue was etched into the faces of Luca and the others. They moved quickly through customs, retrieving their luggage and weaving through the crowd toward the exit.


    Waiting outside was a reserved shuttle, ready to take them directly to their accommodation. They piled in without hesitation, grateful for the smooth transition. As the shuttle rolled through the city, the streets blurred past in a kaleidoscope of bustling pedestrians, cars, and shops.


    The warm Australian sun cast long shadows across the urban landscape, palm trees swaying gently beneath the open sky.


    Luca wished he had an ultra camera with him.


    As they left the busy core of the city behind, the scene grew quieter, giving way to the relaxed rhythm of the suburbs. Within the hour, the shuttle pulled into a modern training facility set aside by the Federation for their use. From the outside, it bore a striking resemblance to Grey-Husson''s headquarters, though it was notably smaller and featured more muted, dimmed colors.


    The shuttle made a smooth circle around the complex, passing a few officials already moving about, their steps brisk and purposeful. Eventually, it came to a stop in front of a sleek white building that stood out as the centerpiece of the facility. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And just like that, Luca thought.


    The team sighed collectively and disembarked.


    "We have four days till race day," Mr. Grant grunted in his usual gloomy tone. He addressed the four drivers¡ªLuca, Ansel, Haas, and the younger American, Victor¡ªwithout even glancing at them. As he exchanged handshakes with the officials at the training facility, he motioned for the boys to do the same. "Don''t think today''s off. We get in our cars by noon.


    Go freshen up."


    Luca groaned inwardly. He had spent almost a full day in the air and would''ve killed for a few more hours of sleep to make up for it. But instead of voicing his frustration, he quietly followed Mr. Moritz and the others into the quarters assigned to them.


    After dropping off his belongings, Luca took a late breakfast, feeling grateful that his System hadn''t punished him for missing the previous day''s Daily Quest or falling short on today''s Daily Routine. The long flight had completely thrown everything off track, and his System seemed to understand, sparing him any penalties.


    Australian Grand Prix


    Location: Melbourne, Australia


    Date: Mar. 22


    Track: George Park Circuit


    Luca scrolled through the race details displayed on his phone before sending a quick message to Mallow and Sara to let them know he had arrived safely in Australia. Afterward, he powered off his phone and got ready.


    In the locker room, Luca and Ansel suited up in their training racing gear¡ªa sleek black-and-red ensemble, the alternating colors of their official race suits.


    Just a few minutes past noon, the two young men slipped on their helmets and gloves, fastening the straps securely. With the sun casting an orange glow across the distant horizon, they made their way out to the track.


    Mr. Grant and Mr. Moritz stood waiting for them alongside the pit crew staff and engineers.


    Every point mattered this season, and Trampos Racing was determined to leave last year''s disappointments behind. With a veteran from F2 and a rising star who had already claimed a podium finish in his debut, this was their moment to shine and win their very first championship.

 Chapter 37 Block, Surge And Conquer!

    Intense training was carried out for the next three days. Mr. Grant was keen on training his boys on battling the understeer of the George Park Circuit. He was well familiar with the circuit, considering he''s been the Team Principal for a few years, and have managed just a generation of Trampos Racing.Luca spent a lot of time in chicane and hairpin drills, deftly maneuvering the single-seater he was given through the small track of the training facility. His System kept every record of the task he carried out and informed him of his overall score when any was completed.


    Today, Mr. Grant wanted his team to learn and master yet another strategy that was needful for a track like George Park to give them the upper hand at certain circumstances. Luca and Ansel listened closely as he spoke. Haas was with them as well after Mr. Grant said he would be needing more wheels for the training.


    The Robust Formation Strategy was what Mr. Grant called it, though Luca felt it likely had alternative names. The main objective of the strategy when put in simple words was for one driver to deliberately slow down and block a rival, allowing the second driver to gain significant time and overtake.


    Though it might seem easy to the ears, it needed seamless communication between the drivers and precise timing and prediction, because rivals'' movements could be unpredictable at times.


    Before the strategy could be executed, Luca and Ansel would quickly assign their roles depending on who is ahead and who is behind. The one ahead would be the Surge driver, meaning he will be the one to take advantage of any gaps created on the track when the strategy is executed.


    The one behind would likely be the Blocker Driver, focusing on disrupting and holding off key rivals to create space for his teammate.


    For the set-up, the Blocker Driver would likely be adjacently behind the Surger, and simultaneously be before a rival who is threatening to overtake. This would likely keep them in an L-format while zooming down the track.


    To begin their training, there were three roles to be taken: the Surger, the Blocker, and the Rival. Luca and Ansel switched between Surger and Blocker regularly, while Haas maintained his role as the rival opponent threatening to claim a position in the race.


    They got into their respective cars, strapping themselves tightly after all safety measures were taken. The entire Trampos Racing crew that traveled with them stood at the sidelines, where grandstands would typically be during an actual event. The training facility had no bleachers for spectators.


    Analyzing and inspecting the status of his single-seater, Luca''s System deftly synced him with the Dallara.


    Luca gripped his wheel, waiting for Mr. Grant''s command. Their cars were positioned midway through the track to simulate the sudden need to execute the strategy during an official race. Luca played the Blocker Driver, while Ansel took the role of the Surge Driver for the first phase of the training.


    Ansel''s car was positioned just ahead of Luca''s, to replicate the need to accelerate away from pressure. Haas'' car sat behind Luca''s, with the same distance separating them as between Luca and Ansel.


    Mr. Grant ordered them to start their engines and roll slowly down the track, steadily building speed. Somewhere along the way, he would signal the command to initiate the Robust Formation Strategy..


    Once they reached speeds of 250 km/h, Mr. Grant gave the order for Haas to begin pressing toward the cars ahead. Luca accelerated, shifting slightly to position himself defensively and block Haas from overtaking on the inside line.


    This freed Ansel from the pressure, allowing him to manage his car''s status and then surge forward. Luca adjusted his speed, focusing on holding Haas in check. Every time Haas tried to build momentum, Luca cut across just enough to disrupt his line without risking a penalty.


    The seconds stretched on as Ansel gained distance, successfully creating a gap between him and the others.


    The roles were switched repeatedly, with practices continuing on and on while Mr. Grant and Mr. Moritz took careful notes of their progress, assessing secondary strategies to implement as needed.


    Eventually, the sun began to set, casting a softer, mellow light over the circuit. The heat of the day had dissipated, leaving the track bathed in a golden hue. Luca and Ansel were visibly tired as Mr. Grant and Mr. Moritz finally called it a day.


    They retired into the facility to refresh, only to be greeted by members of the F2 press, who had been waiting patiently. Cameras flashed incessantly, and microphones were thrust forward as reporters swarmed around, eager to learn about their training, strategies, and expectations for the upcoming race.


    Luca was still slightly sweaty, though the cool blast of the room''s air conditioning eased the heat from his body as he took a seat behind a white table cluttered with microphones. He sat to the left of Mr. Grant, while Ansel occupied the seat to his right.


    Luca had just learned that the press had been waiting all along for the team to finish their training session before being permitted inside, in accordance with FIA regulations.


    "Mr. Grant, with only a few days left until the Australian Grand Prix, how confident are you in your team''s ability to execute the new strategies you''ve been practicing?" a reporter asked.


    "I''m very confident my team will execute flawlessly in any race we face," Mr. Grant replied smoothly.


    "Luca has been making headlines recently with his rapid progression. Do you see him as a potential frontrunner in the championship, and how are you helping him manage the pressure?"


    "Our new driver might be young, but I can assure you, he''s not feeling the pressure. My boys stay cold even in the heat of their engines," Mr. Grant replied confidently.


    "And do you have any concerns that teams from the higher division might come in and try to snatch him away if he proves to be exceptionally good?"


    Mr. Grant hesitated briefly, his brows twitching before responding. "I''m not going to answer that. We all know Luca is under a two-year contract with us." He gestured toward the next reporter. "Please, let''s move on to the next and final question."


    "Certainly, Mr. Grant. With the radical overhaul that the Federation is proposing, do you worry that this new format and expansion might alter the essence of motorsport, as well as your team''s strategy and your drivers'' experiences on the track? What are your thoughts on the FIA''s latest announcements, and when do you anticipate they might implement these changes?"


    Mr. Grant leaned in on the table, interlocking his fingers as he placed them on the blanketed surface of the table. His stern gaze swept the room as he readied his response. "I''m just a Team Principal of a feeder series team. The FIA''s announcement could involve racing underwater for all I care; this is their sport to manage, and my focus is guiding my team under that framework.


    As for when they will implement these measures, I can''t say. However, I assure you my drivers can navigate any obstacle that comes their way. Thank you, but that will be all for questions."


    A reporter stammered out a follow-up, but Mr. Grant shut it down with a firm shake of his head as he stood. "My drivers will respond to no questions," he stated, leading Luca and Ansel out of the press room.


    Luca was just realizing the weight each race carried, even in Formula 2. He would be racing a total of 12 or 13 races this season¡ªassuming Mr. Grant kept letting Haas take the wheel for the Sprint Races. His thoughts drifted as the evening slowly cloaked the training facility in shadows.


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 Chapter 38 Silent Expectations

    Race Day: Mar. 22, George Park, Melbourne, Australia.Luca had mixed feelings after Mr. Grant confirmed that Erik Haas would be participating in most of the Sprint Races to build his ability and track awareness, ensuring he wouldn''t remain a dormant driver. The problem was that Sprint Races, like the first race of the season, could determine grid positions for the main Featured Race. Luca didn''t want to be stuck behind five cars at the very least.


    Judging from Haas'' potential, it didn''t seem likely he would break into the top five, let alone reach the podium.


    Fortunately for Luca, the grid position for today''s Featured Race wasn''t determined by the Sprint Race but by the final leaderboard from the previous race in Bad Rauenburg. Since Luca had finished third in Germany''s F2 Grand Prix, he was set to start on the inside of row two¡ªa strategic advantage that would help in his pursuit of victory today.


    The team arrived early at George Park Circuit to prepare for the Sprint Race, with other F2 teams showing up at about the same time. Luca considered going to meet Harry for a quick chat, but he knew it would be unconventional, perhaps even unethical, given the circumstances.


    George Park Circuit was drastically different from Bergwaldring, and the contrasts made Luca suspect that new faces might appear on the podium since the track required different strategies. One aspect in Luca''s favor was that George Park consisted of just 46 laps¡ªa relief until a nagging memory struck him as he remembered that he had only reached 6th place by the 46th lap at Bergwaldring.


    The thought left him wishing George Park had more laps to offer.


    The track presented more challenges than Bergwaldring, too: abrupt bends, tight chicanes, hairpin turns, and short, unforgiving straightways. The George Park Circuit was often called the sibling of the Serpeggiare for good reason. Another aspect that unsettled Luca was the closeness of the barricades.


    The grandstands were so near the track they reminded him of bleachers hugging the edge of a wrestling ring. A troubling thought crossed his mind: What if a racer crashes into the crowd?


    Nonetheless, the George Park Circuit was open for racing, with twenty F2 teams ready for the Sprint Race. The crowd was sparse this mid-morning but would undoubtedly swell before the Featured Race. The season''s structure had reverted to its usual format, with F2 races scheduled on Saturdays while F1, branded as the ''main event'' of the weekend, took place on Sundays.


    Luca met with Mallow and his personal assistant, Sara, discussing crucial matters concerning the need to reach the podium or, even better, secure first place in today''s Featured Race.


    The mid-morning sun shone brightly, but its warmth remained soft against the skin as the Sprint Race was set to begin. Luca thought about watching his teammates but decided instead to calm his nerves early by retreating to the locker room deep in their garage. Once there, he turned to his trusty mp3 player, blasting heavy metal music into his ears.


    Nodding softly to the hard, vigorous beats, he let the pounding rhythms drown his thoughts.


    Curiosity soon got the better of him, and Luca grabbed the draft sheet listing the participating drivers from all twenty teams. A peek at the lineup brought him satisfaction¡ªhe spotted the names of Miles and Addams in their respective teams. They were the two racers he intended to outdo today.


    He''d heard that Addams had nearly reached F1 last season, only to miss the chance due to some unfortunate circumstances. So, it all came down to the fact that Max Addams was F1 potential already.


    Luca exhaled deeply.


    The Sprint Race ended just before noon. Even through the loudness of his music, Luca could make out the muffled roar of the now-packed grandstands. He pulled out his earpiece as Ansel and Haas entered the locker room.


    As expected, Ansel''s face remained neutral and expressionless, just like always, while Haas looked visibly displeased and frustrated. The German angrily tossed his helmet aside before storming out of the locker room through the other door. A crew member quietly picked up the discarded helmet and placed it back where it belonged.


    Chill, man. It''s just a Sprint Race, Luca mused, watching Haas stomp away in fury. He later found out that Ansel had astonishingly finished first, while Haas had ended up in seventh¡ªa result Ansel bluntly described as "disgraceful."


    Luca couldn''t help but wonder what Mr. Grant saw in Erik Haas that justified continuing to place the German in Sprint Races. If the goal was to foster improvement, Luca doubted it would happen, considering Haas had been on the team almost as long as Ansel and still wasn''t showing progress.


    After congratulating Ansel on his victory, Luca apologized for skipping the race and staying in the locker room, listening to ''Master of Puppets'' by Metallica. Ansel merely laughed off the apology before starting to undress from his racing suit, preparing to refresh himself for the Featured Race, which was scheduled to begin in two hours.


    With little else to do, Luca figured he would wait until Ansel was ready for their personal teammate briefing, after which they''d both suit up for the main race. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    To pass the time, Luca switched on his phone and opened the candy game app that Sara had installed for him. He wasn''t particularly good at it, but the game''s intuitive user interface made it easy to learn.


    Surprisingly, he found himself on a winning streak when a familiar figure approached and sat beside him. It was none other than Mr. Grant, his Team Principal.


    Luca instantly switched off his phone and yanked out his earpiece. "Sir?"


    Mr. Grant cleared his throat as he leaned back against the wall. "Some would call that a crude device," he remarked, glancing at Luca''s mp3 player. "We are gradually leaving that age behind."


    Luca chuckled, coiling the wire of his earpiece and placing it beside the mp3 player. "Until we do, sir, I''ll still make use of it," he replied. "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"


    "Definitely," Mr. Grant said, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. "It''s just a stern reminder of why I personally pushed Mr. Fisher to fund the scouts and send them all the way to Birmingham."


    Luca didn''t have the nerve to meet Mr. Grant''s gaze, so he focused on the metal frame of a locker while the 41-year-old man spoke.


    "I can''t speak for others, but for me, being a Team Principal isn''t just about the numbers, fame, or accolades. Many of us do it because we know the feeling of sitting back on a couch after retirement, watching old clips of the icon we groomed lifting trophies and claiming podiums," Mr. Grant explained.


    "Denko Rutherford, one of my drivers last season, now races for Haddock Racing in the main division. I want to groom both Ansel and you the same way. And from what I''ve seen, you might just make my job easier. Keep it up, Luca. The more you elevate the team, the more secure your place will be in every race."


    Luca felt like his mind was slow to process Mr. Grant''s words, but the meaning finally clicked at the last second. He turned to glance at the man and started to say, "Thank y¡ª"


    But Mr. Grant didn''t wait. He stood up abruptly and strode out of the room, his lean figure moving like a shadow. For a moment, Luca wondered if Mr. Grant had once been a driver himself.

 Chapter 39 Silent Expectations 2

    An hour later, Ansel returned to the locker room, looking refreshed and ready for the race. He slung a towel over his shoulder as he dropped onto the bench beside Luca. "Guess who''s got 7% of the votes to win today''s race?" Ansel asked, raising a brow with a short smirk.Luca didn''t need to think hard to understand the implication. His lips twisted into a frown. "Me? 7% of the people here at George Park bet on me to win?"


    "Yep, number 21," Ansel confirmed with a soft smile. "Aren''t you happy you''ve got a portion of the crowd believing you''ll cross the finish line first?"


    The George Park Circuit holds about 85,000 spectators. Let''s say 70,000 of them are eligible to place bets. That means almost 5,000 people think I''ll win? What the....Screw whatever Mr. Grant said to the press earlier¡ªI don''t like this kind of pressure. "And what happens if I don''t cross the line first?


    They lose all their money, right?"


    "Not exactly," Ansel replied with a casual shrug. "It depends on how much they placed and whether they made follow-up bets on other drivers. But yeah, in the end, they won''t walk away with what they were hoping for. Don''t sweat it. Their decision, their problem. I''ve disappointed bettors plenty of times.


    It''s just part of the game."


    Luca gave a slow nod. "And how many people bet on you to take first place?"


    Ansel leaned his head back with a small groan. "Ah, nothing crazy¡ªjust 13.5%. Addams is the real favorite this time with 44%. Aaronson''s got 17%, which is annoyingly higher than me. Addams'' teammate snagged 8%, and then there''s your old Grey-Husson buddy, the young face of England they say..."


    "Miles Bellingham," Luca muttered bitterly. He loathed that nickname.


    "Yes, him. 6% are on his side. That''s some strong belief," Ansel said, rising to his feet.


    For someone who finished sixth in the last Featured Race and has no F2 history, that really is some strong belief. Luca sighed and stood as well. He and Ansel kept up their chatter as they got dressed in their racing suits, discussing how they would implement both team and personal strategies during the race.


    Luca effortlessly slipped into his suit, the snug material hugging his body as he adjusted the collar. The Velcro on his cuffs secured with a sharp rip, and he pulled on his gloves, flexing his fingers to test the tight grip. A quick stretch of his hands made sure they were ready. With smooth precision, he fastened the neck support collar before grabbing his helmet off the bench.


    His helmet looked different now¡ªalmost identical to Ansel''s, thanks to the extra Fijee designs printed on it. While Ansel carried two additional sponsors and their responsibilities stitched onto his suit, Luca had just one. Still, it made him smile, thinking this was only the beginning.


    Together, Luca and Ansel walked out of the locker room toward the garage, where the distant roar of the crowd echoed through the walls.


    "...good afternoon, folks! It''s a beautiful day here in George Park, Melbourne, as we bring you the last race of the month in the F2 Championship. The crowded grid will once again battle it out on the track in the second Featured Race of the twelve scheduled for this season...!"


    "...Steve, are my eyes deceiving me, or is the George Park Circuit actually sold out...?"


    "...your eyes are as sharp as ever, Steve! And your ears, too. The George Park Circuit is completely packed, and more fans are still trying to make their way inside. If I remember correctly, we didn''t see anything like this last season, except maybe during the final, twelfth Featured Race..."


    "...well, what do you expect, Steve? After delivering such a performance back in Germany, both on-site and on TV screens, how could they not crave more? That race was top-tier, and the fans are back to experience that same thrill again..."


    "...they better get what they came for, because every turn, swerve, and curve matters on George Park''s winding track. The salacious loops here will truly test the drivers'' capabilities today. And speaking of tests, let''s glance at the Team Standings so far in the Championship: Trampos Racing leads the way with 35 points, followed closely by Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. with 31.


    Hatcherk Motorsport holds third with 14 points, Nevada is just behind them with 11, and, somewhat surprisingly, Squadra Corse Jnr. rounds out the top five with nine points..." sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "....It''s great to see Trampos Racing climbing toward the top so early. After their poor 7th-place finish last season, I''m pretty sure the management told Mr. Lucas Grant, ''Sir, this cannot happen again. We have to make major changes.'' And so far, it looks like those changes are paying off.


    They''ve retained their sponsors, kept their F2 spot, and, with a couple of young talents on board, they''re building real momentum..."


    "...I like where you are going with that, Jon. And speaking of young prospects, let''s take a look at the Driver Standings in the F2 Championship. Max Addams after an exhilarating race in Bad Rauenburg stands proudly at the top with 25 points. And like you had mentioned, Trampos has their two players in second and third, Ansel Hahn and Luca Rennick, each having 18 and 17 points to their name.


    After falling short in the last race, Aaronson could hope to make this one different; forth is his home to reside for now with 12 points. Nevada''s Jorge Rivera managed to get 10 points and is placed at fifth. These are the leading five..."


    "...well, that could change after 46 laps of George Park..."


    "...hehe, as paranoid as ever my co-commentator can be. We have Australia''s Grand Prix ahead of us, folks...!"


    Luca and Ansel entered the garage, greeted by the Trampos team crew. Immediately, a few staff members approached, attending to their suits. A female crew member noticed that Luca''s HANS device wasn''t properly secured and gently cautioned him.


    "It needs to be tighter," she said with a smile, adjusting the straps connecting the HANS to his helmet. She pulled the shoulder straps taut, ensuring they fit snugly against his racing suit.


    Luca nodded in appreciation. "Thanks," he said, giving a quick stretch of his arms and legs to loosen up.


    Just then, Mr. Grant arrived, accompanied by Mr. Moritz. The determined look etched across Mr. Grant''s face left no room for misinterpretation, the message was nothing less than a podium finish would be acceptable today.

 Chapter 40 Silent Expectations 3

    A/N: Thank you for 100+ powerstones this week. Plus one chapter it is.Mr. Grant studied his boys, his face stern as he searched for an iota of distress, anxiety, or timidity in their expressions. Eventually, finding none, he opened his mouth to speak.


    Luca, who was adept at masking his inner emotions, exhaled inwardly. It wasn''t just the question of whether he''d make the podium or not¡ªhe was anxious about the sheer act of racing itself. The sensation of pushing the limits at such high speeds before spectators was still foreign to him, and he figured it might take at least one more race to feel fully in sync with the essence of it.


    Until then, he''d steady his nerves and give his absolute best on the track.


    "Many races I''ve managed, and I can assure you, Motorsport is not like other sports," Mr. Grant said, his gaze lingering on Luca. It was clear that Luca was the intended audience for his words¡ªwhatever Grant was saying, Ansel likely already knew. "There''s no such thing as a seasonal comeback, where a 14th-place team magically rises to fourth by some miracle. No, nothing like that happens here."


    In 1998, Tekk Racing¡ªnow known as Haddock Racing¡ªclimbed from 16th to win the championship with the help of Sam Scott and Alain Mudryk. That was the rise of HR. Luca remembered this, but decided not to mention it, believing Mr. Grant was trying to make a point.


    "Points at the start of the season matter a whole lot more than those at the end. You use the fresh momentum to dominate early on and grab the title. That is what you do," Mr. Grant declared with authority. "We are leaving here with nothing less than 40 points. Do I make myself clear...?" Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca glanced at Ansel. It seemed the last question had been directed straight at him. Mr. Grant was silently placing Ansel in charge for the race.


    "Yes, sir," Ansel answered with steady, unwavering confidence. Grant gave him a firm tap on the shoulder, then turned and walked away toward his viewing post without saying another word.


    As soon as the man was gone, Ansel and Luca shifted their attention to Mr. Moritz, who wore an amused smile.


    "Forty points, huh? Think you boys can manage that?" Moritz asked, half-teasing but curious.


    Luca and Ansel exchanged glances, then shrugged in unison as they pulled on their helmets. The bustling garage faded into a world of muffled noises, the cheer of the crowd and the crew chatter dulled by the snug fit of their headgear. They fastened their helmet straps with practiced ease, though the crew still hovered around them, pestering their necks and double-checking everything with care.


    Luca stepped briefly out of the garage, curiosity pulling him toward the edge. The circuit buzzed with an electric energy, the stands filled with spectators eager for the race. The grandstands were closer to the track than he had expected, with fans near the Trampos Racing garage pit leaning over eagerly, stretching their hands in hopes of touching him.


    He took a quick glance at the other team garages, and he could see they were ready to roll out their cars to the grid. From the far side of the third section, Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr''s garage was filled with able crew members catering for Max Addams and his teammate Dani Walding with the same meticulous care as though handling rare artifacts.


    Luca shifted his gaze further down the pit lane, where another team''s garage caught his eye. He craned his neck to confirm¡ªyes, Squadra Corse Jnr was stationed just to the left, their mechanics hard at work. The line of teams stretched on, each preparing their machines for the battle ahead.


    "Full day," Luca muttered to himself, retreating back into the Trampos garage just as a few desperate fingertips from the crowd managed to brush against his suit.


    Approaching his car, Luca''s System effortlessly analyzed every detail, confirming that the single-seater was in optimal condition and was ready to go. The green text flowed seamlessly across his visor, soothing his nerves. He slid into the cockpit, where the crew deftly fastened the harness and safety belts around him, locking him into place.


    Moments later, a tow truck rumbled into position at the edge of the pit. With smooth efficiency, it rolled Luca''s and Ansel''s cars out onto the curb. As the cars began moving toward the grid, pit crew members gave the chassis reassuring pats as gestures of motivation.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Dallara (F2 04)]


    The crowd erupted into a thunderous cheer as Luca and Ansel emerged with the other 28 cars, their sleek forms hugging the ground, low and poised for battle. The cars took to the track like gliders slicing through the air, rolling confidently to their assigned grid positions.


    Luca felt a twinge of satisfaction¡ªhe was starting from the inside of row 2, Position 3. Perfect. Ansel occupied Position 2 on the outside of row 1, a mirror of their previous lineup at Bad Rauenburg.


    Now, I have a good chance of winning this.


    Max Addams'' blue-and-black Dallara caught Luca''s eye, the sight stirring a fierce hunger inside him. Whether it was he or Ansel, someone from Trampos would take Addams down today and dethrone him.


    [Host, are you confident this will be the race where you complete your Mission?]


    Luca inhaled deeply, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. With a quick press of the ENGAGE button, the engine roared to life beneath him, growling like a beast ready to be unleashed. The vibrations reverberated through his arms, steadying his resolve.


    "Don''t you believe in me, System?" he murmured.


    [The Formula 1 System would not have been granted to you if I did not.]


    [Winning your first race will grant you lots of EXP, two new Skills, and an upgrade to Advanced Bundle.]


    "Alright, then," Luca muttered, shifting his gaze toward Aaronson, who occupied 4th position just to the outside of his row. If anyone would give him trouble today, it was Aaronson. Max Addams? No¡ªAnsel could handle him. Aaronson was his last minute rival from Germany. It would come down to him and Aaronson.


    Aaronson''s car hummed, its revs so loud as if he was anticipating the very millisecond the lights went off so he could explode off the line and pass Luca. "Game on, then. We''ll have a rematch," Luca said, wishing Aaronson could hear. Glancing at each other across the asphalt, Luca was certain they understood their threats nonverbally.


    "...the wait has come to an end, and the race can finally begin! Forty-six laps around the George Park Circuit¡ªthe second Featured Race of the season. We''ll soon see who and which team will come out on top with the most points by the end of the day..."


    "... it''s made known that after that exhilarating performance in Germany, Trampos Racing''s new driver, Luca Rennick, 18, is the driver to watch for today''s race. I say he''ll live up to expectations within the next 80 minutes of engine and tires. What do you say, Jon...?"


    "...one good race doesn''t necessarily make one the seed for the birds. You will have to work your way to gain such appraisal. To me, the young driver would fall short even with the favorable grid position..."


    "...heh, we''ll take bets on that, Jon. But for now, the race awaits, and the lights are about to go out...!"


    Luca''s gaze settled on the sprawling track of George Park, snaking far into the distance like a serpent of asphalt and tarmac, its sharp corners coiling in ways that gnawed at his nerves. His eyes flicked to the massive screens overhead, displaying the starting grid. The lights above the starting line flickered in sequence and began counting down to the moment everything would erupt.


    **Bring the points***


    The crowd roared, their cheers swelling to deafening heights, drowning out even the furious revving of engines all around him. But Luca blocked it all out, narrowing his focus to the twisting track ahead. His System hummed quietly, processing every visual input¡ªevery angle, every turn, and every threat. Anything racing-related that entered his sight became immediate data for him to absorb.


    Flags waved wildly from the grandstands, horns blared, and tension rippled across the grid like electricity. It took just a single moment for the lights to blink off, all the cars shooting forward like uncaged beasts. Let''s do this! urgh!


    Luca''s body slammed hard against the seat as the brutal force of acceleration pinned him in place. The G-forces hit faster and stronger than he remembered, squeezing the air from his lungs. His helmet rattled slightly, but it didn''t disorient him completely.


    [Endurance +1]


    [Host is participating in an Official Race]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 95 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 108 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (Very Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 60m


    -Time: 2.3 sec ]


    The feeling of being behind the wheel was surreal once again. This wasn''t just training or a simulator¡ªthis was the F2 Championship, and Luca was right in the thick of it with an impressive 17 points already under his belt.


    "Thanks for the update," Luca muttered to his System, his grip steady as his eyes locked onto the track ahead. An early bend loomed, notorious for its bottleneck. His pulse quickened as he saw Addams and Ansel up ahead, already adjusting their wheels to fit the curve. Their single-seaters surged side by side, perfectly synchronized, fighting for dominance at the bend.


    Luca remembered the car he was racing side by side with, and he glanced in that direction while he tilted his own wheel. Aaronson was already speeding up even with the structure of the track they were approaching. The Australian was not interested in dragging positions with a driver who emerged from nowhere.


    He quickly zoomed into the bottleneck with a short drift and claimed third position for himself. Luca tilted his wheel to adjust, but Aaronson''s car edged past, slipping smoothly into third place with a narrow margin.


    Luca cursed as the leaderboard shifted instantly.


    [4th Position]

 Chapter 41 Australian Grand Prix

    [Host has skills to Overtake opponent]"Chill, I can''t just do it in a flash," Luca asked loudly, trying to hide his frustration that he had effortlessly given Aaronson third position, leaving him at the gnawing hoods of fifth position, Oliver Kristensen, Retona''s team''s racer.


    Luca deftly tilted his wheel like a seasoned conductor, each adjustment synchronized with the natural rhythm of the car and track. Aaronson''s rear stayed firmly in his sights as the pair approached the next bend¡ªa daunting, tight left-right that could spell disaster with the smallest misstep. Typical of George Park Circuit, the dual chicanes were unforgiving.


    His tires gripped the asphalt like a vice, Luca trailing behind Aaronson as though tethered to the back of his car and was being towed by Aaronson. He feathered the throttle, eyes locked ahead as he eased into the left turn, balancing just enough to maintain a perfect line. Aaronson, ever the predator, had taken a calculated defensive position, trying to close off any overtaking possibilities.


    But Luca, with precise timing, flicked the wheel right, skimming past the inside barrier as if the car knew exactly where the gap lay.


    Having no time to adjust his wheel, the second set of left-right tight curves were just a few metres of rest. Luca hastily transitioned left, cutting a clean arc through the bend before snapping right with a graceful yet fierce determination. Any wrong move during that would have caused his car to skid out of the track. Lord knows what Mr. Grant would do to me.


    Without missing a beat, Luca transitioned left again, his car hugging the bend, tires screaming against the track. The car''s rear twitched violently, threatening to break loose, but Luca''s grip was firm, and he corrected it instinctively. He sliced through the bend, snapping right with determination, and accelerated into the exit, pulling closer to Aaronson.


    There was no margin for error, not with Aaronson driving like he had something to prove.


    And then came the straightaway¡ªthe shortest one on the entire circuit, barely enough space to catch a breath, let alone make a move. Luca had no choice but to push forward, knowing that DRS would be his only chance. As he activated the rear wing, he saw Aaronson do the same, his car preparing to launch forward like a missile.


    The roar of their engines filled the track as they both fired down the straight. Luca''s heart pounded in sync with the pulse of the engine, eyes narrowing as he closed the gap, inch by inch. Aaronson wasn''t making it easy, staying in the center of the track to block any potential overtake. Luca pressed harder, knowing that the third lap would be decisive if he failed to grab 2nd.


    **You better claim back P3, Luca. Gaffer is not pleased here** sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca grumbled, his fingers caressing the buttons on his wheel''s pad. He moved to the right line of the track, hoping to see some space through. However, Aaronson was well skilled at defending his line and others as well.


    The roar of Kristensen behind him was daunting, creeping at his spine, but Luca managed to keep hold of his position, making it through the 3rd Lap as the crowd roared with life.


    "...six minutes into Australia''s Grand Prix, Jon. And I can tell you this, Trampos''s lad did not start well. Handing a podium position so easily to a competitor like Aaronson is a mistake that might come back to haunt him as the race progresses..."


    "...well, don''t forget I said he would fall short, Steve. Luca Rennick was in the perfect position¡ªright behind his teammate¡ªexactly what a team aims for in strategy. But a second into the race, Aaronson showed him why he''s a three-season veteran and a former champion..."


    "...I get your point, Jon. Meanwhile, up front, Hahn and Addams are putting on a motorsport masterclass. It''s clear Addams has taken the lead for now, but we''ll let the leaderboard do the talking in the coming laps. Shifting our focus to the mid-pack and the back, the race is tighter than a wrench on a bolt. And let''s hope we avoid any fatalities, no matter how minor.


    APX will be doing everything they can to break into the top 10 this time. Their zero-point finish in Germany has left them holding the championship table from the bottom..."


    [4th Lap]


    The roar of a car''s engine pulled Luca out of his intense focus. He caught a glimpse of Retona''s black-and-violet Dallara inching closer, creeping into his side view. Oliver Kristensen was pushing hard, his helmeted face locked in concentration as he attempted to squeeze into the narrow edge of the track just before the twisting left-right combination of George Park''s next section.


    Luca''s instinct told him he could nudge his chassis just enough to block Oliver''s slipstream. But then a more dangerous possibility flashed through his mind¡ªif he blocked Kristensen, Miles, sitting in 6th position, might seize the opportunity on the open space Luca would leave.


    He could already envision Miles activating his DRS briefly, hitting the throttle hard, and gliding into view at the peak of the upcoming curve.


    [Intelligence +1]


    Luca swore on his contract he would never let such a thing happen.


    Determined not to lose ground, he stayed tight on his racing line, forcing Kristensen into a bad position. He adjusted his angle with precision, making his car as wide as possible without overextending into the slipstream.


    But Oliver Kristensen wasn''t backing off. He roared forward, accelerating like a predator closing in on prey. For a brief moment, it seemed as if he would make the pass. Yet, just as the sharp bend loomed, Kristensen hesitated¡ªcontinuing alongside Luca at such a precarious angle would surely send him skidding off-track.


    Realizing the risk, he conceded and eased back into the lane behind Luca, his front wing now aligned with Luca''s rear tires as the curve bit into the tarmac.


    [You successfully defended your position. Keep it up, host.]


    Luca''s grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white beneath his gloves. His body leaned instinctively with the bend, syncing with the car''s smooth arc through the long, flowing corners of the circuit.

 Chapter 42 Australian Grand Prix 2

    Emerging out of the bend, Luca was glad that he had closed up enough space that Aaronson was keen on enlarging.The Hatcherk Motorsport driver had set his sights on stealing Ansel''s spot just ahead, and judging by the speed and momentum with which he was approaching Ansel, Luca suspected Aaronson might capitalize on Addams and Ansel''s brawl at the lead, slipping into their line of space before they could even realize it.


    "Won''t happen," Luca muttered, slamming the throttle. His body jerked back violently, as if an elephant had rammed into him. His car roared past a Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr flag being waved from the crowd. The barricades and grandstands pressed too close to the track, and flags like these could easily poke into the drivers'' view.


    But Luca wasn''t about to let a flag interfere with his pursuit to reclaim 3rd Position. The blue fabric whipped wildly in the air as he zipped through, and if the spectator hadn''t held it firmly, Luca was certain it would''ve flown onto the track and caused mayhem.


    [5th Lap]


    A straight was just ahead, engines roaring close together, with no driver confident or comfortable in their position. Luca''s gaze flicked between the track and the data flashing on his steering display. A small engine heat-up warning¡ªnothing critical, it would cool down soon.


    Luca scoffed and adjusted his brake balance to the rear, anticipating the next sharp bend where he planned to make up even more ground on Aaronson.


    His fingers hovered over the ERS button, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash the energy boost he''d been holding back. Another glance at his tire temperatures confirmed they were still in the optimal range for the speed he was about to push. His focus snapped back to the delta on his dash, tracking his pace against Aaronson, who was already accelerating hard.


    Finally exiting the simple corner¡ªat least simple compared to the others at George Park¡ªLuca toggled the DRS button with his thumb, the rear wing flattening to reduce drag. He braced himself for the G-force as his Dallara surged forward, the engine screaming. The track ahead began to blur slightly at the edges of his vision, but his focus remained razor-sharp on the rear of Aaronson''s car.


    A quick glance at his side mirror confirmed that Oliver and Miles were now locked in a fierce battle for 5th.


    "Good, keep ''em busy," Luca said out loud as his car zoomed past, barely inches from the barricade, before approaching the next bend. "Fuck this circuit," he cursed, easing off the throttle to decelerate.


    [6th Lap]


    Luca tilted his wheel mid-lane, deliberately positioning his car to slice through the center rather than hugging the outer edge of the track. He flicked the wheel sharply to the side, initiating a drift through the tight curve. His tires shrieked in protest, fighting the asphalt, leaving a swirling trail of white smoke in their wake.


    The rear end skidded wide, creeping dangerously close to the barricade¡ªclose enough that Luca could almost feel the heat radiating from the concrete.


    The crowd erupted in a frenzy, their cheers growing louder as smoke billowed into the air, the acrid scent of burning tires fueling their excitement in the forth section of the circuit.


    Luca, however, stayed calm and steady, guiding his Dallara through the drift with pinpoint precision, his gaze locked onto Aaronson''s car just ahead. He felt the rear tires itching to break free, but the front tires held firm, doing just enough to keep them in check as the car whipped through the tight curve with wild momentum.


    [You made a 3.5 g drift, host.]


    Luca''s eyes widened, adrenaline flooding his veins as he realized the drift slotted him perfectly beside Aaronson. Their cars now ran nose-to-nose, metal beasts locked in a furious race down a short but crucial straightway, every second crackling with tension.


    Aaronson shot Luca a quick sideways glare, disbelief etched across his face. Their engines screamed in unison, the thunderous roars fusing into one overwhelming sound that drowned out the wild cheers from the grandstands. The crowd was on its feet, urging one of them to launch and take the lead earlier on.


    Aaronson spat a curse under his breath and forced his focus back onto the track. Both cars tore down the asphalt, trailing just behind Ansel and Max Addams like missiles locked on target. His gloved fingers hovered over the DRS button, itching to deploy the boost and leave the rookie in his dust. But the moment to engage had to be precise¡ªhe still needed space to maneuver first.


    His eyes flicked to his left mirror, tracking Luca''s car as it clung dangerously close, almost a phantom shadow stalking his every move. "Get off my flank," Aaronson growled, tightening his grip on the wheel. The next corner loomed just past the grid, forcing him to hesitate.


    Engaging DRS now could backfire with the sharp bend approaching, and the rookie was still right there¡ªtoo damn close for comfort.


    The F2 veteran tapped his brake lightly with his left foot to reduce speed just enough to nail the upcoming corner. This tactic was capable of disorienting a rival who had been focused on keeping to your rhythm; the sudden abrupt change throwing them into confusion and hastily adjustment.


    However, Luca didn''t fall for this; he was relentless. He seemed almost glued to Aaronson''s car, refusing to back down, his engine growling with the same defiance reflected in his driving.


    [7th Lap]


    The subtle deceleration backfired, leaving just enough room for Luca to slip even closer alongside him. His attempt to disrupt the rookie''s rhythm had only granted Luca more ground. "Ugh, great," Aaronson grumbled as both cars hurtled toward the treacherous spaghetti curves that snaked ahead like a coiled viper.


    Luca, sharp as ever, noticed the shift in Aaronson''s line. He adjusted without hesitation, tilting his wheel to match the arc. It was a dance of precision¡ªthere was no room for mistakes. The leaderboard flickered with names, but none of it could be trusted just yet. Kristensen had fended off Miles for now, but their battle was far from over.


    Miles clung to Kristensen''s tail like a bloodhound, and Kristensen was visibly struggling to keep him at bay. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Engines roared viciously, the sound slicing through the cool air as both drivers began their deceleration. Their tires screeched, carving a tight U-formation as they sliced through the curves, flashing glimpses of their sleek frames to the ecstatic crowds.


    Luca''s eyes scanned the track, his focus unrelenting¡ªuntil he spotted debris scattered along the asphalt. Plastic cups and stray litter dotted the racing line, hazards the marshals hadn''t managed to clear in time. One of the cups wobbled dangerously close to the edge of the path, threatening to roll directly into the line of his tires.


    "Why''s Australia like this?!" Luca muttered under his breath as he corrected away from the cups by adjusting his trajectory while still snaking through the left-right chicanes.


    [8th Lap]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 190 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 32000 m


    -Time: 12 min. ]

 Chapter 43 Australian Grand Prix 3

    Luca could feel the tension in the wheel as his tires screeched against the asphalt, finding grip in the tight corners while he fought for control. The car rocked slightly, but Luca adjusted smoothly, catching the rebound with a slight tilt of the steering wheel to stabilize the rear. They say at curves, there is no room for error, no margin for anything but perfection.His goal at the moment was to stay on Aaronson''s slipstream as long as he could, avoid the nasty debris from the crowd and get through the deadly maze without losing much time to the favor of Kristensen behind him.


    **I had P1 for a moment, Luca. George Park keeps being my bane.....may I ask how you''re doing?**


    "I''m forth," Luca replied with a hoarse voice, his gaze unmoved from Aaronson as they bent like waves to the track. "Gimme three more laps at least, I''ll overcome this hurdle."


    **We have 38 Laps ahead of us, that''s more than enough** S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca''s Dallara followed Aaronson cut through another sharp curve with fine precision. Aaronson''s tires zoomed too close to the track''s edge, and began kicking up some dust and loose gravel. Luca wasn''t sure if that was done on purpose as a tactic, but Aaronson''s rhythmic speed and movement altered for a moment, before the Hatcherk Motorsport driver adjusted himself.


    Luca saw his opportunity to surge a bit forward even while they were at the apex of a bend. He maintained just enough throttle to keep his front wing close, allowing the slipstream to drag him forward. But the tight bends demanded precision¡ªhe couldn''t let the dirty air from Aaronson''s rear disrupt his handling.


    His fingers flexed over the paddle shifters as he downshifted, feeling the car grip hard as it transitioned from the right curve to the next left.


    Still racing neck and neck, the two of them weaved through the wobbly tracks like two synchronized racers performing a high-speed ballet. The structure of some lanes and sections brought Luca dangerously close to Aaronson sometimes, separating them by inches, mere fractions of a second.


    Aaronson hit the throttle coming out of the next right-hand bend, his car fishtailing slightly as he struggled to regain traction on the exit. Luca took advantage, pressing down on his own accelerator just a second earlier, his tires squealing as they fought for grip. The gap closed. Luca was right behind him now, so close that he could see the heat shimmering off Aaronson''s chassis.


    "I¨CI got you," Luca muttered angrily with determination, literally squeezing his wheel just to maintain a tight grip on it.


    [9th Lap]


    **Dangerous driving there, heh. I hope you aren''t falling into his trap**


    Aaronson shot Luca one back glance before hitting his throttle once he came out of the next right-hand bend, his car once again, fidgeting slightly as he struggled to regain traction on the exit. Luca flashed a smile briefly as the floating icons on his System''s interface in his view helped him notice that faster. That''s why I''m beside you. To capitalize on all mistakes.


    He took advantage, pressing down on his own accelerator just a second earlier, his tires squealing as they fought for grip. The gap closed even more.


    As they approached the final turn of the multiple chicane set, Luca eased off the throttle, confidently letting Aaronson dive into the sharp corner first. He focused on Aaronson''s chassis taking a wide entry, aiming to maintain as much speed as possible through the twisty section.


    Aaronson''s tires screeched expertly, slightly drifting as he positioned to the center, the nose of his car pointing the way straight ahead. With a single surge of speed and with the right precision from Aaronson, Luca was certain he would lose track of the Hatcherk Motorsport driver.


    Luca''s eyes darted to the little space granted by Aaronson to execute his proposed "checking out". Though he wanted to keep to his original plan of surviving the deadly chicanes with no clear intention of overtaking, Luca couldn''t bring himself to miss such an opportunity. "Moreover, I remember saying I will capitalize on mistakes.


    I''m taking the cut," Luca said to himself, his System deftly analyzing the span of the line he was about to take.


    [Track Span Analysis: 2.5 meters wide (inside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 1.8 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.3 meters (0.15 meters on each side)]


    "I don''t like what I''m seeing," Luca muttered, glancing briefly at Aaronson, who he sensed was about to hit that throttle and check out.


    However, the System flashed an advisory in front of Luca''s eyes.


    [Possibility of Overtake: 72% success rate] [Risk of Wheel Contact with Barricade: 18%]


    Oh, that surpassed my expectations, Luca mused, his fingers dancing around the controls while still tilting the wheel''s frame. The curves were like gods everyone obeyed.


    He aimed for the inside line as Aaronson''s tires screeched, releasing plumes of smoke filled with raw power. The crowd erupted, cheering wildly as if Aaronson''s move was performed just for their thrill. Luca didn''t hesitate¡ªhe trusted his System''s calculations and he cut sharply into the first left-hander.


    His tires skidded dangerously, his pulse spiking as a plume of white smoke exploded from beneath his wheels, kissing the very edge of the track.


    The crowd gasped as Luca''s car swung violently through the corner, just barely avoiding the barricades. He was literally bent in his cockpit, maneuvering the whole situation with a trickle of sweat. However, the crowd''s reaction was a stark contrast from what he felt in his cockpit. They cheered to the upheaval of smoke behind Luca and Aaronson as they battled for 3rd.


    It looked like they''d hit turbo speed, the smoke curling behind them like trails of nitro.


    Luca stayed composed within the chaos. His hands remained steady as he flicked the wheel to the right, smoothly transitioning into the next turn. Aaronson, confident his earlier move would throw Luca off balance, was caught by surprise. Luca''s precision driving placed him side by side with Aaronson once more, their cars locked in the next phase of their brutal dance for 3rd.


    Luca had cut before Aaronson and was officialy third on the leaderboard. However, his System decided it was best to hold back the confirmation until he secured it outright.


    Aaronson scowled angrily inside his helmet as his car screamed down the track alongside Luca''s, both drivers with DRS fully activated. The straightaway ahead was a golden opportunity after the grueling left-right bends, and the tension between them surged. Determined not to lose the spot, Aaronson crushed the throttle underfoot, desperate to outpace Luca.


    But Luca''s car maintained the edge, its nose barely ahead and feathered Aaronson''s view.


    In one clean, final move, Luca sliced in front of Aaronson, perfectly cutting into the third line with grace. Aaronson''s heart pounded with frustration as he was forced to lift off the accelerator to avoid a collision¡ªany contact would guarantee a penalty. "Bastard!" Aaronson snarled, slamming his hands against the steering wheel in frustration as Luca pulled ahead.


    His own car slightly decelerated to stabilize the position, locking down 4th.


    [Good job, host. You have successfully claimed 3rd Position.]


    [3rd Position]


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    [10th Lap]


    **That is my boy. You did well** Mr. Moritz congratulated.


    Luca took a long, deep breath, savoring the moment as a well-deserved congratulation to himself. His eyes remained fixed on the rearview mirror, watching for any sign of Aaronson''s resurgence, while his feet pressed firmly on the throttle. He powered through the straight, leaving Aaronson struggling to catch up. The HM driver was visibly Kristensen''s prey now.

 Chapter 44 Australian Grand Prix 4 Gamble On 21st

    "...so, Jon, are we just going to pretend like we didn''t witness that artistry¡ªthe very definition of motorsport¡ªflaunted right before our eyes...?""...that was a magnificent overtake, I agree, but not because of who executed it¡ªrather because of who was overtaken. I would give the same credit to any of the twenty-eight other drivers. Aaronson is a phenomenal driver, and anyone who gets past him deserves applause, regardless of who they are..."


    "...now Jon, it sounds like you''re leaning to one side here..."


    "...I most certainly am not, Steve. We''re on Lap 15, with Addams and Hahn locked in a tight dance for the lead. The Trampos rookie is charging toward his teammate in 3rd, while Aaronson fights tooth and nail to maintain his lane. Meanwhile, the battle between Kristensen and Bellingham feels never-ending¡ªthey''re neck-and-neck, and they might just drag Kristensen down with them. As for sides?


    If the leaderboard holds, Trampos will walk away from George Park with the most points, just like they did in Germany..."


    "...whoa, hold on, Jon¡ªlook at that! Bellingham''s making a move! He''s lining up right behind Kristensen, and the gap between them is shrinking fast. Kristensen''s been clinging to 5th place like his life depends on it, but Bellingham looks hungry. He''s been tailing him for a few laps now, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce..."


    "...ah, I see it as well, Steve. Bellingham''s been calculating this. You can see he''s setting himself up for the straight after the chicanes¡ªhe''s got a cleaner line coming out of those curves. Kristensen''s been burning a lot of tire rubber defending, and it''s starting to show..."


    "...And here they go, into the final chicane for another lap! Kristensen hugs the inside line, determined to shut him out, but Bellingham''s gaining ground fast on the outside. He''s going for the outbrake¡ªlook at the control, Jon, that''s precision driving right there...!" S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    On the 8th section of the grandstands, positioned just beneath the single glass room of the George Park Circuit, sat several agents representing the drivers contracted to various teams competing in the F2 championship. Most had attended to watch their clients race, focused and intent.


    Mallow arrived late¡ªaround the 15th lap¡ªbarely making it into the filled circuit. His eyes scanning hastily for Sara, who was stationed near the 8th section. He found her amidst the noise, and they spoke in raised voices, struggling to be heard over the thunderous crowd as Miles Bellingham made the daring move to overtake Martin Kristensen.


    Once he finished delivering his message, Sara nodded thoughtfully and responded without hesitation. Mallow''s gaze flicked toward the 8th section, a serene island of calm with the perfect vantage point over the track and the circuit''s largest TV screen broadcasting every pulse of the race.


    Though officially permitted a seat in the 8th section as a driver''s agent, Mallow lingered on the outskirts, clutching himself as the crowd erupted around him. Roars of excitement echoed across the stands as Bellingham slipped into Kristensen''s draft, seizing the perfect moment.


    The two cars barreled toward the corner, and in a breathtaking maneuver, Bellingham powered through with remarkable precision, leaving Retona''s Oliver Kristensen behind in the dust to claim 5th place.


    "...Bellingham''s not letting up, Steve. He''s piling on the pressure, and you can see Kristensen''s rear tires losing grip. This could be it¡ªif Bellingham nails the exit here, he''ll have the DRS advantage on the next straight...!"


    "...And there it is, Steve! Bellingham commits! Kristensen''s car twitches under braking¡ªoh, Bellingham''s got him! He pulls up beside him¡ªthey''re wheel-to-wheel now!"


    "...Heading into the straight! Bellingham''s DRS is wide open¡ªKristensen''s fighting back, but Bellingham edges ahead! He''s taken 5th! What a brilliant move by Miles Bellingham...!"


    "WOOOHHHH!" The crowd at George Park Circuit exploded with cheers.


    Mallow grumbled, half-heartedly shielding his ears from the noise. Over the commotion, the distant voice of the English-speaking commentators rang out through the loudspeakers, celebrating Bellingham''s breathtaking overtake with fervor.


    After weaving through the crowd for a while, Mallow finally reached the 8th section. He paused at the entrance as officials verified his personal information. Moments later, he was granted access, and the roar of the crowd softened behind him as he stood at the threshold. Mallow''s gaze swept across the room, where agents and sponsors observed the race with focused intensity.


    The action on the track was hotter than ever, yet Mallow still had no idea what position Luca was holding. Nevertheless, he trusted the lad.


    At the front row, Mallow spotted a familiar figure¡ªa certain man seated with perfect posture. His heart lifted when he noticed the empty seat beside him. As Mallow approached, the older man glanced up from under his glasses, his expression cool and unreadable. Neither man showed surprise upon locking eyes, both exuding a quiet calm at the sight of each other.


    Mallow slumped into the vacant chair, running a hand through his hair in a habitual gesture. His gaze flickered to the leaderboard, and his heart melted with joy as he saw Luca''s young face displayed beside the large, bronze-colored number three.


    "Mr. Mallow," the man, Mr. Schafer, broke the silence without shifting his eyes from the track, where cars sped past like streaks of rainbow. "How wonderful of you to join us in this reserved section to watch your client race."


    A subtle smile tugged at the corner of Mallow''s lips as he settled deeper into the plush chair, his arms resting comfortably on the armrests. "I''m glad you made that distinction¡ªmy client, and no one else''s. I trust you''re not having second thoughts and regrets about cheating the boy back at that academy of yours?" Mallow sneered, crossing one leg over the other.


    "Because if you take a good look at him now¡ªyour ''better'' boy hasn''t even sniffed a podium spot, yet Luca''s making it his playground."


    Mr. Schafer sighed quietly, removing his glasses with care. He wiped the frames meticulously with a small cloth, then replaced them without missing a beat. A brief glance flicked toward Mallow before his attention returned to the screen, as "I have no regrets about not endorsing your client, Mr. Mallow," Schafer said with measured calm. "He turned out to be a fine racer¡ªgood for him.


    Miles Bellingham is a fine racer too. Achieving sixth in Germany isn''t easy, as you well know. The important thing is that Grey-Husson managed to produce two excellent first drivers this year. That''s what matters to me."


    His index finger twitched involuntarily as Bellingham came within inches of executing a swift curve¡ªone that could have propelled him into 4th position.


    "And this Grey-Husson Academy of yours, gaffer, how long do you think it''ll last?" Mallow asked, leaning back in his chair.


    "What¡ªwhat do you mean?"


    "Mr. Schafer, I may have been just an assistant back in the day, but I know what goes on for standard. The Federation is eager to shut down the Grey-Husson program," Mallow said with a shrug. "Come on, gaffer, you know the deal¡ªunequal engines, outdated training schemes, incompetent staff. The whole operation''s deviating from the Federation''s standards, and you''re well aware of that.


    Keeping things under wraps won''t help¡ªespecially since ''someone'' has pushed this problem to the top of the Federation''s agenda."


    Schafer''s expression remained calm, but the intensity in his gaze sharpened as he stared at Mallow. "You didn''t have to do that," Schafer said evenly. It didn''t take him time to understand Mallow had reported his establishment.


    "Ah, same way you didn''t have to rip my client''s rightful spot that day. If it ain''t his face on Grey-Husson''s, then it won''t be the other. After all, when last did the renowned academy produce anyone truly special?"


    Without waiting for an answer, Mallow gestured for a drink, and a server promptly handed him one. He poured a second glass and extended it toward Schafer, who gave a curt refusal with a wave of his hand. Unbothered, Mallow took a comfortable sip from his own glass. "Oh, by the way¡ªBellingham''s sitting in 8th, according to my slip," Mallow added.


    Schafer scoffed softly, rubbing the underside of his nose as the race''s intensity climbed to a fever pitch. "You''ll lose your money, Mr. Mallow. Trust me," he said softly.


    [20th Lap]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 300 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 115 bpm


    -Operational Status: 60% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 92000 m


    -Time: 30 min. ]


    [Tires are in average condition, host. Fuel level at 65%. DRS is now available. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 18%.]


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. However, considering you''re on lap 20, a pit stop is highly demanded.]


    Highly demanded? Must be serious, Luca thought, glancing at the System interface before him, his eyes scanning the information rapidly.


    **So, what do you say, lad? 21st or 22nd¡ªyour call. Just don''t push beyond 22nd**


    "21st it is," Luca replied, gripping the wheel with precise control. He couldn''t help but marvel at how flawlessly Ansel handled his own car, far ahead with Addams¡ªboth of them dominating the race. Curiosity got the better of him, and he asked Ansel about his Operational Status and the overall condition of his car.


    **I''ll need a pit too, Luca. You go first. I''ll take mine on the 22nd. Let''s see if I can grab P1 this time.**


    "Very well," Luca responded, rounding a curve smoothly. His racing line held perfectly, allowing him to breathe easily without a rival''s engine breathing down his neck. The crowd blurred by his peripheral vision as he unleashed DRS along a straight, the world around him fading into speed and momentum.


    [21st Lap]


    [Stamina +1]


    [Strength + 1]


    **Alright?**


    "Alright," Luca confirmed, tilting his wheel to guide the car toward the third line for an optimal pit stop. He knew this brief pause would allow Aaronson to close the gap behind him, setting the stage for another fierce battle through the tight chicanes of the George Park Circuit.


    The Trampos Racing garage loomed ahead, with the pit crew ready and waiting. Luca braked hard, his Dallara lifting momentarily before settling back down with a thud. Wrenches clanked, tires spun off and on, and finally, a solid pat on his chassis signaled the all-clear.


    Luca slammed on the throttle, rocketing away from the pitstop at the required speed and merging back into the track''s middle line with precision.


    **2.9 seconds, baby!**


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    His eyes darted to the top left corner of his System interface, watching as the Operational Status steadily climbed to 85%, the indicator shifting to a satisfying green.


    [You are picking up speed.]


    Feeling the surge of acceleration beneath him, Luca flicked a quick glance at the rearview mirror, gauging how much ground Aaronson had gained during his own pitstop. But what he saw made his eyes narrow with confusion.


    Hatcherk Motorsport''s car colors weren''t black-and-golden, were they? Yet there it was¡ªa sleek, black-and-gold Dallara barreling toward him with terrifying speed, its rear wing flared open for DRS, shimmering heat waves pouring off the front nose like a beast unleashed.


    [4th Position closing in]


    Luca whipped his gaze back to the track and cursed under his breath. When the hell did HE get to 4th?

 Chapter 45 Australian Grand Prix 5

    "How far is he from me?" Luca asked, his engine roaring like a freight train as it accelerated through the straightway at top speed.[Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [5th Position is 3 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value may change¡ªand not in your favor.]


    Luca could feel the force of the Gs pressing him back into his seat as he rocketed down the lap, rounding off the 21st and plunging into the 22nd. The next set of left-right curves loomed closer, and he knew it was time to disengage the DRS.


    [22nd Lap]


    He glanced at his side mirror for the tenth time in under thirty seconds, his pulse pounding just as intensely as Miles''s approach. "Wow, where''s he getting such momentum?" he questioned, reluctant to ease off the throttle for the bends. Miles, still on the straight, would keep his speed up, tightening the gap with every millisecond.


    I can''t afford to drop speed unnecessarily, Luca thought swiftly. "System, calculate my optimal entry speed," he ordered, bracing himself for the looming curve.


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 78%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 178 km/h]


    "Thanks," Luca murmured, his gaze shifting between the road ahead and the growing dot in his side mirror¡ªMiles Bellingham. So, nothing more or less than 178, he reminded himself.


    With his fingers poised to disengage the DRS just before the turn, he felt the first curve approaching and slammed the brake, sending a shockwave through the car as it decelerated sharply. His body jerked forward under the force as the Dallara responded instantly, emitting a sharp, high-pitched whine as the speed dropped off.


    The world seemed to slow, the grandstands and banners melting into a blur as his car prepped for the curve.


    [DRS disengaged, host.]


    "Please keep me updated with our distance," Luca requested, his face tense as he swung the wheel to the left, tires screeching as they gripped the curved tarmac.


    [Certainly, host.]


    He maneuvered the tight corner, bracing himself for the next right-hander. In his side mirror, he saw Miles''s black-and-golden Dallara entering the same turn, closing the gap with unsettling speed.


    [Distance reduced: 2.4 seconds.]


    "Oh, freaking heavens. Is he like on steroids or something?"


    Pushing into the next right, he could feel the tires struggling again to maintain grip. He could already sense that he was losing traction, the rear of the car threatening to slide out from under him. "System, traction report?" he asked, his focus split between the road and his side mirror. Letting Miles Bellingham overtake him was not an option.


    [Tire traction: 68%.]


    The constant twists of the track were wearing down the fresh tires from his last pitstop. Luca wondered if George Park was deliberately constructed for more than one pitstop per race.


    He decided to ease up, shifting into a lower gear to sacrifice some speed for tighter and better control through the treacherous curves.


    [Distance reduced: 1.9 seconds.]


    After rounding two more curves, the System updated him as he''d requested, and Luca couldn''t believe his eyes. Miles''s car was now in his rearview mirror¡ªa sleek shadow of determination closing in fast. "But where''s he getting such momentum?" Luca muttered, finally accepting a sliver of panic to creep in.


    [Host, it is not unusual for racers to have moments of increased momentum. 5th Position is likely benefiting from your slipstream, using your car to reduce air resistance and gain speed. Additionally, he may have optimized tire performance for these stretches, giving him an edge in acceleration. His fuel load may also be lighter, allowing for greater speed output.]


    [Analysis: 5th Position maintains an optimal exit speed of 191 km/h from the last straight.]


    Luca cursed under his breath. If it is a surge of momentum, it will eventually die down at some point, won''t it?


    He shifted his gaze to the end of the final chicane curves, spotting Ansel''s car expertly weaving through the track to approach the straightaway.


    [25th Lap]


    Luca realized he could warn Ansel about the looming threat just behind him. Together, they could attempt the Robust Formation Strategy. Even if Miles managed to overtake Luca, at least Ansel would be too far ahead for him to catch up.


    [Intelligence +1]


    Glancing at his Sync Bar''s progress, Luca saw only the first segment filled and shook his head in dismay. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Guess who''s on my tail," Luca said to Ansel as soon as the radio opened.


    **Uhh? The young face of England?**


    "Yeah¡ªwhat? Don''t call him that when we''re talking," Luca grumbled.


    **Hehe, how fast is he moving? Is he that much of a concern?**


    "He''s not a concern; he''s a problem. And we need to keep you in 2nd for both our sakes. How about we go with the RFS?" Luca suggested.


    **Sure, sure. Cut with me at the next left chicane. It should give you some space behind me. We time it right. Once we hit the second bend, I''ll drift wide, and you tuck in close. We''ll shield each other from the slipstream and force him to take the longer line.**


    "Alright," Luca replied, casting a quick, cautious glance at his side mirror. "Copy that."


    **When we exit the second bend, I''ll pull forward, leaving you just enough room to cut off his momentum. He won''t have enough straight to recover before the next turn. Got it?**


    "Yes, I got it. We will mess him up."


    **Yeah**


    [26th Lap]


    [4th Position closing in]


    [Distance reduced: 1.4 seconds.]


    Luca tightened his grip on the wheel, feeling the vibrations resonate through his palms. He still couldn''t believe he was officially racing in front of a crowd in Australia. His gaze caught the number ''5'' switching to ''6'' beside ''2'' on his wheel display, right after his System announced the start of the 26th lap. Oddly, Luca felt as though he hadn''t even started racing today.


    He quickly toggled through the settings on his steering wheel, ensuring the brake bias was optimized for the upcoming curves. His Dallara responded smoothly, reassuring him he was in control.


    "Is that 178 still good for this turn?" Luca asked his System, the floor of the track dissected into grids on the interface as he calculated which line he would follow to make the first left-hander.


    [This curve is much tighter, host.]


    [Reanalyzing...]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 150 km/h]


    Luca sighed, replying, "Very well," as his foot danced lightly on the brake pedal, aiming for a brief tap just to bleed off speed without sacrificing the little momentum his engine had at the moment.

 Chapter 46 Australian Grand Prix 6 L Stands For Lockdown

    "System? How far am I from Ansel, 2nd Position?" Luca asked.[Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 4 seconds away, host.]


    Luca recalled the intense training sessions with Mr. Grant, who insisted on precise timing and coordination, especially in stalling potential threats to protect teammates using RFS tactics. As they approached a series of tight curves, he and Ansel calculated the perfect gap, ensuring their positions aligned flawlessly.


    Following the recommended 150 km/h, Luca eased his foot off the throttle, guiding the car to that exact speed¡ªor a touch higher. The sudden deceleration pressed him against the seat, the G-forces gripping his body as he quickly angled the wheel.


    The car''s sleek frame tilted, flaunting itself to the crowd, who reached out eagerly to touch the cars even though they couldn''t no matter how close the barricade was.


    Up ahead, Luca noticed a yellow flag waving through one of the left-right curves. A glance revealed scattered debris hurled onto the track by the rowdy crowd, too much to ignore. Drivers were alerted to proceed with caution through this zone. To Luca, the George Park Circuit needed serious changes¡ªstarting with shifting the fans back.


    If things were like this for Saturday''s F2 Featured Race, he could only imagine the chaos that Sunday''s F1 race would bring. His past crowd experiences with F1 events had taught him that, at times, the crowd''s intensity eclipsed even the track''s tension.


    Luca maneuvered through a bend, his car clinging close to the outer track while his tires gripped the asphalt tightly, faint smoke emitting from the base of the tires as they let out a soft screech.


    [Agility+1]


    **I have fresh tires and a full fuel gauge. P1 looks promising¡ªlet''s make sure that Bellingham boy doesn''t give me any worries**


    "Sure," Luca replied, knowing that if Ansel could reach 1st Position, it would be ideal. After all, securing points for the team was the ultimate goal.


    Luca rounded the next curve, noticing that Miles'' earlier burst of momentum had settled into a steady, controlled pace through the chicanes, no longer the aggressive charge he had shown before. Aaronson, who had recently lost his position to the young English driver from Squadra Corse Jnr, was trailing just behind, much closer to Miles than Miles was to Luca.


    And right on Aaronson''s tail was Kristensen, their cars forming a tense chain of roaring engines. Luca sighed slightly in relief. "He''s got his own battle to handle," he muttered, watching as the large, green holographic number 2 above Ansel''s car grew steadily larger, signaling that he was closing the distance between them as they navigated the curves.


    Luca was yet to fully understand most of the entities on his System''s interface. Its screen was filled with clusters of tiny, rapidly changing numbers that updated in mere nanoseconds. A thin blue line spanned the distance between his car and Ansel''s, filled with intricate alphanumerics he couldn''t comprehend.


    He figured that might be all the calculations done by his System because it was embedded at all edges of the screen. But he could still make out a few key details¡ªhis Sync Bar, position, voice notes, and car Operational Status. Can I even make Sync Buff this race? Luca asked himself, pushing his mind to stay sharp for perfect car positioning.


    His fingers danced swiftly on the wheel as he drove behind Ansel with seamless movements, all cars weaving in almost perfect harmony through the curves. Behind, Miles Bellingham was bringing a pack of fierce F2 racers, all battling relentlessly for a podium finish.


    The top six cars moved through the chicanes, nearing the end of the 26th lap, while the middle pack powered down the last straight, with 7th Position soon entering the first left-right curve.


    [4th Position closing in]


    [Distance reduced: 1 second.]


    [Reanalyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 3 sec away, host.]


    **Bank beside me, then**


    Luca responded with a soft mutter. He watched as Ansel began to shift his car to hug the outer line. Luca''s mind raced as he remembered what and how to follow-up so they could finalize the Robust Formation Strategy. He had practiced it in simulations after the normal training, and now, he would pull it off with a charging rival breathing down his neck.


    Luca didn''t need to tilt much; his wheels were already angled just right for the bend. He only pushed forward, cutting in close on the inside, and within seconds, he and Ansel formed an L-shaped blockade. Their engines roared in sync, a wall of noise and force, the two cars aligning like clock hands at 3:00, perfectly timed to box out any attempt to overtake.


    Ansel held steady at the wider, outer line, leaving Luca a clear view of Addams just ahead. The blue, holographic number 1 glowed above the Bueseno driver''s car, pulsing with a vibrant energy that reminded him of what they were aiming for.


    **Keep it up, boys. Gaffer''s words** Mr. Moritz''s voice came through the radio, booming with approval. Luca had no doubt Ansel was hearing it too. **He asks for more.**


    "¡­ tires screeching against the tarmac, rubber burning hot! The Trampos boys are locked in tight, and it''s a masterclass of defense. Miles Bellingham might find no space to slip through, especially with these brutal bends where it''s all about focusing on your line, not the guy ahead¡­"


    "...after such an incredible display some laps ago? The Squadra Corse Jnr team''s own star boy wouldn''t like to back down. I can see Rennick and Hahn doing their very best to keep Hahn away from potential threats. Who is keeping Rennick away from potential threats..?"


    "¡­hmm, excellent point, Jon. But with those two cars forming an impenetrable wall of speed and precision, Bellingham might have no choice but to either back off or risk an impossible pass. Let''s not forget, Aaronson is still fuming after what went down earlier, and Kristensen hasn''t slowed an inch. If Bellingham backs off now, he''ll be right back in their jaws.


    And we all know what happens when you go for impossible passes¡­"


    "¡­exactly, Steve! And that just strengthens my point¡ªBellingham''s only real option might be to force Squadra Corse Jnr into a top 3 position, whatever it takes¡ªeven if that means attempting that risky, almost impossible overtake¡­"


    "¡­well, are we about to witness it? Bellingham is practically glued to Rennick''s rear wing, and my word, Jon, you might just be right. Even with these tricky chicanes ahead, it seems a wrecked car is worth the risk for P3..!"


    Miles Bellingham was so close now that Luca could feel the tension crackling in the air. He could see the heat haze rolling off his rear wing, and he tightened his grip on the wheel. Just like the commentators hinted, Bellingham was taking his chances for Squadra Corse Jnr., with his teammate lagging all the way back in 11th. It was up to Miles to claw back the points and keep them competitive.


    His curiosity piqued once he noticed another Trampos Racing Dallara just ahead of Luca''s. He quickly realized it was Luca''s teammate he had heard a lot about. They say Ansel Hahn was like the John Watson of F2, capable and reliable, a solid performer, but not the star genius. The F2 was said to belong to Max Addams, and...


    Aaronson, who happened to be having the worst start to the championship, his struggle to find his rhythm this season was the talk of the paddock. A few others had moved over to the main division, while upcoming drivers like Dani Walding, Martin Kristensen, and Albert Derstappen, Miles''s teammate.


    It didn''t take long, Miles noticed what the Trampos team was doing, and he was forced to decelerate, assessing the tightly woven L-shaped barrier in front of him. Luca could see him in the mirror, the sleek shadow of his car dancing from side to side, searching for any gap to exploit. In general, all cars were transitioned, racing through the curves in unison as though they were choreographed.


    Miles had no choice but to fall back slightly, unable to find any opening in the L-shaped defense. It was as if he were trying to crack a safe. He cursed deeply, maintaining a definite speed to keep Aaronson at bay while seeking an opportunity through the filled lines.


    **Good, keep it up,** Ansel''s voice came through, steady and assured. A quick glance in his own side mirror showed Luca''s red-and-black Dallara holding Miles firmly at bay, the black-and-gold car pacing restlessly behind.


    Luca replied with a murmured acknowledgement. He noticed he was the one with the most strain and effort. It was difficult maintaining the L-formation while maneuvering through the curves. His engine was working overtime to keep the balance and speed necessary to align with Ansel. Whereas, Ansel had the freewill to accelerate whenever he wished.


    "Let''s make it to the straight, and we''re golden then," Luca said, his eyes darting to the straightaway he could see to the right.


    [340 metres ahead straightaway] the System calculated swiftly once Luca''s eyes went that way.


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME: S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    -Car Speed: 153 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 115 bpm


    -Operational Status: 82% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 120000 m


    -Time: 52 min. ]


    "...and we can see the drivers finally emerging from those exhausting bends. We might not be computers, but it''s obvious that Hahn is wasting no time firing up his throttle, aiming to catch up with Addams, who''s just entered the 27th lap. This move is bound to give Hahn plenty of room to focus on Max Addams alone, right, Steve...?"


    "... truthfully, yes. It turns out Luca Rennick has successfully kept his teammate out of harm''s way and helped his pursuit for the lead. Now that it''s over, when the straight opens up completely, I wonder who we would be having their names on the leaderboard, Bellingham or Rennick?


    The Squadra Corse Jnr driver looks lethal behind Luca Rennick, and we all know who has been building momentum, and who has been suppressing another..."


    **Good one boys. Next lap up ahead**


    **I''m free as a bird. Thank you**


    "Anytime," Luca replied, glancing briefly at the track ahead as he approached the straight. His heart raced with satisfaction as he caught the faint smoke trail left by Ansel''s tires, a sign of the intense acceleration his teammate was unleashing ahead. Now, Luca was easing through the final bend, the sensation of pure focus kicking in as the road straightened.


    [4th Position closing in]


    With Ansel rocketing forward, Luca''s stint as the Blocker was complete. His foot pressed down firmly on the throttle; the race was his again. Behind him, Miles had taken advantage of the new gap and was shifting wide, setting up for a potential drift into the straight''s first bend.


    Luca caught sight of Miles''s black-and-gold Dallara flanking out, clearly aiming to pull in fast and tight, determined to snatch any opening he could.


    The two racers exchanged a quick glance as Miles swung wide through the track. The two recognized themselves, albeit they were helmeted¨Cyears of high school made their figures unmistakable.


    Yet again, they would face head-to-head, on Australian soil this time.


    [27th Lap]

 Chapter 47 Australian Grand Prix 7

    Mr. Schafer cleared his throat, a subtle signal for a drink from the attendant carrying a tray of glasses."Is your mouth dry from watching Luca keep ahead of Bellingham?" Mallow sneered, chuckling at his own joke.


    "No, not at all, Mr. Mallow," Mr. Schafer replied, taking a sip. "I''m just pre-celebrating. Cheers to Miles Bellingham for third-place in the Australian Grand Prix."


    "We''re at Lap 32 now, I believe," Mallow said, glancing at the TV to confirm. "They''ll keep battling side by side, but my money''s on Luca¡ªnot just because he''s my client, mind you. We both know he works magic when it comes to overtaking. He''s outstanding at it."


    "Mr. Mallow," Schafer said, holding his glass with a calm gesture, "George Park isn''t built for aggressive overtakes. It''s a technical circuit, rewarding stability and consistency. The strategy here is to capitalize on your opponent''s mistakes.


    Luca, pushing Hahn, set up his teammate with that basic draft strategy, but all he did was press down Bellingham''s momentum without creating much for himself." He pointed at the track, just as Luca and Miles raced nose-to-nose. "Simple motorsport math, Mr. Mallow. Miles had built up a certain momentum, and Luca spent a whole lap chipping away at it. So who do you think will peak faster?"


    Mr. Mallow frowned, feeling out of his depth with the nuances of racing strategies, he had no real expertise about it. Mr. Schafer, however, was once the Team Principal of Nevada HanSama, leading the team to an impressive record of trophies. He retired after the last generation of Formula 1 but, as a prominent figure, acquired the new training facility at Grey-Husson''s, once a bustling circuit.


    "If it were that predictable, Mr. Schafer, nobody would bother betting," Mallow countered in his defense.


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    Mr. Schafer chuckled, the reflection of the bright, towering screen glinting off his glasses as he watched the race unfold. The atmosphere had grown ominous¡ªa chill breeze brushed through the roaring crowd as the sun began to slip behind gathering clouds. His chuckle deepened. "Just hope it doesn''t rain, Mr. Mallow.


    I doubt any of our boys have much experience under those conditions," he remarked.


    "...and Luca and Bellingham are in an absolute showdown right now! Look at them go, Jon. They''re practically glued to each other''s rear wing, inching closer every second, both hunting for the smallest mistake from the other..."


    "...no sign of backing down from either of them. Sticking this close lap after lap could be risky for both young drivers. If they could hear me, I''d advise a bit of space..."


    "¡­I doubt they''d hear you now, Jon. With their wheels nearly touching, the roar of their engines has become one. Bellingham is hugging Rennick''s slipstream. It''s almost like they''re daring each other to break first. Who do you think would break first, Jon...?"


    "... I''ve said it before, Steve. The Trampos Racing lad might be driving with precision, constantly adjusting for each bend, but Bellingham''s impending overtake is inevitable to me. The signs are clear, Steve. We''ve seen things like this. Bellingham is wild, taking risks, pushing his car to its absolute limits..."


    "..OH oh, Jon! Risky! Just as you said, Bellingham''s really making daring moves here at George Park. You can feel his frustration mounting as Rennick promptly shifts to force him off at the last second..."


    "...and that''s the thing, Steve. The Trampos Racing driver has endured once again, but he won''t forever, would he? This is the 35th Lap, and we all know how things turn out during the late laps. Miles Bellingham is staying aggressive, Aaronson behind him contributing to that drive. Eventually, he would force a mistake out of Luca Rennick..."


    [35th Lap]


    [3rd Position]


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to disclose opponent.]


    Luca''s eyes were glued to the track now, his brows furrowed with concentration. He had no time to glance at Miles, who was rocketing through the curves with him. They glided effortlessly but tensed through, Aaronson and Kristensen just behind with a few seconds margin. Luca had to accept the fact he was dealing with three competitors, not just one.


    The edges of Luca''s System interface shifted deliberately to a calming wavy cyan blue, attempting to soothe him as it signaled his spiking heart rate. Luca fought to keep steady and tried not to panic, aware that with Miles pushing for fourth and the 36th lap closing in, his podium chance would slip if he let his guard falter now.


    Moreover, Sync Buff was far from available as the Sync Bar was still two out of four bars full.


    He flattened his foot against the accelerator, feeling the raw power surge through the engine as the car lurched forward. Exiting the last curve, his focus locked onto the short straight ahead. It was barely a stretch for balancing out before they''d plunge back into the chicanes.


    His tires clung hard to the track, the wind slicing past his helmet as G-force slammed him into the seat. Despite the force, Luca leaned forward, urging the car for more speed.


    [Endurance +1]


    [You are moving at 300 km/h] S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Speed. Pure, unadulterated speed filled the straight, their engines screaming in perfect synchrony. The crowd became a distant blur, mere streaks of color on the edges of his vision. The track became much brighter due to the cloudy atmosphere of the sky. Luca prayed that not a drop of rain shall leave the sky until this race was over.


    Miles was relentless, holding his position alongside Luca through the brief four seconds of the short straightway. Both drivers knew that the upcoming turn could very well determine their final positions, as George Park''s turns were notorious for separating rivals in a way many deemed as "the right way."


    Luca''s hands flexed on the wheel, bracing himself for the turn while his System diligently calculated the curvature of the track, factoring in the precise speed he would need to execute the maneuver and maintain the tight, favorable line.


    Luca''s eyes twitched, darting left for just an instant. He picked up on a weird, subtle change in the way Miles'' car shifted beside him.

 Chapter 48 Australian Grand Prix 8 Tightrope For Traction

    [Tire Wear at 82%]Even with the blurred movement, Luca could catch the subtle flick of Miles'' vehicle''s rear. He quickly formed guesses about Miles'' intentions but wasn''t entirely certain. As they approached the left-hander, it became clear that Miles intended to take the corner with a short burst of speed, skimming close to the inner edge to shave off milliseconds and potentially disrupt his line and car harmony.


    "...with Lap 35 nearing its end, folks, it looks like Bellingham and Rennick are setting up for what might be the faceoff of the season so far. Remember Rennick''s last head-to-head, Jon? That was against Aaronson just before the Trampos driver clinched third in Germany..."


    "...kudos to the 18-year-old, but let''s not forget, Bellingham''s also under 20. Both are pushing the boundaries here. May this track settle any debate fans might bring up in the future..."


    Miles flicked his wrist in his car just as the track opened wider after a very tight curve. He kept the pace with Luca as he shifted the balance of his car just enough to maintain full control while drifting into the corner¨Cjust as Luca had guessed.


    [Intelligence +1]


    Luca couldn''t attempt such a move himself; he needed a different strategy. They crossed the grid again, entering Lap 36, now just behind Ansel and Addams. "System, can you calculate his line of movement? Help me assess where I could sweep through," Luca said hastily.


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to make accurate predictions of opponent''s movements.]


    Luca shook his head, finally glancing at Miles, who seemed to be focused on his wheel at the moment. He had to be; he was drifting from the corner and would need precision if he ever hoped to overtake Luca. Miles''s tires clung to the track, contrasting to Luca''s more conventional approach on the asphalt.


    Luca suddenly wished they were on a right-hander; he would have had the upperhand, switching favorable positions with Miles.


    Desperate to keep his lead, Luca''s foot placed slight pressure on the throttle, aware he was moving through bends. Miles was running at a similar speed to Luca''s, but Luca felt he was faster. However, the structure of the left-hander granted Miles the advantage, and he was determined to capitalize on it before the track bends the other way.


    Once Miles reached the apex of the bend, his car cut cleanly through a Hatcherk Motorsport flag fluttering above the roaring crowd. Luca caught a sharp glimpse of him moving to the inner lane, and he sensed Miles'' car beginning to decelerate


    Miles had clearly honed his craft with the meticulously trained Squadra Corse Jnr team. He was executing a technique that Luca recognized immediately¡ªa precise decrease in speed mid-turn, allowing him to harness a powerful acceleration on the exit. Unlike aggressive braking, this maneuver relied on calculated control, a skill passed on from the senior team''s training scheme to the junior team.


    Once the technique grew obvious to Luca, his heart skipped with panic. He had encountered it a lot of times in the simulators he spent most of his hours in. A very popular, well-known technique in fact, and two races he had participated into the season, it was justifiable that no one had executed it on him, not yet.


    George Park Circuit''s layout only enhanced the potency of this technique, and Miles'' team had astutely seized on this advantage, feeding it through his radio at the perfect moment.


    In the blink of an eye, just at the channel between the left-hander transitioning to the right, the crowd roared as Miles Bellingham slid just ahead of Luca Rennick.


    Thwack! Skrahh!


    Luca felt the impact immediately.


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    Miles''s car jolted, but his car luckily resisted the centrifugal force. He merely staggered and bounced on Luca''s car before regaining traction on the asphalt. Luca, however, wasn''t so lucky.


    "....oh! My goodness! Bellingham''s sudden shift forced Rennick to adjust mid-turn. The two were nearly touching, but I did not expect the tires to clip¡­!"


    The stands at George Park Circuit erupted into pandemonium. Fans leaped from their seats, their voices merging into a thunderous roar that drowned out the noise of the track.


    The moment their tires kissed in a reckless X-crossed trajectory, Luca''s car shuddered violently, a fierce tremor jolting through the chassis. "Shit!" Luca yelled, the urgency of the moment clawing at his gut.


    The vibrations surged through him, a harsh reminder of the raw power beneath him, and for a heartbeat, his fingers betrayed him¡ªslipping on the wheel as the world around him spiraled into chaos.


    "...and that got Rennick really bad! He''s been sent into a wild skid, his tires wobbling..!"


    "... would that be a penalty? I don''t think so. With both drivers having an equal claim to that favorable corner, that slight collision of their tires was inevitable in my opinion, it was just simply tight racing..."


    "...we will leave that decision to the stewards, Jon. But right now, the Trampos Racing rookie is careening off course, spinning in a blur of screeching rubber and burning friction. I do hope he finds his traction...!"


    **Oh! God damnit!**


    The Formula 1 System flickered to life with a series of notifications and brief alerts. First and foremost, the System had to make it clear to Luca that he had lost P3.


    [4th Position.]


    After that, came a series of warnings, sensing the disharmony in the sync between host and the Dallara.


    [Loss of traction detected...]


    [Analyzing System Stabilization Protocols for host...]


    [Recommend Action: Reduce Speed¨CGrip and control wheel.]


    Ah, fuck. Luca let out a groan, his steering wheel trembling in his grip as he fought against the car''s instinctive urge to veer off track. The roar of the crowd was more than disturbing, followed by a subtle thunder rumble in the now cloudy sky.


    It gnawed at him that Miles had pulled off such a flawless maneuver. The slight collision between their tires lingered bitterly in his mind, and he found himself hoping that a penalty would be called on Miles. "Has he been penalized? Tell me he''s been penalized," Luca said to the radio.


    **You just lost P3. Focus on that engine**


    Focusing on his System''s directive, Luca released the throttle, feeling his speed drop steadily as he eased off the gas. Braking would only worsen his already precarious balance. His wrists flicked in controlled, precise movements, countering the skid with each shift of the wheel. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his body wired with adrenaline as he wrestled the car back into line.


    [Agility +1]


    **Put the car back on the track, Luca. Gain control. We can''t afford a DNF**


    In that split second before he regained control, Luca saw the world spinning around him. The dizzying motion blurred everything but the stark, metallic sheen of rival cars flying past him. Aaronson and Kristensen, once a few seconds behind, surged forward, taking ruthless advantage of his momentary chaos. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh, Mr. Grant will kill me," Luca muttered as his heart sank, witnessing their cars zoom ahead effortlessly, their engines roaring as they climbed higher up the rankings.


    [5th Position]


    [6th Position]


    [Host will be disciplined for dropping so rapidly.]


    A heavy sigh escaped him, frustration mingling with the grim reality of his situation. He had no words left, not even the energy to plead with his System''s relentless reminders. The pressure gnawed at him, but he gritted his teeth, forcing his focus back on the task at hand.


    His fingers tightened around the wheel, knuckles going white as he fought to regain control of the car. The tail end wobbled dangerously, but with a few expert flicks of the steering wheel, Luca managed to steady it. The screech of his tires on asphalt felt like a small victory as he veered back onto the track, the roar of the crowd fading into the background like a distant storm.


    [Traction detected...]


    "...I think he''s back in it now, after a shaky moment on that curve...!"


    As he slipped into the lane, Luca glanced in his rearview mirror. There, looming ominously, was the reflection of Dani Walding in 7th position, barreling down fast, likely hoping to capitalize on his misfortune. Luca grumbled, shaking his head, frustration coursing through him.


    Flicking his gear, he quickly scanned the System''s interface for any warning signals that might indicate a need for a pit stop. The screen glowed a reassuring sea blue; tire clipping hadn''t done any serious damage to the car¡ªjust his position.


    He needed to mentally recover fast. Pressing down on the throttle, he surged forward. After dropping to sixth in the most unfortunate way, he couldn''t let Dani Walding pass him as well. That would be a humiliation he couldn''t endure.


    "¡­after that grueling encounter, Jon. The leaderboard has changed drastically, hasn''t it? While Bellingham and Rennick were battling it out in the chicanes, Addams and Hahn took the fight for P1 to a whole new level! And now, Hahn has given the Trampos Racing fans something to cheer for after that disappointing result from Rennick; Ansel Hahn has claimed first!


    I repeat, Trampos Racing has 25 points to grab!"


    "...impressive display. And like you said, the leaderboard really has changed. Now, not a single team has both drivers in the top three. Bellingham, Aaronson, and Kristensen have all moved up, with Luca Rennick dropping down just the same. What did I say before this race regarding the young driver, Steve..?"


    [You are picking up speed.]

 Chapter 49 Australian Grand Prix 9 One Win, One Loss

    Luca tried to shake off the frustration as he entered the 40th lap, Kristensen''s rear distant enough to crush any last hope of reclaiming position. Now, he was left to defend P6 with Walding pressing persistently from behind.The weight of his recent setback hung over him, clouding his focus. The problem wasn''t just losing ground¡ªit was the sudden sense of vulnerability that came with it. Luca felt the control slipping, like he was no longer in command. Now, it seemed he was just driving not for victory, but for redemption.


    Breaking the news to Ansel about his fall from position was out of the question. With just two laps left, Luca figured Ansel would be in a tightly focused state, and the last thing he wanted was to distract him with his own dismay. Instead, he kept his line precise through George Park, minimizing any room for error, while Mr. Moritz calmly discussed the situation over the radio.


    [41st Lap]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 280 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 117 bpm


    -Operational Status: 65% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 170000 m


    -Time: 1 hr 3min. ]


    [Stamina +1]


    [Endurance +1]


    [Tire condition: adequate but degrading. Fuel level: 65%. DRS is now available for deployment. Engine temperature: stable. Brake wear: 22%.]


    [Telemetry indicates satisfactory handling but monitor for any degradation. Aerodynamic efficiency is slightly compromised. Advise maintaining optimal pace and executing clean exits to deter 7th Position''s advance.]


    "Thank you," Luca responded automatically, half-amused at his System''s calm tone, as though it wouldn''t hold him accountable once the race concluded.


    [42nd Lap]


    Dani Walding kept probing for an opening, hoping for any slip-up from the Trampos Racing driver, but Luca''s line stayed flawless, and the leaderboard remained static as the race neared its end.


    A fresh wave of yellow flags came up, urging Luca to heighten his caution through the corners. He was determined to visit George Park Circuit once again in this his motorsport journey, and deal with its track structure one more time.


    As the drivers entered the 43rd lap, the crowd''s roar intensified, their anticipation buzzing in the stands. Excitement charged the air, with fans leaning forward, hoping for one final burst of action before the checkered flag fell.


    ---------------------------------


    "That doesn''t look good for him, does it?" Mr. Schafer commented to Mallow with a hint of irony. "The time''s up for their decision, and as I told you, clinging to hope was pointless. Miles won''t be penalized¡ªit was unintentional."


    Mallow grumbled, shaking his head. The instant he''d heard the scrape of tires, he knew Luca was in trouble. Dropping from third to sixth had put their lucrative bonuses from Fijee''s contract at serious risk.


    "Word of advice: don''t rely too much on people," Schafer continued, clearly enjoying the sight of Miles holding third. "Funny enough, even I didn''t bet on Miles. Care to guess who I picked?"


    Mallow shrugged, unimpressed.


    "Luca''s teammate, the ever-ready Ansel Hahn. And lucky me, he''s leading," Schafer said with a sharp clap of his hands before rising slowly. "Only two laps left. It''s tradition to be on your feet for the finish."


    -----------------------


    To Luca, it felt as though the crowd''s cheers and roars were meant for a different race entirely. His body didn''t pulse with the usual adrenaline that every driver felt during the final laps. Instead, he hummed softly to himself, focusing on getting through the track while his System notifications pinged when necessary.


    The world blurred past him each time he engaged DRS on the straights, his hands almost seeming to guide the wheel on autopilot while his mind drifted back to what occurred some laps ago.


    [45th Lap]


    Everyone was on their feet in George Park as the checkered flag was ready to begin its wave of finality. The Saturday''s race would eventually come to an end, F1 would take over the next day. George Park tomorrow, and Australia''s Grand Prix would be one to remember.


    The final laps were calm, a stark contrast to the riotous energy in the crowd. Luca noticed a flag with Addams'' face being waved above, making him wonder if Addams held the lead.


    [46th Lap]


    The track stretched ahead as Luca raced, somber but steady. His Dallara pushed confidently through the last few corners, with Kristensen''s rear barely visible in the distance. Luca focused only on maintaining his pace to hold P6, knowing there was no hope of catching up with the leaders but feeling a measure of relief in securing the points. At least 6th place came with eight.


    Up front, the checkered flag began its slow, triumphant wave, sparking excitement as each driver crossed the finish line in a flash of electrifying motion.


    "...Addams is pushing hard, right on Hahn''s tail! Could this be it? Could Addams steal the lead in the final moments...?"


    "...Hahn''s defending well... Addams is giving it everything, but¡ª"


    "...Hahn takes it! Addams pushed hard, but Hahn holds on for 1st place! ANSEL HAHN finishes first...!"


    "WOOOHHHH!" The crowd erupted as Hahn surged across the line, securing a definitive victory.


    "...Bellingham takes third...!"


    "WOOOHHHH!"


    Luca exhaled heavily as his car crossed the finish line just behind Kristensen. The roaring cheers felt distant, muted by his own reflections.


    Gradually, he eased his car into the cluster of racers, his speed dropping in real-time on his display, with his Operational Status at 40%¡ªa close call, as he''d nearly needed another pitstop. He couldn''t believe he hadn''t even managed to make Sync Buff.


    He released the wheel, feeling the stiffness in his fingers as he flexed them to restore circulation. "At least it''s over," he muttered. Damn, what kind of race was this?


    [You did not make the podium, host.]


    [6TH POSITION]


    "C''mon, don''t rub it in," Luca replied, slightly exasperated. "I can''t believe you''re actually going to punish me for finishing sixth. It''s not that bad, is it?"


    [I am not disciplining you for finishing sixth, host. I am reprimanding you for dropping to sixth in rapid succession. This is to ensure such a slip doesn''t occur in more critical races, where points for you and your team (Trampos Racing) are essential.]


    Luca powered down his car, the engine rumbling to a halt as he rested his hands on his lap. Outside, the roar of the crowd seeped into his otherwise silent cockpit, creating a surreal contrast as the cloudy atmosphere added a cinematic touch.


    Cars were parked haphazardly beyond the grid as drivers exited, but Luca remained in his cockpit a little longer, bracing himself for the Formula 1 System''s reprimand.


    "Alright, give it to me," he said, feigning confidence.


    [Punishment:


    Strength -1


    Intelligence -1 ]


    Luca dropped his head, exhaling. "That''s harsh," he muttered. "Alright, show me my Status, physical information, and Skills."


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 71kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 32%


    Strength: 12


    Stamina: 17


    Endurance: 20


    Agility: 15


    Intelligence: 13 ]


    "I still have something to work with, at least," Luca murmured, relieved. He then navigated to his Skills & Techniques.


    [Skills & Techniques: Total Grade - C


    Reflexes: 17


    Overtaking Skill: 19


    Track Awareness: 15


    Pitstop Prodigy: 4 S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Others (Locked) ]


    Luca took a deep breath and pushed himself out of his cockpit.


    "WOOHH OOH! WOOH OHH! WOOOHHHH OOH!" The crowd''s cheers were deafening.


    His eyes instantly landed on Miles, who looked ecstatic with his third-place finish. Luca wasn''t sure he could watch him climb the podium, given his own disappointment. But when he saw the Trampos Racing crew celebrating Ansel, realization dawned that Ansel had taken first place.


    A wave of joy swept over him, lifting his spirits. At least something good had come from this race; Trampos Racing had scored a solid 25 points thanks to Ansel.


    Luca hurriedly jumped out of his car and ran towards Ansel to join in on the celebration. Though Ansel''s smile faded slightly on learning Luca had finished sixth, they both knew the season had only just begun, and this was just one of those setbacks.


    After a brief gathering, Luca and Ansel headed back to the Trampos Racing garage to await the podium ceremony. In the excitement of Ansel''s win, Luca had nearly forgotten the looming hot soup he would be in with Mr. Grant.


    Grant''s silence was louder than words, leaving Luca wondering if a sixth-place finish was truly as disappointing as it seemed. Sure, there were over twenty drivers, so P6 wasn''t the worst. But, like Luca''s System, Mr. Grant was less concerned about the position than with how Luca had dropped down the ranks so quickly.


    He intended to address that issue before it could happen again over the course of the season.


    Just before the podium, the sky finally showed some signs of precipitation as it began to drizzle slightly, small droplets of rain glistening the George Park Circuit''s chicanes and straightways.


    As the podium was readied, the sky began to drizzle, tiny droplets glistening over George Park Circuit''s chicanes and straights.


    With the Formula 2 race over, Ansel took the podium, with a disgruntled Addams on his left and a proud Miles in third. They popped the champagne, spraying it over Ansel to the roaring delight of the crowd, which continued cheering long into the afternoon as the teams finally retired. Stay tuned to empire

 Chapter 50 Attributes Advancement 2

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...][Host should begin Daily Routine.]


    Luca''s heavy, sleepy eyelids snapped open, his eyes bloodshot and his body unwilling to cooperate. He grunted, swiping his hand over his face as he forced his head off what felt like the world''s comfiest pillow. "Good morning, System," he muttered instinctively, squinting around his hotel room.


    [Beautiful morning, host.]


    [Please, begin your Daily Routine.]


    Luca sat up, ruffling his messy hair. Still in Melbourne, he remembered they''d be leaving for Germany in three days. Today was Sunday, a day off for F2 drivers after yesterday''s thrilling race, but George Park was gearing up for the F1 event that would soon fill it with roaring engines and fans. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He''d gotten to his hotel late last night, around 9 p.m., barely finishing the abrupt Daily Quest his System had assigned him. Dinner had been courtesy of Sara, who, in her usual fashion, had ordered precisely what should go on his plate. Exhausted, he crashed into bed, hoping for a quiet morning. Moreover, there were no training practice, no updates and meetings today.


    But, naturally, his System had other plans; at dawn, it rang insistently in his head, flashing a prompt in his groggy line of sight.


    Sighing, Luca sat up, reached for his bottle of water, and took a few sips before sitting still to meditate. Last night''s dreams had replayed his race encounter with Miles, showing endless variations that might have ended more in his favor. Shaking it off, he took a deep breath, centering himself.


    Getting up, Luca brushed his teeth, searching for his tracksuit. He spotted it neatly folded on a small couch in the corner, packaged in a clear bag. He unpacked it, lifting up the well-tailored, custom Trampos Racing tracksuit with a small, appreciative smile.


    Nice, he thought, facing the mirror as he started putting it on. Just then, a knock at the door startled him, and he walked over to answer it.


    Mr. Mallow stood in the hallway outside Luca''s hotel room, shades on, his expression unreadable. "Good morning," he greeted.


    "Morning," Luca replied, adding a casual, "What''s up?" as Mallow stepped inside.


    "We didn''t talk after yesterday''s race, so I figured I''d take the chance now¡ªespecially since I know you hit the gym every morning," Mallow said, glancing around the room before settling himself at the edge of Luca''s bed. "As your agent, it''s not my job to comment on your ups and downs in the championship. My job is to know the condition of my client and make sure we''re aiming for financial growth.


    So, I''ll ask you once: are you doing fine?"


    Luca chuckled, a soft, confident laugh. "Yes," he replied, zipping up his tracksuit.


    Mallow gave a satisfied clap, then walked over to the cabinet beneath the television, snatching up two doughnuts and biting into one. "Good. Now, come on¡ªI''ll drive you to the facility," he said, waving Luca toward the door.


    Grabbing his bag, Luca followed Mallow out to the waiting car. They drove briefly through the bustling Melbourne city streets before reaching the quieter suburbs, where the facility lay nestled.


    The two chatted along the way, discussing Luca''s gradual progress and what the future might hold, especially if Mr. Grant decided to pull him from the driver''s seat for the next Featured Race. That possibility loomed, and both of them knew it would cost Luca the bonuses Fijee had laid out.


    But he was still hopeful. Missing one race seemed drastic over a single setback, right? Luca was confident he could prove it was just a bump in the road and that he deserved to stay behind the wheel.


    "You should be glad. Harry''s still struggling to even get recognized as the main reserve driver," Mallow remarked, his attention mostly on the road as he rounded a curve on the quiet stretch leading to the facility. "There are three reserves in OLAC, and honestly, I don''t see him getting close to competing against you on track. Maybe next season will be his time."


    "Yeah, I feel bad for him," Luca mumbled, glancing out the window. Of the seven drivers in Grey-Husson''s program, only he and Miles had managed to make it to the track so far. Maybe another was somewhere far behind, but Luca hadn''t noticed. Not everyone could shine¡ªhe''d just realized that.


    As they neared the facility, Luca enjoyed the region''s tranquil silence, the sky softening into dawn hues. It was just three minutes until his gym session would kick off his Daily Routine. The absence of birdsong or rustling leaves made the crunch of gravel beneath the car''s tires seem even louder in the stillness.


    "So, what''ll you be doing tomorrow? It''s another free day," Mallow asked, raising an eyebrow above his shades as Luca stepped out of the car.


    Luca tightened his grip on his kit bag, squinting as the first rays of morning sun hit him. "Uh¡­ I dunno," he replied with a shrug. "Maybe I''ll call up Harry, spend the day as tourists?"


    "Sounds good," Mallow said, revving the car. "Just don''t think about racing all the time. It''s not great for da mental health."


    Luca nodded. "Roger that," he barked.


    He watched Mallow drive away, then turned toward the facility entrance. Now, it''s just me and you, System.


    Once inside the gym, Luca savored the rare solitude. His footsteps echoed through the empty space, mingling with the distant sounds of cleaners and a few early staff members. The chill of the air conditioning hit him hard, blasting through the gym like an icy wind. He rubbed his hands together, getting ready to warm up in the frosty air.


    He sprang into action immediately, diving into his Intermediate Bundle-related Daily Routine exercises. He hit the floor for burpees, moving rapidly, his muscles already firing up as sweat started to bead on his forehead. Without pause, he launched into high-intensity intervals¡ªshort, powerful bursts that had his heart pounding in seconds.


    Moving into his core workout, he tackled planks and Russian twists, testing his endurance. Push-ups came next, his arms burning as he pushed through, followed by lunges, each one with careful focus. He wrapped up with flexibility training, holding deep stretches and yoga poses that released the tension in his muscles.


    [Good job.] The System congratulated him after thirty solid minutes of exercise.


    Luca panted, catching his breath, "Guess now we''re on to Attributes, right? That''s usually next after the workout."


    [Certainly, host.]


    [During your sleep, System compiled a custom set of exercises tailored to improve after yesterday''s¡­ less-than-ideal race performance.]


    [Through detailed analysis, System identified two key incidents for optimization: first, when host collided with a tree, and second, when the host''s tires clipped a rival''s. From this, the System concludes host needs focused training on in-race agility, evasive maneuvers, and optimal control, coupled with enhanced quick decision-making.]


    "That''s... that''s actually thoughtful of you. Thanks a lot," Luca said with appreciation.


    [My objective is to make you the best Formula 1 racer in history, host. This is simply System''s duty.]


    [Retrieving Data....]


    [....Data Retrieved]


    [This side programme will focus on the following:


    ¨CReaction Ball Timing


    ¨CBalance Board Training


    ¨CRapid Direction Change Sprints


    ¨CCognitive Speed Training


    ¨CSimulated Racing ]


    [Some of these exercises would benefit from another person''s assistance. The System advises host to secure a personal trainer.]


    "Yeah, Sara said she''d handle it. But let''s knock out the ones I can do on my own for now," Luca replied, stretching out his arms. "Pretty sure I can simulate solo, right?"


    [Certainly, host. However, a dedicated day for Simulated Racing has been scheduled. You''ll engage in intensive simulation training for a full five hours.]


    Five hours?! That''s intense...


    [Analyzing....]


    [... Analyzed]


    [Today''s session will focus on the following for sole participation:


    ¨CBalance Board Training


    ¨CRapid Direction Change Sprints


    ¨CCognitive Speed Training ]


    [EXERCISE: BALANCE BOARD TRAINING]


    [EQUIPMENT: BALANCE BOARD]


    [Host is required to stand on the balance board while maintaining stability and performing tasks to enhance coordination and control.]


    [This will be done for 5 minutes, focusing on balance and core engagement while tossing and catching a lightweight medicine ball to himself, requiring adjustments to maintain stability during the movement.]


    With no time to waste, Luca looked for a balance board and a medicine ball in the gym. He found and grabbed them, setting them up in his designated gym area.


    Carefully stepping onto the balance board, he yelped as it wobbled slightly beneath him. "I won''t forgive you if I fall," Luca muttered to his System, gripping the medicine ball tightly. With focused determination, he tossed the ball into the air, catching it smoothly while adjusting his weight to maintain his balance.


    He repeated the motion, gradually increasing the speed of his throws, feeling his core engage fully just as his System instructed.


    After a grueling five minutes, he finished, panting heavily as he hopped off the board and sank onto the floor. "Okay," he said breathlessly, still catching his breath. "What''s next?"


    [Good job, host. Moving on to the next.]


    [EXERCISE: RAPID DIRECTION CHANGE SPRINTS]


    [EQUIPMENT: CONES]


    [Host is required to sprint between a series of cones set at varying distances, making sharp, quick turns to simulate racing reflexes. Focus on speed, immediate direction changes, and foot placement to enhance agility.]


    [This will be done for 5 sets, each lasting 30 seconds, with short rests in between to allow your body to recover while maintaining intensity.]


    "This is not alien to me," Luca replied, instantly gearing up. His System was assigning drills that directly targeted his reflexes and agility, exactly what he needed to face similar scenarios from yesterday.


    He positioned the cones in a staggered line, setting them at varied distances to ensure an unpredictable pattern for weaving. After a quick glance at the first cone, he grunted and sprinted forward, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the gym.


    Snaking through the cones wasn''t difficult, but the unique challenge here was the rapid change in direction while sprinting. Luca knew his System had selected this exercise specifically to help him adapt to sudden course changes while driving.


    He pushed himself, making sharp pivots and dashing to the next cone with renewed focus. Each change of direction tested his control, and he concentrated on maintaining his speed through each turn. The burn in his legs fueled him, his 20 Endurance score showing its worth as he drove through the exercise.


    After resetting and launching into the final set, Luca finished, only slightly winded but feeling the satisfying strain of effort. He exhaled deeply, resting his hands on his knees. "Done."


    [Very good, host.]


    [Moving on to the next.]


    [EXERCISE: COGNITIVE SPEED TRAINING]


    [EQUIPMENT: NONE]


    [Host is required to perform physical movements, such as sprinting or jumping, while simultaneously responding to verbal or visual cues. Tasks will include answering questions, solving quick math problems, or identifying patterns to enhance mental agility under pressure.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of 5 minutes each, maintaining a high level of intensity while improving decision-making speed and cognitive performance.]


    "What? Am I training for a circus?"


    [No, host. This will be highly beneficial for your decision-making under high-stakes conditions.]


    "Damn," Luca whispered, surprised by the level his System was taking things to. "So it involves you throwing questions at me? Like a quiz while I work out?"


    [Yes, host. Your simple words explain it perfectly.]


    [Let us proceed with COGNITIVE SPEED TRAINING.]


    Luca shook his head, half in disbelief and half amused. "Alright, let''s see what this ''circus training'' is all about," he muttered as he stretched and prepared himself. "Alright then, hit me with your best shot."


    [Cognitive Speed Training Initiated.]


    [Retrieving questions for host...]


    [... Questions retrieved.]


    [What is the sum of 23 and 57?]


    Luca sprinted in place, focusing on his movements while quickly calculating. "Uhmm....uhmmm, eighty," he replied quickly, the answer flowing out as he jumped high, landing softly.


    [Correct. Identify the next number in this sequence: 2, 4, 8, 16.]


    What the heck. Luca leaped onto an imaginary plyometric box, then hopped back down, his mind racing to decide if it was a geometric or arithmetic progression. "Thirty-two!" he shouted instinctively, louder than he expected.


    [Correct. How many bones are in the adult human body?]


    [Keep your brain sharp, host.]


    "Uhh, I think¨CI think it''s two hundred and six," Luca replied as he transitioned into a series of high knees.


    [Correct. What is the boiling point of water in degrees Celsius?]


    "Uhhhhh," Luca stammered as he switched to lateral shuffles. "Can I skip?"


    [Yes, host.]


    "Skip."


    [Skipped.]


    [Who wrote "Romeo and Juliet"?]


    Luca shook his head, his mind racing but he couldn''t seem to grab the answer. "I have no idea," he muttered. "Skip."


    [Skipped.]


    [What is the square root of 144?]


    "Twelve!" He answered unhesitatingly, throwing in a few quick jumps for extra intensity in the exercise.


    [Correct.]


    [In what year did the Titanic sink?]


    "Ah, ah, 1934!" Luca replied with confidence, pushing himself through a sprint.


    [Incorrect.]


    [Answer is "1912"]


    Damn, I thought I was right.


    [Who painted the Mona Lisa?]


    "How the fuck does this have to do with racing? I have no idea, System."


    [Answer is Leonardo da Vinci]


    [Which gas is most abundant in Earth''s atmosphere?]


    Luca felt a burn in his legs as he landed from a jump. He quickly pivoted to maintain his pace as he moved quickly to blend the rhythm of his exercise. "It''s nitrogen," he answered calmly.


    [Correct. We have reached the end of Cognitive Speed Training.]


    Luca exhaled sharply, spinning on his heels and slumping onto the gym bench. "Thank you very much, System. You just brought back school trauma," he gasped, reaching for his water bottle. Experience more content on empire


    [This session of your Daily Routine is now complete.]


    [You achieved a performance score of 55.5%. Aim to improve next time.]


    [Ding!]


    [Agility +1]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [Intelligence +1]


    [Good job, host. You can now proceed to the next phase of your daily routine.]

 Chapter 51 Respite

    With his gym session behind him, Luca stepped out of the facility and into the fresh air of the premises. His bag and water bottle were clutched in one hand, while the other struggled to fit the earpiece securely into his ears, an awkward battle of balance.A stroke of luck awaited him: one of the senior staff members at the facility was about to board a white van. The man mentioned he needed to pick up some supplies and offered Luca a ride back to his hotel.


    Luca didn''t hesitate and climbed into the passenger seat. Out of respect, he decided to unplug his earpiece, opting instead to engage in conversation with the man who had kindly offered him a lift. He still found it surreal, the way life had changed¡ªtalking to strangers from different corners of the world. Funny how this man could''ve driven off on any other day, blissfully unaware of his existence.


    "Thanks so much for this," Luca said as they neared the hotel after a long route that allowed the man to handle some job-related errands. The man responded with a warm wave, his Australian accent lacing his polite reply.


    Luca, who was standing on the pavement, glanced up at the towering hotel before shuffling himself inside. I will enjoy myself today, he said internally.


    He entered his room, tossing his bag onto the neatly laid rug. First order of business¡ªshower. The water felt wonderful, and Luca sighed as the cold stream washed away the tension built up from the morning workout. Midway through his shower, his phone rang, forcing him to step out, still soapy and dripping, to answer.


    It was Sara, checking in and asking if she could send up his breakfast now. He greeted her warmly and assured her it was indeed a perfect time for that.


    Luca resumed his shower, humming deeply as the cold water cascaded over him, relaxing every muscle that had tensed up during his early morning workout. When he was done, he stepped out, water still beading down his skin, and grabbed a warm, white towel to dry off. Just as he was finishing, a knock sounded at the door. Luca tightened the towel around his waist and walked over, opening the door to let the steward in.


    The humble man moved swiftly, placing the breakfast tray on the empty side table with practiced efficiency before giving a respectful bow and stepping back to leave.


    As the door clicked shut, Luca''s senses were instantly teased by the rich aroma coming from the plates. His best guess was grilled salmon and sweet potatoes, maybe with some chicken breast too, a combination he had specifically mentioned in the list to Sara.


    Feeling free as a bird for the first time in weeks, Luca slipped into a comfortable set of homewear and pulled on some socks. He sat down at the table and enjoyed his breakfast, drinking water in long gulps, like a camel quenching its thirst after a trek through the desert.


    Once he''d polished off the last bite, Luca flopped onto the bed¡ªnot to sleep, but to unwind. He reached for the new laptop Sara had surprised him with just yesterday, sitting on the nightstand to his right. She''d mentioned she''d uploaded a few movies for him, and Luca couldn''t wait to indulge. I wonder how long it''s been since I last watched a movie, he thought with a smile.


    The laptop screen lit up, flickering through a loading sequence that felt oddly satisfying. Luca picked up his phone from the bed, deciding it was finally time to go through his messages. The screen buzzed with notifications related to F1¡ªodds, predictions, and statistics flooding the top of his display. The main division was set to take on Australia today, racing through the challenging and scarred George Park Circuit.


    But Luca had no intention of tuning in to watch the professionals, he wanted to relax as Mallow advised.


    Though curiosity got the better of him, prompting him to check on the F2 standings and table. After the setback he''d faced yesterday, he was pretty certain he''d slipped from the top three in the individual standings. Swiping and scrolling through the updates, he saw a headline photo featuring Ansel pumping his fist triumphantly, with Max Addams in the background, shaking his head in frustration.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -------------------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 68


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 53 Explore new worlds at empire


    3. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 28


    4. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 25


    5. | Nevada HanSama Jnr | 12


    Luca''s eyes skimmed down the table, noting that Squadra Corse Jnr. had moved up to fourth, displacing Nevada''s junior team to fifth place. The sight of Trampos Racing leading the standings brought a sense of satisfaction; he knew he''d played a major role in that success. Without hesitation, he swiped to the driver standings.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    --------------------------------------------------


    1. | Max Addams | 43


    2. | Ansel Hahn | 43


    3. | Luca Rennick | 25


    4. | Miles Bellingham | 25


    5. | Sean Aaronson | 24


    "Very tight," Luca muttered, studying the numbers closely.


    He noted that Aaronson, despite never making it to the podium, had managed two consecutive fourth-place finishes, bringing him tantalizingly close to the leaders. Meanwhile, Miles shared the same points total as Luca, thanks to an extra two points for securing the fastest lap, leveling their positions.


    Luca licked his lips with determination, silently vowing to climb higher in the standings and keep Trampos Racing firmly at the top. He swiped over to his messages.


    Responding to each message felt effortless. One even caught him off guard¡ªa brief check-in from Mr. Fisher that made Luca smile. Harry had also sent a suggestion to hang out in Melbourne before they all headed back to their respective team bases around the world. Luca''s reply was quick: That''s exactly what I had in mind.


    Just as he was about to turn off his phone and focus on the laptop in front of him, his eyes fell on an unread contact: Isabella. He winced, noticing he''d accidentally spelled her name with two S¡ªIssabella. After all the effort he put into getting her number, he had yet to message or call her.


    Luca cussed himself as his thumbs hovered uncertainly over the keyboard on the empty chat screen. What should I even text...?


    The only thing that came to mind was a simple ''Good Morning'', so he reluctantly typed it out and lazily hit send. The message sent successfully and marked as delivered, and then, to his surprise, the chat showed that she had read it.


    Luca''s heart skipped a beat and his eyes widened once the text was read. He whispered, "Oof," pressing the power button hard to turn off the screen and putting his phone down swiftly.


    Glancing around the empty hotel room as if to reassure himself, he took a deep breath and focused on the laptop on his lap. He knew little about navigating the device, but he could at least locate the movie player where Sara had loaded some blockbuster films from last year.


    Settling deeper into the bed, Luca sank into the soft embrace of the mattress and pillows as the "Transformers" movie came to life on the screen. The dramatic music boomed from the speakers, stirring excitement in him.


    S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 52 Respite 2

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...] S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.Luca had spent the previous day in solitude, confined to his hotel room. He only ventured out once, feeling the need to stretch after being glued to his bed and binge-watching movies on his laptop. His eyes felt sore and unfocused, and he could barely see straight as he made his way out of the room.


    When he reached the hotel''s recreational center, he found it buzzing with activity. The indoor pool was crowded with people enjoying themselves, and other guests were engaged in various games and workouts. Luca, looking for a way to unwind, joined a few older men who were playing table tennis. He stretched his arms and felt his calf muscles tighten, grateful for the movement after so much inactivity.


    By late afternoon, Luca was in the middle of a game with a good fellow, when the TV screens around the center flickered to life, broadcasting live footage of the upcoming Formula 1 race at George Park. The circuit was just a few miles from the hotel, in the same bustling district.


    Luca had hoped to avoid motorsport altogether for the day, taking a rare break from the high-speed world he inhabited. But luck wasn''t on his side, and racing found him anyway. The older men grumbled amongst themselves, complaining about not being able to attend the race due to the venue being at full capacity. Resigned to watching from afar, they settled into their seats, chilled drinks in hand, ready for 90 minutes of roaring engines and blistering speeds. Luca was relieved that none of them seemed to recognize him as a Formula 2 driver; he even liked it that way.


    A few guests continued with their activities but cast the occasional glance at the screen to catch updates on the race. Luca was one of them. He resumed his table tennis match with a middle-aged Asian man, but his eyes kept drifting back to the screen, stealing glances at the F1 cars and racers as the anticipation mounted.


    "...Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the heart of Melbourne! We''re just moments away from the start of what promises to be an exhilarating Formula 1 race...!"


    Luca''s bat had swung through the air, completely missing the tennis ball. He glanced up at the man he was playing with, expecting a look of frustration or disappointment, but the man''s gaze was locked on the TV screen, just as distracted as Luca. With curiosity sparked, Luca turned his eyes to the broadcast that had momentarily stolen their attention making him miss the white ball.


    "...as the cars line up on the grid, let''s take a quick look at our pole sitter today¡ªdriver number 44, Squadra Corse''s one and only Antonio Luigi, who''s shown incredible pace in the last race. Right alongside him, we have the ever-competitive number 32, Marcellus Rodnick representing Jackson Racing, to capitalize on any mistake..."


    A low murmur of disappointment rippled through the older men seated in front of the TV. He found out that the reason for their displeasure was that their favorite, Marco Rossi, the reigning F1 champion from Jackson Racing, had now been absent for two consecutive races. No official explanation had been given, but Luca had a few guesses. It could be anything from unresolved contractual issues or the Team Principal must have gone nuts, making an inexplicable decision to bench the star driver in favor of Rodnick.


    "...let''s not forget about the weather, Sam¡ªclouds gathered during the feeder series yesterday, and today''s skies don''t look any clearer. A rain shower could shake things up. How will the teams adapt...?"


    "...what we are looking at here is the pinnacle of motorsport, Alex. These drivers know how to navigate through any situation; a slight drizzle would be the least of their problems..."


    Luca glanced back at the man he had been playing against. They exchanged a knowing look, a silent agreement that they have been toying with themselves. Without a word, they both set down their paddles and joined the others who had gathered to watch the race unfold.


    The aged men made room for Luca, and before he knew it, someone handed him a chilled bottle of lager. Luca stared at it curiously; he''d never had beer before. With some hesitation, he took a sip, then another, and managed only three before the pungent stench overwhelmed and intoxicated him.


    The race commenced, and an electric energy filled the room, matching the intensity on the track. The old men who had been lounging a moment before suddenly came alive, shouting at the screen and leaping to their feet. Some clenched their betting slips with white-knuckled desperation, silently urging their drivers forward, while others groaned as their picks started to slip down the leaderboard.


    Nearby, a group of friends exchanged banter, pointing out the strategies unfolding before them, their laughter mingling with shouts of encouragement. A quiet man at one side leaned forward, eyes glued to the screen, whispering tactics to himself as if he was a supreme being, plotting the race''s outcome.


    Luca wondered if people had reacted this way when he skidded off the track to Miles Bellingham. Maybe a man in this room had placed his money on him. The thought of it made Luca laugh inwardly as he couldn''t help but be swept by their enthusiasm bouncing off the walls of the recreational centre.


    After a thrilling hour and a half of racing, it finally ended and the results were fairly surprising. The same Marcellus Rodnick the men disapproved, astonishingly claimed 1st in George Park. Antonio Luigi took second place, which sparked an odd sense of satisfaction in Luca. In fact, he was more than happy with the leaderboard after Nevada HanSama''s Hank Rice set the fastest lap in the race and secured third place.


    Luca didn''t linger to watch the podium celebrations. He excused himself quietly and returned to his room, spending the remainder of the day completing his daily training routine and indulging in more movies.


    Now, today was a fresh start.


    Luca got out of bed and went through his morning routine like a well-programmed machine. The motions felt predictable, almost robotic, as if he were caught in an unending loop. He had already called Sara to pick him up and drop him off at the training facility.


    Luca made it to the gym once again and began his exercises, keeping his body fit as ever.


    Stay tuned for updates on empire


    [Today''s session will focus on heated Simulated Racing to mirror in-race scenarios for abrupt switch and swerve of lane to avoid contact with rivals and transition their cut-ins against them.]


    [EXERCISE: SIMULATED RACING TRAINING]


    [EQUIPMENT: RACING SIMULATOR]


    [Host is required to sit in the racing simulator while maintaining focus and control, performing tasks to enhance coordination and reaction time.]


    [This will be a 4-hour session. It will involve replicating real-time racing dynamics, focusing on precision driving, endurance, and reaction time while navigating complex tracks, sharp turns, and high-speed straights. Host must adjust strategies based on simulated race conditions to maintain peak performance and efficiency throughout the session.]


    [Next phases of Daily Routine will be shifted to accommodate this session.]


    Luca shook his head slowly, hands resting on his waist as he stared at the racing simulator. Four hours of non-stop racing wasn''t just training anymore. He desperately hoped that after all this, his steering and alertness would see some noticeable improvement.


    He checked the time on his wristwatch: 6:28. That meant he''d probably be done and out of here by around 10:30. Exhaling deeply, Luca slid into the simulator. The padded seat enveloped him, and he adjusted the straps with a practiced hand. The VR headset lowered over his eyes, pulling him into the immersive world of simulated racing. His hands gripped the wheel instinctively, and his feet hovered over the pedals, his senses drowned in the roar of engines.


    Luca raced for four solid hours, with no breaks for water or bathroom trips. His concentration never faltered, even though the virtual tracks looked and felt incredibly real. But he could easily tell the difference. The simulations, while spot on, never quite matched the brutal demands of a real race¡ªyet, somehow, they felt even tougher.


    After what seemed like an eternity, Luca finally finished the simulation. He groaned as he peeled off the gear, his muscles stiff, his body aching from maintaining such intense focus and posture for so long. "Ahh, System. What have you done to me?" he bellowed, his eyes dry as he stumbled, the dizziness creeping in. He stretched his arms out in exhaustion, letting the tension slip away as a tired yawn escaped him.


    [Activity helped you advance your Attributes, host.]


    [Strength +1


    [Stamina +1]


    [Endurance +]


    [Agility +1]


    [Intelligence +1]


    "That''s very impressive. I thought I wouldn''t make a thing after failing to fill the Sync Bar," Luca said, leaving the simulation room with swollen eyes.


    He stepped into the cool mid-morning air, taking a moment to stretch as he jogged down the short steps. With a quick snap, he opened the tip of a Fijee energy drink. Sara waved at him from the driver''s seat, her shades giving her a cool, effortless vibe¡ªher own money starting to show in the little details.


    Luca nodded tiredly, taking a long gulp from the can as he walked to the car. He climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door behind him.


    Sara turned to him, showing him the screen of her phone. Luca''s gaze shifted to the details of a Middle-Eastern man on the display. "Who is this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "Do you like him? I picked him as your personal trainer. Just wanted your validation," Sara said, shaking the phone in front of him with urgency.


    Luca squeezed the Fijee can and tossed it under the airbag. "You must''ve selected the best. What other validation do you need?"


    Sara smiled, satisfied. "It''s settled then," she said, dropping the phone and turning the car''s engine on, her hands resting confidently on the wheel.


    As they drove back to the hotel, Sara kept him company while he enjoyed a late breakfast and took a relaxing bath. After a short nap, Luca was jolted awake by a phone call from Harry, eager to hang out. At the same time, Ansel suggested a meet-up to chill. Sensing an opportunity for a good time, Luca quickly arranged a get-together for all three of them.


    Luca dressed casually yet stylishly¡ªdark jeans, a fitted graphic tee, and a lightweight jacket that complemented his look perfectly. He followed Sara out of the hotel and into the car once again, the destination set for Abisal Square, a vibrant and lively spot right in the heart of Melbourne.

 Chapter 53 Respite 3

    Luca met up with Harry at the entrance of Abisal Square. Harry was easy to spot in the bustling venue, wearing an outfit similar to Luca''s, along with his distinctive brown skin and hazel eyes. The two nudged each other as they approached and instantly launched into stories about their latest endeavors.Harry was genuinely proud of Luca. From the first moment he stood at their dorm room door at Grey-Husson''s, he''d known Luca was going to be good. That thought kept him going, giving him hope that the OLAC management would recognize his own potential in a single-seater and give him a shot behind the wheel, even if just for Sprint Races.


    They strolled around Abisal Square, waiting for Ansel, who was running late. The square was a blend of modern architecture and open space, with a massive screen displaying cultural highlights. Moments later, clips from yesterday''s F1 race flickered across it. They chatted, paused to watch street performers, stopped at food stalls, and even dashed after pigeons, laughing and soaking up the atmosphere.


    They grabbed cold drinks and settled on the terrace, watching girls pose for photos in the open space. Just as they were getting comfortable, Ansel called to announce his arrival.


    With a shared glance, Luca and Harry walked back to the entrance to greet him. Ansel approached, dressed in a black jacket and jeans, a cap pulled low over his eyes. Luca figured he had good reason to be cautious; after two years in Formula 2 and a victory in Saturday''s Feature Race, Ansel''s face was probably recognizable to thousands of Australians.


    "I see she even flew halfway across the world just to watch you race," Ansel said, smirking as he nodded toward Luca. They exchanged greetings, and Ansel shot a glance back at the road behind the square. Sara was there in the driver''s seat of a parked car, shades on, absorbed in her phone.


    Luca almost laughed out loud, tempted to tell his friends that Sara was his PA, not his significant other. But he found the misunderstanding amusing enough to let it ride.


    Ansel joined them, drink in hand, and soon they were talking and laughing like they were drunk¡ªthough it was just fatigue making its presence known.


    Their last full day in Melbourne had come to an end, with Luca and Ansel giving Harry a heartfelt goodbye as they parted ways. Sara sped off as soon as Luca settled into the car, the sky turning a deeper shade of blue as his evening hangout concluded.


    That night, Luca began packing his belongings, convinced that starting early was better than scrambling later. After finishing his dinner and taking a night bath, a weary Sara excused herself and headed to her hotel room to rest.


    With his suitcase half-packed, Luca''s phone rang¡ªMallow''s name lit up the screen. He answered briefly, only for it to ring again immediately after. This time, "Mother" was displayed in bold. Luca found himself groaning at the idea of answering his own mother''s call. He never knew how to handle her effusive praises and constant wishes for his safety, as if she were an ardent believer speaking to her divine maker and protector.


    Luca was sure she wanted to thank him for the recent deposit Sara had made earlier that day. That gave him even more reason to hesitate. He dropped onto the edge of his bed, letting the call ring out before switching to messages instead.


    Luca: Mother, good evening. I''m at a forum now, can''t answer calls, what''s up?


    Mrs. Rennick: Luca, my beautiful son...


    Luca rolled his eyes and groaned at the ceiling. The length of the incoming message already made him thankful for dodging that call. Still, a small smile crept onto his face as he realized how lucky he was to have such a caring mother. With a shift in his mood, he replied with the same affectionate energy.


    His gaze drifted to the chat beneath, eyes slowly widening when he saw Isabella''s name. He''d completely forgotten that he''d messaged her. Now, there was a reply¡ªsent 1 day and 10 hours ago. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca stroked his forehead, wondering why he chickened out before. Taking a deep breath, he opened the chat where five new messages greeted him, the last one ending with "what about you?"


    Humming to himself with a touch of irony, Luca scanned her responses. First, a polite "Good Morning," then, "It''s been a while," followed by, "I thought you wouldn''t text or call." Just beneath that, a one-minute gap later, came, "I''m in Italy now for school applications, I''m doing pretty fine," and finally, "what about you?"


    Not bad, Luca thought. And to think I''d worried I had scared her away. The ease with which Isabella engaged surprised him and sparked a renewed sense of hope and investment.


    The last detail Isabella shared caught Luca''s interest. He''d been curious about her age for a while because he never wanted to ask her straight away. School applications, she said. That likely made her Sophia''s age, just about to enter college.


    Luca mulled over what to reply, spending over ten minutes staring blankly at the hotel room''s cabinet and shelves. He''d once heard that not overthinking things often led to more genuine, successful outcomes. With this renewed sentiment, Luca hammered at the screen: Will be in Berlin by the end of tomorrow for more core training.


    After a brief pause, he added: Good luck with the school applications.


    He dropped back onto the bed, eyes drifting up to the ceiling, phone still in hand. His life had taken such a drastic turn, and he could barely recognize who he was anymore. He wondered just how much more things would change once he finally reached F1.


    With a long exhale, Luca let his eyes close for a moment.


    [Ding!]


    [Host is yet to complete Tuesday''s Daily Quest]


    Luca couldn''t tell if he consciously chose to ignore the notification or if the pull of sleep was simply too strong.

 Chapter 54 Respite 4

    Luca sat up on his bed, stretched, yawned, and took a moment to meditate.[SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Host was unable to complete Tuesday''s Daily Quest]


    Luca rubbed his sleepy eyes as the System''s message appeared. "Oh, I totally forgot. I was so sleepy," he muttered, realizing this was the first time he hadn''t finished a Daily Quest. "You did say you give punishments for failing Daily Quests, didn''t you?"


    [Yes, host.]


    "Alright, so go ahead. I''m curious."


    [Are you sure, host? The System can pardon this instance.]


    Luca''s curiosity won over. He''d never faced a Daily Quest punishment from the System, and he was intrigued by what it would entail. "Yes, yes. Just give me the punishment."


    [Please note: This action cannot be reversed.]


    [Issuing...]


    [Punishment for Failing Tuesday''s Daily Quest:


    -Persistent Dehydration]


    [Status: Issued]


    [Duration: 3 hours]


    Luca blinked, wiping his eyes to make sure he was reading that correctly. The punishment¡ªpersistent dehydration¡ªwas there in bold System font. He let out a dry chuckle. "You''ve got to be kidding me. Why dehydration, of all things?" He asked, biting his lips. "Did you deduct any of my attribute scores¡­?"


    [No, host. Your Tuesday Daily Quest did not have Deduction Punishments attached.]


    [Additionally, punishments are randomly selected from a comprehensive database of punishments.]


    "Wait, you''re serious about this persistent dehydration? You know I drink water all the time."


    [Duration: 3 hours]


    [Calculating...]


    [Your Tuesday Daily Quest Punishment will last until approximately 8:30.]


    Three hours? Really? Luca shook his head, incredulous.


    He couldn''t believe the System was serious about issuing such a peculiar punishment. Staying hydrated was vital, especially after his intense workouts¡ªit kept him balanced and energized. The status showed ''Issued,'' so he decided to see if it was legit.


    Reaching for the water bottle on his nightstand, he took a long drink, emptying it. To his surprise, his mouth still felt parched, and his throat remained dry, like a desert. "No way," he muttered. "This is... kinda cool. But why didn''t you issue it while I was sleeping? I could''ve skipped needing water at night."


    [System was offline.]


    [Host should begin Daily Routine.]


    [System has nullified all liquid intake requirements for Wednesday''s Daily Routine. You can now complete Wednesday''s Routine without failing due to liquid intake.]


    Luca''s eyes wandered to a stack of Fijee energy drinks sitting on a small table in his hotel room. The curiosity gnawed at him to know how far this could go. "Even that won''t help, huh?" he asked.


    [Yes, host. All liquids are included. Your thirst cannot be quenched for the next 3 hours.]


    "Wow. I didn''t see that coming." S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He laughed dryly, a nervous edge to his voice. "I might collapse at the gym."


    The thought of skipping today''s Daily Routine crossed his mind¡ªthere weren''t any penalties for missing it. But he pushed that idea away. This was just another challenge, a hurdle to overcome. Besides, there was something intriguing about pushing through discomfort. It might even turn into one of those stories he''d tell with a proud grin. "Alright, let''s do this," he said, rolling out of bed.


    Brushed. Dressed. Drove to the facility. Hit the gym.


    The workout was grueling, his body screaming for water as every muscle burned and his throat felt like sandpaper. Dizziness crept up on him, making each rep feel like a battle. But Luca embraced the discomfort, determined to see it through.


    After what felt like an eternity, he dropped onto a bench, gasping for air, drained beyond belief. "I might die before I even make it to F1," he whispered between shallow breaths, suddenly regretting his earlier enthusiasm for the punishment. Desperate, he gulped down a bottle of water and even a can of Fijee, but the liquid felt useless, sliding down without any relief, as if his throat and tongue were coated in waterproof film.


    Wobbling to his feet, Luca stumbled out of the facility and into his car. Sara, waiting outside, took one look at his pale face and frowned in concern. "Are you okay? You look... drained."


    "Just gym fatigue," Luca managed, giving her a weak smile.


    Once they returned to the hotel, Luca rushed for a bath, hoping that the steady stream of water against his skin might somehow ease the unrelenting dryness within him. It brought some relief, but it wasn''t enough to quench the overwhelming thirst. He avoided eating, glancing frequently at the wall clock, bottle of water already in hand, waiting for 8:30. His foot tapped impatiently on the rug as the seconds ticked by.


    [Ding!]


    [Punishment for Failing Tuesday Daily Quest


    -Persistent Dehydration]


    [Status: Lifted]


    Without wasting a moment, Luca tilted his head back and drank deeply from the open bottle, nearly choking in his eagerness. The chilled water rushed down his parched throat, bringing an immediate, soothing wave of relief. He felt the tension in his shoulders melt away as he drank, each gulp producing a rhythmic sound as his Adam''s apple bobbed up and down.


    Luca drained the bottle completely. The cool liquid rejuvenated him, spreading throughout his body and clearing the cloudiness that had weighed on his mind. Satisfaction washed over him as he exhaled. "Ahhhh," he murmured, savoring the taste. Water had never been so heavenly.


    He set down the empty bottle on the nightstand with a soft thud, staring at its emptiness with relief. "I don''t think I''ll miss a Daily Quest again," Luca muttered, taking his gaze to the table where his food was kept. It must be getting cold, he thought.


    He stood up slowly, a newfound energy coursing through his limbs as he made his way to the table. Despite knowing it wasn''t the best habit, Luca browsed his phone while eating the meal, which reminded him of the one he had before the race on Saturday.


    He checked the team''s travel plans. Everything was perfectly laid out¡ªflight details, hotel reservations in Dubai, and a fully packed itinerary of events. All logistics were in place, ensuring that Trampos Racing was ready for the next step.


    Satisfied, Luca set his phone aside and focused on his meal. With the flight scheduled for 3 p.m., he had half the day to himself.


    Luca planned his next few hours with leisure in mind, involving nothing more than staying put and enjoying the dim comfort of his room. His gaze fell on his laptop charging in the corner, a smile creeping across his face. He indulged in games and movies, soaking in the rare downtime before taking a short nap. The alarm at 1 p.m. jolted him awake, signaling it was time to prepare for the upcoming journey.

 Chapter 55 Under the Banner of Red, Black, and White

    The flight back to Germany was long and exhausting. They boarded a certain Airbus A270 for the 14-hour journey to Dubai, where they had a brief two-hour layover. The stop provided a chance to stretch their legs and grab snacks. Luca and Ansel wandered through the airport shops, absorbing the city''s vibrant nighttime ambiance. The comfort and allure of Dubai made Luca ponder if it might be the ideal future home for his mother and sister.The next leg to Frankfurt took around six hours, during which Luca managed to sleep twice. He ate dinner onboard, sticking to his diet, while engaging in lighthearted banter with the Trampos Racing staff. Their camaraderie was infectious, and Luca couldn''t shake the thought that he might become too attached to them by the end of the season.


    The final flight to Berlin was a brief hour-long journey, and they arrived in the afternoon. The sun blazed overhead with relentless intensity as they exited the plane, casting intense heat across the tarmac. As the team continued their chatter and laughter, Luca zoned out, seeking a moment of solitude. He reached for his MP3 player, letting heavy metal and intense instrumentals wash over him.


    Loaded with their belongings and gear, the team made their way to the large bus waiting for them at the airport. It was painted in the signature red, white, and black of Trampos Racing, ready to ferry them to their headquarters. The atmosphere remained lively as they boarded.


    Luca still found it difficult to believe that this crew¡ªprevious drivers, engineers, mechanics, strategists, data analysts, tire changers, and even the unsung heroes in logistics¡ªdid this 12 times a year for an entire season. Now, he understood why every engineer and mechanic screamed in joy and fell silent in sadness during the race. This was a whole new passion for them, and Luca suddenly felt unworthy to be among such dedication, especially after recalling his own lost love for the sport some time ago. Taking a deep breath, he made an internal promise: this season would be different. Trampos Racing would rise together, and they would celebrate their first championship. They would have more to celebrate.


    As the bus maneuvered through familiar streets on the way to the Trampos Racing headquarters, Luca felt a sense of nostalgia settle over him. The afternoon sun cast a golden glow, its intensity tempered by the tinted windows, softening the rays that reached his face.


    When the bus finally pulled into the open parking lot, Luca could see it was already filled with various vehicles, likely belonging to the management and notable figures of the team. The crew began disembarking, their chatter filling the air¡ªsome conversations light and joking, others more serious as the team reconnected with those who hadn''t traveled.


    The drivers¡ªLuca, Ansel, Haas, and the young American, Victor¡ªwere excused for the rest of the day to recuperate, while the rest of the team got straight to work. There was a palpable energy in the headquarters as luggage and equipment clattered and voices mingled in the background.


    Luca wheeled his suitcase into his modest living space, pausing to take in the small but functional room. The neatly made bed, the minimalist decor, and the wide windows that let in the filtered sunlight made the space feel almost temporary. He frowned at the thought. What am I thinking? Why am I considering staying here permanently?


    He couldn''t believe he had the idea of treating this room as home when he could easily afford to rent or buy a much better place. The distant sounds of crew members unloading equipment and talking drifted into the room, grounding him in the moment. Determined to change his mindset, Luca resolved to find a better place.


    Sitting at the edge of his bed, he quickly sent a message to Sara, who was still en route with Mallow. He outlined his plans about securing a more permanent and comfortable residence.


    Luca then turned his attention to his notifications. Isabella had sent him four new messages, the last one ending with, "What do you think?" S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He hesitated, biting his lip. Experience with his sister Sophia had taught him that when a woman asks, "What do you think?" it demands thoughtful consideration and a response that aligns with what she likely wanted to hear. Luca decided to stall his reply, wanting to choose his words carefully.


    He then decided to check the upcoming race details. If I remember correctly, we don''t have any more races until mid-April, right?


    Monaco Grand Prix


    Location: Monte Carlo, Monaco


    Date: Apr. 10


    Track: Circuit de l''¨¦toile (A.K.A. Stellar)


    A smirk crept across Luca''s face. He knew Monaco well and its legendary glamorous association with motorsport. The variety in race locations never failed to amaze him, from iconic circuits to unexpected city streets.


    Recalling the Daily Quest his System had assigned while on the bus ride to the headquarters, Luca stood up to get started.


    ------------------------------------------------


    At the break of dawn the next day, routines commenced as usual until it was time for the team training session that Mr. Grant had scheduled for all drivers. Enjoy more content from empire


    The facility doors opened for a newcomer¡ªa middle-eastern man who introduced himself as Luca''s Personal Trainer. Each of the four Trampos Racing drivers had their own dedicated trainer, present for both team-wide and individual gym sessions. This was Luca''s first face-to-face encounter with his trainer, matching everything Sara had shown him on her phone. The man was of average height, with dark brown skin, black cropped hair, and a chiseled jawline that hinted at his physical discipline.


    "Good morning, Luca. My name is Amir, Amir James," the trainer introduced himself, extending a hand for a casual handshake. Luca''s eyes didn''t miss the visible muscles carved into Amir''s arms and shoulders. He cautiously reached out and grasped Amir''s hand. As he expected, Amir''s hand was as strong as steel.


    "I''m glad to have you as my personal trainer," Luca said with a smile.


    "The pleasure is mutual, my friend," Amir responded, scanning the training hub with an approving nod.


    The training hub featured exceptionally advanced gyming equipments, especially cardio stations and free weights lying everywhere. There were simulation rooms to the side to give a large space for dynamic sessions and also for the team to walk freely like they were doing. The walls proudly displayed the Trampos Racing banner and the bold logo of their top sponsor, Catapult, unified in shades of red, black, and white.


    Catapult had a reputation for pioneering wearable training technology¡ªGPS trackers, heart rate monitors, and other devices athletes used to fine-tune their performance. Luca glanced down at his wrist, where one of Catapult''s sleek trackers blinked steadily.


    "I''ll get today''s training draft from your principal, tailor it to your strengths, and add a touch of my own," Amir said with a confident smile before walking away to gather the materials.


    Just then, Ansel entered, a towel draped over his shoulder, his German trainer following closely behind. The trainer''s muscular frame made him look more like a bodyguard than a fitness expert. Within minutes, Haas and the final Trampos driver filed into the room with their trainers in tow, the sound of weights clanking, staff bustling, and jokes filling the space. It felt as if every member of Trampos Racing was part of a tightly-knit family.


    The training crew began setting up performance metrics and screens, aligning everything for the session ahead.


    Soon, training commenced under Mr. Grant''s watchful eye. The physical trainers moved in tandem with the team, their expertise blending seamlessly to push the drivers to their limits. Each exercise was tailored to build endurance, enhance reflexes, and prepare the body for the physical strains of the track, all essential for peak performance in the relentless world of motorsport.

 Chapter 56 Under the Banner of Red, Black, and White 2

    "Gaffer said timed laps, and timed laps it is," said a crew member as he walked down the short ramp from the telemetry room, holding a draft sheet in his hand. The early morning sun cast a sharp glare, forcing him to squint as he approached the group of Trampos Racing team members and their drivers¡ªLuca, Ansel, Hahn, and Victor, the young American.Another crew member took the sheet, scanned it in a second, and nodded approvingly. "Looks like the usual schedule. But maybe we can spice things up a bit. What do you all think?" he asked.


    Ansel smirked, his hands on his hips, looking as though his racing suit was tailored exclusively for him. "What kind of fun? Letting Beany finally take a lap?" he teased, gesturing at Victor.


    The entire crew burst into laughter, the sound carrying down the length of the track. Some playfully jostled Victor, who responded with an exaggerated grumble while being nudged around.


    "Of course, why not? Everyone of us is training today," another crew member pointed out with a sharp pause, his eyes dancing around with amused mischief. "but at least we get to really do our jobs on the track!" He boomed.


    The laughter roared again, mingling with the morning breeze, as masculine and feminine chuckles interwove seamlessly. Even Luca joined in as it was refreshing to have someone to poke fun at. Victor''s zero driving time had become an inside joke, one that never seemed to lose its charm.


    Even Haas allowed a faint smile to surface. He stood ready, helmet in hand. "Alright," he said, his gaze softening as he looked at Victor. "Ease up on him. His time will come. Just keep showing up, like the rest of us."


    The laughter subsided, and they all transitioned into a heavy chatter as the cars were towed to the edge of the track where they stood. Luca indulged into some deep conversations with Ansel and the team crew. Most of their talks basely had no path, it was all jokes and light-hearted banter toward each other.


    When the single-seaters were finally positioned, Luca''s System scanned them methodically, confirming that each car was in peak condition. The sleek frames glistened under the sun, the scent of petrol rich and heady, giving Luca an intoxicating sense of anticipation. The crew members continued their thorough checks on the cockpits, tires, and engines, ensuring the Dallaras were prepped and ready to roar.


    "Speed is all it is, then. Keep the engines warm, fingers flexible, and the asphalt hot," said another crew member, tapping the polished surface of one of the cars. He cast a look back at the telemetry room where Mr. Moritz and Mr. Grant observed their every move from behind the glass. "Let''s get to it. Time''s ticking. C''mon, Beany, hop in," he sneered.


    "For him, it''s about survival, not speed," another crew member shouted, triggering another round of laughter.


    Victor grumbled, shoving his helmet on with a sharp motion. Luca exchanged glances with Ansel and Haas, who were similarly donning their helmets. He followed suit, the familiar HUD of his System appearing before his eyes, icons shimmering briefly before forming into an organized display. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    All four Trampos Racing drivers entered their single-seaters smoothly with rehearsed movements. Luca settled in his cockpit, the feeling of being in that tight space felt somewhat normal to him now as his System dubiously synced him with the Dallara. He glanced at the telemetry displays while settling his grip on the wheel, caressing the buttons.


    [Host is now synced with Dallara (F2 04)]


    Luca took a quick look at Ansel''s car ahead, then glanced sideways at Haas, with Victor positioned behind him. Their zigzag formation provided ample space for each to accelerate unhindered.


    "Alright, let''s go," a crew member announced, clapping his hands beside Ansel''s car. The team around them erupted in cheers and light applause as the drivers powered up their engines.


    They launched into the training session, speeding through the track in fluid, synchronized movements. This practice of timed laps gave each driver the opportunity to push their limits while staying connected over the comms. For Luca, it was surprisingly reassuring to hear all four of them in conversation¡ªa rare moment of solidarity.


    Victor, Haas, and Luca eased off the throttle to let Ansel surge ahead in a breathtaking burst of speed. In turn, Luca took advantage of the newfound space to accelerate sharply, followed closely by Haas, and then Victor.


    The exercise continued with the drivers alternating leads and practicing strategic maneuvers, each lap punctuated by precision and control, while the telemetry room recorded every data closely.


    "Woohoo!" The Trampos Racing crew erupted into cheers as the single-seaters roared to the edge of the track. Thumbs shot up and hands clapped as they attended to the drivers'' needs in their cockpits. Mr. Moritz joined them now, a file tucked under his arm as he joined in the applause, the bright sun showing no sign of hiding behind the clouds.


    "Great work, boys¡ªfantastic job," Moritz praised, tapping Ansel''s car, which still hummed with energy. "Next, we''ll focus on the fluidity of our pit stops," he announced, casting a glance over the team, his eyes meeting masculine and feminine faces. "I say this every session, not because I doubt you, but because every second in the pit matters. The quicker we pit, the quicker our boys are back on track. We can''t afford any mistakes."


    Crew member 3, a lanky man with tousled hair, rallied everyone with a clap of his hands. "Alright, you heard the boss! Let''s get to our units."


    The team cheered in response and chatted all through as they walked across the track to the pit. It was like a cut out lane, adjacent to the track, with a whole stock of fresh tires and white hoses were nearly coiled.


    With murmurs of enthusiasm, the team made their way to the pit lane¡ªa compact stretch adjacent to the track, lined with pristine tires and neatly coiled hoses.


    Moritz brought the radio to his lips. **Okay, we''ll run five pit stops from each of you. Complete a lap and enter the pit lane one after the other, fast and seamless**


    Ansel revved up, leading the group as the crew took their positions, each member knowing their role by heart.


    The drivers navigated the track, slicing through turns and straights until the pit lane came into view. Ansel, at the front, surged ahead, ready for the first pit.


    The crew members hurriedly maneuvered around the pit area, ensuring everything was in place. Tires were lined up meticulously; fresh rubber glistened under the sun. Fuel hoses were checked and double-checked, while tools were organized for quick access. Every Motorsport team knew there was no room for error at a pitstop.


    Ansel''s car hurriedly approached the pit lane, and the crew readied themselves. Moritz''s voice echoed through the radio. **First car up¡ªHan. Positions ready, everyone.**


    One crew member hurried to the front, ready to lift Ansel''s car as it roared toward the pit lane, while others positioned themselves strategically by the tires, tension and focus in their eyes behind their visors. As soon as Ansel''s car halted, the crew sprang into flawless, synchronized action.


    Crew member 7 dropped to the ground, wrench in hand, and expertly removed the first tire, flinging it aside as Crew member 2 slid in seamlessly with a fresh one, locking it in place with swift, precise movements. Across the car, Crew member 10 matched the rhythm perfectly, securing the opposite tire with practiced skill. Meanwhile, Crew member 4 dashed to the front of the car, deftly attaching the fuel hose for a small refuel.


    Whirr! Screw! And click went the fuel nozzle, Crew member 4 yanking it away.


    "Clear!"


    Ansel''s engine roared as he bolted out of the pit lane.


    **6.4 seconds**


    There was no time to rest as Luca''s Dallara approached with increasing speed. Haas and Victor would follow shortly, and Ansel would repeat the pit cycle seamlessly.


    Luca felt the familiar lift as the crew set to work with mechanical efficiency. The sound of pneumatic tools and clanking metal filled the air. A soft thud followed, then the wave of a hand signaled him to go.


    **3.2 seconds! Perfect!**


    Luca hit the throttle and shot out of the pit, catching a brief cheer from the crew before they refocused¡ªHaas was already approaching fast.


    **Alright, let''s keep this momentum going**


    The team continued their pit stop training for another thirty minutes, pushing through the fatigue. As the sun beat down, the crew members executed their roles with increasing skill and coordination. Each time a driver rolled into the pit lane, the team operated by shouting commands and coordinating movements without a hitch.


    **7.6 seconds**


    **3.4 seconds**...


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    "Oh, thank you, System," Luca muttered as he completed his fifth lap, his car coming to a halt behind Ansel''s.


    As the session wrapped up, the crew was visibly exhausted, but their spirits remained high. They exchanged congratulatory slaps on the back, proud of their improvement, knowing that their hard work would pay off when it mattered most on race day.


    It was around 1 pm as they retired to the bleachers next to the training hub to relax and ease their muscles. The cars were being towed away, and the track lanes were being cleaned of any fuel spills.


    "Monte Carlo, April tenth isn''t far from us, so don''t think that way," Mr. Grant spoke as he met up with the team after the final session. "We still have work to do. We still have to hone not only our drivers but ourselves to perfection. This week is packed, and we''ll be here every day if we want to do well in Circuit de l''¨¦toile."


    "Yuppp," Mr. Moritz chimed in with a sigh. "Stellar is right smack in the middle of the city." Discover hidden tales at empire


    Luca remembered Circuit de l''¨¦toile vividly. He recalled watching his father race there once, a magnificent track right in the city where buildings flanked the edges of the course. A thought occurred to him. "Is it a night race?" he asked instinctively.


    "You''re damn right it is," crew member 1 replied, his tone tinged with something like displeasure. "It''s always night races in that Circuit."


    Luca couldn''t understand why the crew member wasn''t thrilled with the race''s time schedule. He loved night races!


    The cool night air rushing past must be otherworldly. The track would be illuminated by vibrant lights and reflections from the buildings, making it all look like a video game. Luca was more than excited to race in such an atmosphere. Imagine winning the championship in Circuit de l''¨¦toile¡ªit''d be as if the heavens themselves had made it so.


    Mr. Grant continued addressing the whole team and finally ended with a few pleasantries.


    Murmurs and chatter erupted as everyone had the chance to joke about some of the mistakes they''d made during the pitstop training. They all headed into the facility''s cafeteria to grab lunch.


    --


    A/N: Preparing mass release.... will take a while.

 Chapter 57 Strategic Shifts

    [SYSTEM ONLINE..][Happy New Month, host.]


    [Calculating progress within the last month...]


    [... progress calculated: 94.5%]


    [Host should begin his Daily Routine.]


    Luca rose from bed without delay, diving into what was his endless grind that paved his path to success.


    Amir stood at the gym entrance, ready to start their PT-client session. "Happy new month, my friend," he greeted with his usual enthusiasm.


    "Same here, mate," Luca replied, though a trace of gloom shadowed his tone, matching the overcast sky outside.


    The morning was dim and cold, a blanket of gray stretching across the city. Droplets of dew shimmered on parked sedans and SUVs, their surfaces reflecting the muted light, while the rooftops of nearby buildings bore the same glistening sheen.


    Luca''s eyes felt heavy, despite following every recommendation his System provided and clocking enough sleep hours.


    "I received your focus plans and studied them well," Amir said with a lively grin as Luca approached. "I must say, you''re quite serious about developing quick reflexes while maintaining perfect balance, and enhancing your cognitive reasoning to ensure split-second decision-making on the track."


    Luca nodded as they stepped inside the gym. "I need to eliminate mistakes, especially when I''m wheel-to-wheel with another driver," he said, punctuating the statement with a deep breath and a small jump to ignite energy in his limbs.


    "Seems like you and your Team Principal are on the same wavelength," Amir continued. "The draft I received from him outlines a strong emphasis on situational awareness and reaction training. I''ve combined those elements with my own tweaks to create a program that I think you''ll find both challenging and effective."


    "Okay, let''s hear it," Luca said.


    Amir started speaking, pausing occasionally to check the thick sheaf of papers in his hands to ensure accuracy. "Multi-tasking drills," he said confidently.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [System is analyzing and retrieving training program issued to host.]


    [Multi-tasking Drills analyzed.]


    "Simulated close-quarters racing scenarios."


    [High-pressure Simulations analyzed.]


    "Reaction time drills," Amir concluded.


    [Reaction Time Drills analyzed.] S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Ding!]


    [Successfully Retrieved!]


    Amir lowered the papers with a satisfied grin. "With this program, my friend, you''ll be as reflexive as a cat out there. Let''s see who dares to disrupt your flow and make your car skid."


    Luca chuckled lightly, already stretching to begin his usual Intermediate Bundle exercises. "Thanks for the support, man," he said before launching into burpees.


    Though Luca appreciated Mr. Grant''s attention to his situational awareness and reaction reflexes, it added an extra layer of stress. The last thing he wanted was for Mr. Grant''s focus to be on him, scrutinizing every move. He just wanted to race for Trampos Racing with no more attention than necessary¡ªaside from healthy media coverage obviously.


    Amir kept a vigilant eye on Luca''s form as he moved through his exercises. Any lapse¡ªa knee not bending enough or a misaligned posture¡ªwas met with a demonstration of the correct stance. "Keep your core tight, my friend. That''s the key," Amir reminded, positioning himself to show the proper alignment.


    Luca nodded outwardly as a show of appreciation, though inside, he wished Amir would ease away a little bit. Pushing through the creeping fatigue, Luca powered through the intense drills.


    "Good job to you, my friend!" Amir called out with his trademark enthusiasm when Luca finally finished.


    Great. I''ve got an overzealous personal trainer.


    "Now, let''s see what we can do about Reaction Time Drills," Amir continued, signaling for them to move to the next station. "We''re focusing on light reaction drills today. I''m sure you''re familiar with them."


    Luca followed closely with a towel draped over his shoulder. They approached a sleek, metallic vertical platform embedded with an array of colored LED lights set up against the wall. The lights flashed randomly, designed for quick-response training.


    [ACTIVITY: LIGHT REACTION DRILLS]


    [EQUIPMENT: LED LIGHT GRID]


    [Host will respond to sporadically lit lights by tapping the corresponding area on a touchpad.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of 12 reactions, focusing on improving speed and accuracy. It also enhances reflexes and decision-making under pressure.]


    As Amir spoke, Luca''s System reinforced the details of the exercise. He placed his hands at the edge of the touchpad, feeling its cool, smooth surface beneath his fingers.


    Amir stepped back, giving him space and an encouraging nod. "Stay relaxed and anticipate the lights. The goal is to react quickly and accurately. Don''t overthink, just respond," Amir advised.


    [Let us proceed with LIGHT REACTION DRILLS]


    Ting!


    Luca''s instincts sharpened as the first light, red, flashed on. He lunged forward, tapping the corresponding spot on the touchpad with precise timing. The light blinked off and was replaced almost instantly by another, green this time. Luca''s hand followed, tapping the next spot with swift precision as the exercise continued.


    This is¨Cthis is.... kinda fun though. System? How fast am I responding?


    [1st set completed]


    [250 miliseconds]


    [Accuracy: 91.67 %]


    Not bad at all. This is not a bad score. That means I''m not training to correct my reflexes and awareness, I''m actually trying to make it better?!


    [It seems that way, host.]


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Agility: 17


    Track Awareness: 15


    Reflexes: 18]


    Luca studied the figures. They were solid, but not flawless. If they had been perfect, his steering would have responded seamlessly when Miles flanked him with that aggressive cut-in during the race. He pushed the thought aside and prepared for the next set, determined to do better.


    He resumed the drill with heightened concentration, each tap growing smoother as the sequence of flashing lights sped up. Red, green, blue¡ªLuca''s hands moved like they were wired to the grid itself, each motion more fluid and confident than the last.


    [2nd set completed]


    [230 milliseconds]


    [Accuracy: 95%]


    Nice. I''m getting sharper.


    Without pausing, Luca launched into the final round, muscles firing on instinct. His fingers struck each light with clockwork precision, every misstep minimized, his focus unyielding.


    [Activity completed]


    [Final Time: 225 milliseconds]


    [Accuracy: 97%]


    Luca stepped back, breathing steadily. "That should do," he murmured, satisfied with his progress. Time to move on to the next activity.


    Amir guided him to the simulation stations, the rooms prepped for advanced close-quarters racing simulations. A female crew member was already setting up the equipment and gave Luca a thumbs-up when she finished and he responded with a smile.


    [ACTIVITY: HIGH PRESSURE SIMULATIONS]


    [EQUIPMENT: RACING SIMULATOR]


    [Host will engage in simulated races against computer drivers on circuits designed to mimic real-world tracks, focusing on tight racing conditions. The simulation will emphasize quick decision-making, overtaking, defending positions, and reacting to unexpected maneuvers by opponents.]


    [This activity will consist of 3 timed sessions, each lasting 10 minutes. Between sessions, short breaks will allow for performance analysis. The goal is to enhance reflexes, situational awareness, and tactical decision-making when under pressure from rival drivers in close proximity.]


    Exactly what I need, Luca thought as he slipped on the simulator gear and settled into the cockpit-like seat. He meticulously adjusted and secured every part, ensuring each felt right against him and fit comfortably in his grasp. His hands wrapped firmly around the force-feedback steering wheel as he glanced at the curved screen before him, displaying a digital recreation of the circuit. With one last check, he pulled the visor down over his eyes, ready to begin.


    Amir sat on a leather bench behind Luca, arms crossed and eyes focused on the screen displaying Luca''s race in real-time. He watched intently as Luca skillfully maneuvered through tight and complex sections of the track. Though Amir was neither a Team Principal nor a racing strategist, he found Luca''s driving impressive, almost instinctual from Luca''s POV.


    It felt as if Luca was one with the track, seamlessly anticipating each bend and chicane, guiding his car with precise tilts to ensure the cleanest exits possible.


    As the race continued, the same female staff member approached and informed Amir that Mr. Grant, the Team Principal, was calling for him. Amir was surprised by the timing of the call but realized this was Luca''s final session of the day and that the driver knew what he was doing. Reluctantly, Amir stood up and left to meet with Mr. Grant.


    The Team Principal had important feedback and plans to share regarding Luca''s progress. As Luca''s Personal Trainer, it was essential for Amir to stay informed and aligned with any changes or strategies Trampos Racing wanted to implement.


    [Session 3 Completed.]


    [Performance Report: 87%]


    [Good job, host.]


    Luca leaned back, catching his breath as his heartbeat gradually slowed. The simulated applause and cheers on the display felt like a reassuring pat on the back.


    By the time Luca finished his session, Amir returned from Mr. Grant''s office. He congratulated Luca and assisted him out of the simulator seat.


    "It''s an hour past noon," Amir noted. "Get some rest, and we''ll pick up tomorrow, starting a new scheme."


    Not really catching his words, Luca nodded and took a long drink from his water bottle. He and Amir walked out of the gym, exchanging casual farewells before parting ways¡ªAmir heading toward the gate.


    [Good job, host. You can proceed to the next phase of your Daily Routine. Your gym session is complete.]


    Just as Luca reached the steel stairs leading to his quarters, the crew member who had helped with the simulator earlier appeared, her hair swept by the gentle breeze of the still-gloomy sky.


    "Gaffer wants to see you," she said quickly.


    -------------------------------------------------


    Luca didn''t know why Mr. Grant wanted to see him, but meetings with the head of the team rarely promised good news for any athlete.


    To his surprise, Mr. Grant stood on the balcony of the staff building, staring out at the Trampos Racing track, where a light fog veiled the surface.


    Luca approached and stood at the doorway. "You wanted to see me, sir?" he announced his presence.


    "Yes," Mr. Grant replied promptly, turning to face him. "It''s about the upcoming Monaco race. I wanted to congratulate you and give you a bit of encouragement. We''re counting on you to bring in points."


    "It''s no problem, sir," Luca said, trying to mask his apprehension.


    "But there''s more," Mr. Grant continued, his tone shifting. "After Monaco, you won''t be behind the wheel for the next two GPs."


    Luca''s eyes widened. "Why?" he asked, the question coming out before he could stop himself.


    "Haas will be taking your spot," Mr. Grant said flatly. "The board will explain in detail, but it''s a formal decision that we believe is best for the team''s overall progress at this stage. It''s always good to implement strategies early in the season."


    Luca''s mind raced. Being benched for two main races was unexpected, and the thought of watching Haas partner with Ansel on the track made him uneasy. He wasn''t sure he could sit in the sidelines for two GPs. "What about the Sprints? Will I still participate in those?" he asked.


    "No, you won''t," Mr. Grant confirmed. "During your benching period, you''ll be briefed on aspects of race management. This decision is 90% strategic and 10% tied to your new program. You''ve been assigned a platinum training program, and as a newer driver, we''re not entirely confident that you can handle both the strain of competing and the demands of the program simultaneously. Do you understand?"


    "A new training program?" Luca echoed, needing clarity.


    "Luca, I''d prefer it if you refrained from questioning me further. Maintaining a solid manager-driver relationship is essential. Your personal trainer has been informed of the details and will brief you. I''m sharing this with you personally as a courtesy," Mr. Grant said, pausing to draw a breath. "Now, do you understand?"


    "I understand, sir."

 Chapter 58 Strategic Shifts 2

    This was the first time Luca had ever seen Ansel laugh until he was gasping for breath. All Luca could do was sit still and endure the teasing as the bus rattled its way toward the airport.Luca groaned but couldn''t help finding it a bit amusing. He sighed and turned away from Ansel, whose face had turned red from laughter. "You''re supposed to have my back," Luca said. "Y''know you''d team up with Haas then."


    Ansel finally caught his breath, still chuckling. "Forget that for now," he said between snickers. "You''re going to sit at the pit and learn¡­" He paused, a grin stretching wide across his face, ready to burst into laughter again. "What did you call it?"


    "Platinum program," Luca muttered, fueling the humor in the air as Ansel broke into another fit of laughter. Luca rolled his eyes. "I''m sure Mr. Grant will put me back in if Haas doesn''t perform well in the first race."


    Ansel wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and rested an arm against the window. "He better," he said, his gaze drifting to the road as he recovered from his laughter. "I''ve raced with Erik before, and I can tell you, the chemistry was nowhere near what we have. I need you there, partner. But that doesn''t mean picturing you in reserve isn''t hilarious," Ansel added with a smirk. "Just imagine you, sitting there¡­ he he!"


    "Alright, enough," Luca muttered, sinking deeper into his seat. He pulled out his phone, hoping it would distract him until the flight, saving his loud music for when he''d be on the plane heading to Monaco.


    Mallow had messaged him earlier, warning that the planned benching could take a significant toll and jeopardize their sole sponsorship bonuses¡ªpotentially costing Luca over $100,000. Luca sighed. It wasn''t even the finances or the potential profit that bothered him about being sidelined.


    Taking a look at the Driver''s Standings of the F2 Championship, Luca''s concern deepened. The realization hit him hard that two races were more than enough for the standings to shift dramatically, creating an insurmountable gap that could potentially push him out of the top five. The thought gnawed at him that the climb back up would be brutal, no doubt.


    Max Addams sat confidently at 43 points, tied with Ansel. Luca knew Addams was too consistent to place below fifth in any race, which could easily push his score past 70 after the next two races. The idea was troubling. Then there was Miles, whose points were neck-and-neck with Luca''s. The only way Miles'' tally wouldn''t increase was if he somehow DNFed both races¡ªan unlikely scenario. Aaronson, with a solid 23 points, seemed to creep into the background of Luca''s calculations, but deep down, he knew he couldn''t ignore the possibility of Aaronson making a substantial leap in the standings while he was benched.


    Luca drew in a deep breath, pressing his back into the bus seat. System, please show me my status.


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Personal Information:


    Name: Luca Rennick


    Age: 18


    Nationality: Italian ]


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 71kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 32%


    Strength: 14


    Stamina: 18


    Endurance: 21


    Agility: 17


    Intelligence: 16 ]


    Oh c''mon! I''m more than equipped! Just take a look at this! Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [....listing paused.]


    [Actually, host. You have only attained 29% of overall in your Attributes. You are doing well, but there is still a significant gap to acquire.]


    Luca swallowed hard. Oh. He paused, trying to process what this gap truly meant. Does this include understanding my rivals too? He recalled Mr. Grant emphasizing that part of this platinum program was anticipating not just the machinery but the psyche of his competitors. I thought Intelligence covered that?


    [This program does indeed fall under Intelligence and Track Awareness, in the same way responsiveness and speed are encompassed by Agility and Reflexes. Advancing these will contribute to improving Intelligence.]


    "Hm," Luca murmured, eyes darting between the translucent System interface and the dull glow of his phone screen. The realization weighed on him. He needed to be proactive. Can you draft out a separate program, different from what my team has assigned? I want to draw from as many sources as possible.


    [Certainly, host.]


    [System will structure and draft a customized training program as proposed.]


    [...listing resumed.]


    The display resumed its rundown, and Luca''s fingers tightened around his phone.


    [Skills & Techniques: Total Grade - C


    Reflexes: 18


    Overtaking Skill: 19


    Track Awareness: 15


    Pitstop Prodigy: 5


    Others (Locked) ]


    [System will notify host once the training program has been successfully generated.]


    Thank you, Luca thought, exhaling a long breath as he prepared himself for the short 1.5-hour flight to Monaco¡ªa destination that, even in the wildest recesses of his dreams, he never expected to visit.


    Before shutting down his phone, Luca took a moment to scroll through and reply to a few messages, re-engaging in his long, ongoing conversation with Harry. His thumb hovered for a moment when he reached a message he hadn''t responded to in a while.


    Gathering himself, he opened Isabella''s message. To his relief, the "What do you think?" wasn''t some profound inquiry but was simply a question about her choice of college. She had even attached several images that she must have taken time curating.


    Italy was his homeland, yet Luca was clueless when it came to its universities. He examined the images, scrutinizing the prestigious architecture and uniforms with a newfound curiosity. Obviously, he picked the most impressive-looking one, and his mind drifted for a second, picturing Sophia donning that same uniform, attending classes with her usual flair. The thought coaxed a small chuckle out of him before he shut his phone off. By then, the bus had rolled to a halt at the airport.


    The team filed out of the bus, moving in sync, their bags clutched tight as they stepped into the airport. Luca followed, pulling out his MP3 player and fitting in his earpiece, tapping the tiny buttons until the volume pumped up to the beat that fueled him.


    This was it¡ªhis career as an official F2 racer, with eyes set firmly on F1. The benching might be a hurdle, but Luca was determined to make the most of the races that lay ahead, racking up points for the team, and more importantly, for himself.


    Maybe, just maybe, if he delivered a solid performance in Monaco, Mr. Grant would reconsider this benching. Perhaps he''d see that Luca didn''t need all this "refurbishing" he was talking about.

 Chapter 59 Monaco Grand Prix Starting Grid

    "...good evening, everyone! Welcome to the stunning Circuit de l''¨¦toile here in Monaco, where the atmosphere is bright even in the dark as we approach the start of tonight''s F2 race. Just one hour to go until lights out...!""...good evening to you too, Steve. I can feel the excitement and the chill even from our commentary gantry. Circuit de l''¨¦toile never disappoints. A notoriously difficult track for overtaking¡ªonce someone gets ahead, it''s a real challenge to reclaim that position. The Sprint Race earlier today was a testament to that..."


    The Trampos Racing team gathered in the inner space of their garage, a cozy area set up with comfortable seats for their drivers. Luca and Ansel were seated, surrounded by some crew members, while others busied themselves attending to the cars and coordinating with Federation Officials.


    "...so, what you''re suggesting, Jon, is that Ansel Hahn, number 43, stands a good chance of taking victory tonight from Monaco? His pole position could really work to his advantage, don''t you think...?"


    "...absolutely! He''ll need to defend his spot right from the start. With the tight streets of Monte Carlo, once he breaks away, it''ll be difficult for anyone to catch him. But with Max Addams, a name synonymous with speed and skill, right behind him, Hahn will have to push his engine to its limits..."


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    The Trampos Racing booth remained bustling with activity. Luca and Ansel worked side by side, tapping away at their phones as they ran through a light grid exercise, while they waited for Mr. Grant, who was finishing up a quick pre-race interview. The evening air was cold, filling the space with a crisp chill, and the dark sky outside made every light in the room glow even more intensely, casting sharp reflections off the equipment and sleek car bodies.


    "...it''s also a night race, Steve, which adds another layer of challenge. Though the track is wholesomely Illuminated, the visibility might be tricky, who knows. We are not the drivers themselves. But maneuvering through the streets where the track slims down to make a bend could bring about disclarity, if I''d say. Just take a look at street 4 of sector 3, the lights don''t seem to reach there..."


    "....oof, that''s true. Even the cool temperature tonight can affect tire performance. The teams, whether big or small, should adjust their strategies accordingly..."


    Luca looked up from his screen as the commotion in the booth near their paddock grew more intense. The crew made way for Mr. Grant and Mr. Moritz as they moved through the bustling space. He and Ansel put their devices down as Mr. Grant approached, his expression serious and focused.


    "...with only an hour to go, the teams are finalizing their strategies and prepping their cars. This is the third Featured Race of the championship,and every point garnered from today matters. Once again, good evening, and welcome from wherever you are watching. Circuit de l''¨¦toile might have few grandstands, but we can hear your cheers from behind the screens. This is one of our highest television viewership yet! Stay tuned under the lights in Monaco, and let''s see if Hahn could convert what is one of the most favorable tracks for pole position into another victory...!"


    After congratulating Haas for impressively finishing third in the earlier Sprint Race, Mr. Grant revised his other two drivers today on everything that had been strategized between the team. The central focus was the Synergy: The strategy to empower Hahn to secure the highest possible position, with no tolerance for any setbacks. In parallel, Luca would implement and adapt a tactical role, strategically positioning himself within the competition to draw attention away from Hahn while advancing himself. Mr. Grant set up this dual approach to create optimal conditions for Hahn''s effortless success while enhancing Trampos''s overall competitive edge on the track.


    "Alright, everyone knows this is a 62-lap race due to the shorter lap length here," Mr. Moritz said, taking over smoothly. "We''re aiming for our first pit stop around lap 25 to get the most out of the softer tires while maintaining pace. Then another around lap 45, but if the car feels good, don''t take it. Stick to one pit if you can."


    "Especially you, Hahn," Mr. Grant interjected, his tone sharp. "If you can manage with just one stop, do it. We don''t want to risk unnecessary time loss."


    "Understood, sir," Ansel responded, giving a firm nod.


    "Good. And communication is key out there," Mr. Moritz continued. "Let us know if you''re stuck behind a backmarker. With Monaco''s tight streets, any delay could cost you valuable seconds."


    Luca caught Mr. Moritz''s expectant look and nodded with a clear, "Yes, sir."


    A crew member stepped forward and announced that the drivers needed to start suiting up as the cars would be rolled out soon. Moritz clapped his hands, signaling the team into motion. Luca and Ansel got to their feet, their focus shifting to getting fully dressed for the race ahead.


    Alright, let''s do this, Luca muttered inwardly as he slipped on the remaining pieces of his suit, adjusting the fit as he moved. He secured his gloves and tightened the straps, trying to sharpen his focus despite the eager faces of the crew members surrounding him. He glanced at Ansel, who cracked his neck swiftly. In unison, they grabbed their helmets and held them firmly, ready to head out to the track in a couple of minutes.


    The crew made way for the two drivers, tapping them encouragingly as they marched out to the garage where more team members were busy, the bright lights creating an almost surreal atmosphere for Luca.


    As they stepped into the garage, Luca''s eyes settled on his car with the bold number 21 before he slipped on his balaclava and nudged shoulders with another crew member. Two more crew members rushed to him and Ansel, the area bustling and crowded with individuals dressed in red, black, and white.


    "You cut it close this time," the crew member ensuring his safety remarked, her hands prodding Luca''s body as he readied himself. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca chuckled, instantly recognizing her from his last pre-race encounter. "I learn fast to avoid second mistakes," he said as she tapped his chest hard, signaling he was good to go, and that he could now put on his helmet.


    Luca eagerly fit his socked head into his racing helmet, locking the straps beneath his chin and making sure it was secure. The world around him dimmed slightly as he adjusted to the confines of the helmet, the noise of the garage becoming slightly muffled even though he was still in the center of it. He took a moment to breathe and adjust to the airspace in the helmet. Once ready, he glanced at Ansel, who appeared prepared as well.


    As usual, Mr. Grant approached them with some final remarks, emphasizing the strategies that must be adhered to without deviation, and encouraging them not to hesitate when making overtakes, as such opportunities were rare at Circuit de l''¨¦toile.


    After the briefing, their mechanics began rolling the single-seaters out of the garage as directed by the race stewards. Luca and Ansel followed, carefully entering their cars when the moment came, settling comfortably in their cockpits.


    Luca''s System confirmed that the Dallara was primed for action, syncing seamlessly with the powerful machine that gleamed under the bright fluorescent lights of the paddock.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synched with Dallara (F2 04)]


    Even through the thick, protective layers of his racing suit, Luca could feel the sharp, cold air surging through his veins as his car was rolled out, following close behind Ansel''s. The low growl of their engines filled the air, resonating through the narrow streets lined with barriers and illuminated by the distant glow of the city lights.


    The track exuded a haunting quietness, broken only by the soft hums of engines and the echoes of commentary reverberating through the streets. There were few grandstands, replaced by tall buildings whose residents leaned out from balconies to catch glimpses of the impending race. Despite this, Luca could pick up the roars of excited fans, their cheers carrying faintly across the distance.


    A wave of frustration surged through Luca as he eyed his position on the outside of row 3. It annoyed him that the results of the earlier Sprint Race hadn''t determined today''s grid positions. Had they been used, with Haas''s impressive third-place finish, he would have been three spots ahead, giving him a stronger shot at the podium.


    He steadied his body, hands firmly gripping the wheel as the soft purrs of engines around him grew more insistent. Every driver there wanted nothing less than victory, whether they belonged to a well-funded team or an underdog. Luca glanced through his visor, identifying Aaronson positioned just ahead of him and Kristensen on the inside of row 3, having finished fifth in the previous race.


    You won''t see my rear today, Luca silently vowed, letting his fingers graze the wheel''s buttons as if memorizing its structure. His eyes fixed on the starting lights, he calmed his breath.


    **Can I have a word from you?** Ansel''s voice filtered through the comms.


    "Yup, I''m ready," Luca muttered.


    **Let''s do this then**


    "...8:30 pm, and we''re almost ready for the start. Jon, I wonder who has the most pace to make an early move..."


    The track unfolded like a wave of water before Luca, each line being analyzed and calculated by his System before returning to its real-world form.


    He glanced away from the lights briefly, taking in the revving engines ahead to give his System a clear view for track calculations. A path beside Aaronson''s slipstream appeared ideal, and Luca fixed his focus back on the lights, his breath cold and steady.


    "...here we go! The lights are out! Monaco is underway...!"


    All racers slammed on their accelerators, and the air filled with the roar of engines.


    "¡­a surprisingly strong start from Trampos''s Rennick, and he''s already alongside Aaronson! He''s gone for it¡­!"


    Luca raked up an unreal acceleration and managed to surge forward rapidly, capitalizing on the launch as the race officialy begun.


    [Host is participating in an Official Race]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 98 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 108 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 60m


    -Time: 5 sec ]

 Chapter 60 Monaco Grand Prix 2

    Aaronson didn''t hesitate to defend his position early on, but Luca had already accelerated aggressively to his right, matching him nose to nose. Any direct cut-in by Aaronson would lead to an immediate penalty.Luca''s eyes flicked briefly to Ansel, who maintained the lead despite the early engine cluster, just before they approached the first turn that would mark the leaderboard''s first record.


    With his early momentum, Luca managed to slip behind Ansel, his tires raking over the track as he settled into his lane, displaying his rear to Aaronson.


    "¡­Addams trying to steal that lead from Hahn, but Hahn is not giving it to him. He now has to shift focus to the Squadra driver just a second behind him. And my! Look at that! Rennick has thrown Aaronson behind him. We''ve seen many lights-out overtakes, but that''s one to remember¡­!"


    [4th Position]


    [5th Position closing in]


    [6th Position closing in]


    [7th Position closing in]


    As they rounded the curve, Luca''s feet put pressure on the throttle, his car surging forward and his body jolting under the forces. He watched as his speedometer on his System interface sped up while he closed in on Miles'' black-and-golden Dallara, still battling for a stable 4th with Kristensen, who aimed for higher. Aaronson had lagged early behind, but that didn''t mean he still didn''t pose a threat.


    The blue-hued asphalt zoomed beneath their tires as the pack sliced through the first straightaway, made a turn through a street bounded by commercial buildings, weaved through four more turns, before sectioning into another straightaway that would then lead to the grid once more.


    [You are gathering speed]


    [2nd Lap]


    [5th Position closing in]


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to disclose opponent]


    "This Kristensen is underrated," Luca muttered to himself, tilting his wheel to match the movements of Kristensen''s Retona Racing car, the black-and-violet livery gleaming in his side mirror.


    **Don''t let him get close. If he does, you won''t see him again**


    "Understood," Luca responded, his foot firmly on the throttle, only easing up when necessary to navigate the curves. His car sliced through the darker bends of the street. Although his hearing was limited to the radio and the roaring of his own engine, he could still catch the faint whirring of a helicopter above, probably capturing the race from a bird''s-eye view.


    [12th Lap]


    [Stamina +1]


    [5th Position closing in]


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to disclose opponent]


    **Stay sharp. This is how Monaco has always been. Keep your consistency.**


    **Han? Is Addams'' pressure too much?**


    **It is**


    **You see, Luca, you both have defending to do. I''d give anything to see this race finish in the positions you''re holding now. Let''s not falter, eh?**


    **Roger** S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Roger," Luca replied steadily, making a curve that he was eventually familiar with, the sparse cheers of the crowd behind the caged barriers were faint but still motivating.


    [15th Lap]


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    [5th Position closing in rapidly]


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to disclose opponent]


    Ahh, C''mon man. Luca shook his head after glancing at his side mirror. The neon, fluorescent lights illuminating the track reflected off Kristensen''s chassis, further painting a picture of a threatening beast to his P4. Moreover, Miles was significantly far ahead, leaving Luca in a vulnerable position.


    "All these skills¡ªwhen can I unlock them exactly? I''m still stuck with some basic stuff," Luca voiced his complaint to the System as he defended his line, he and Kristensen zipping past the screens, their section becoming the major focus.


    [With these following:


    ¨CLeveling to the next Bundle by completing a Mission


    ¨CMaxing out a current Skill to 20


    ¨CHaving all Attributes 20, 30, 40 or more]


    [5th Position closing in rapidly]


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    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to disclose opponent]


    **Keep to the center, Luca. Do not drop speed. The driver behind you isn''t planning on staying behind for long**


    The high-pitched revving of Kristensen''s engine filled the space between him and Luca. Luca could sense his rival''s nose practically brushing his rear as they zipped through Stellar. He did his best as they approached the next bend, but Kristensen was too close, with Aaronson not far behind.


    "... it''s a game of inches for those two stars. Kristensen is ready to pounce on Rennick at any moment..."


    Kristensen''s car was basically attached to Luca''s rear wing. Luca considered making a sharp drift at the next bend to force Kristensen off his line¡ªmaybe even off the track and into a soft crash.


    [Intelligence +1]


    [Track Span Analysis: 2.5 meters wide (outside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 1.8 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 2.15 meters (2 meters on the left side. 0.15 metres on the right)]


    Luca flicked the gear and sharply tilted his wheel, the tires screeching and leaving a black arc on the asphalt, smoke billowing into the evening air.


    [Calculating host drift exit...]


    [.... successfully calculated]


    Time seemed to freeze for Luca as he chose from three possible routes to direct his nose upon exiting the drift. He opted for the line that would cut ahead of Kristensen. The issue was that his rival, Kristensen, was drifting too.


    "¡­they''re both drifting! This is unbelievable! Look at the closeness¡ªthis could be catastrophic...!"


    Both cars slid sideways, tires fighting for grip. Luca''s direction was aiming to cut in left, while Kristensen could easily exit the drift through the right space Luca created. Luca cursed deeply, his choice of direction turning out horribly wrong as Kristensen was the one who found just enough traction to edge forward. With a deft maneuver, he nudged past Luca, making a very slight contact that sent a soft jolt through both machines.


    [You made a 2.7 g drift, host.]


    [Strength +1]


    [5th Position]


    "¡­Oliver Kristensen takes advantage of that intense moment, leaving Rennick to recover quickly if he wants to stay in contention...!"


    [20th Lap]


    Luca could hear Moritz''s supportive clapping through the radio, but it only deepened his frustration at being overtaken.


    Kristensen wasn''t far ahead, the holographic number 4 now materializing above the violet Dallara in Luca''s view, which his System quickly labeled as a leading opponent.


    Stay calm, Luca. Overtakes happen all the time.


    [Analyzing host and Dallara (F2 04) distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 1 sec away, host.]


    Luca didn''t need a reminder that he wasn''t too far back, and was determined not to let the straightaways widen the gap between him and Kristensen.


    He adjusted his grip on the wheel, fine-tuning his steering sensitivity. A quick flick of his thumb activated the DRS, and he felt the slight change in drag as the wing opened up just as he rounded the next bend. His weight shifted, and his car responded to his command, the tires gripping the asphalt as he straightened out with Kristensen a prey in his visor.


    Aaronson was just behind Luca, engaged in a fierce battle with Max Addams'' teammate, Dani Walding, and the once-magnificent Albert Derstappen of Squadra Corse Jnr, all packed tightly in the 6th to 9th positions. But Luca''s focus remained on offense. His mission in this race wasn''t to be a passive, defensive prey; it was to create chaos among the rivals, giving Hahn a smoother path, thereby leaving just one opponent for his teammate to worry about.


    [You are gathering speed.]


    [Acceleration maxed.]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 300 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 115 bpm


    -Operational Status: 80% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 64000 m


    -Time: 38 min. ]


    Luca was pinned to his seat by the powerful thrust as his car kept covering asphalt in mere seconds, making good use of the straightaway. He effortlessly danced to the slight curve of the track, riskily keeping his speed at a high value as the steel barricades blurred at his sides.


    [Endurance +1]


    [Host is closing in on 4th Position]


    "Now, that''s what I like to hear for a change, System," Luca muttered, briefly glancing at his full System interface for a self-conscious check himself. His eyes drifted to his side mirror, for another check of his position''s safety.


    The track resembled a dark river, illuminated by the blue glow from the towering buildings and the occasional lights positioned along the track. Most of the cars behind him, lacking holographic numbers above them, would regularly blend into the shadows before emerging into the lit sections. Over the course of 20 laps, Luca had noticed this phenomenon but had adapted to it, relying on the System''s regular proximity warnings and any foreign engine roar that reached his ears.


    The gap between Luca and Kristensen began to close as they rounded out the 20th lap and moved into the 21st. Luca kept to the right lane, fully aware that the upcoming street would be a right-hander. His eyes flickered to the interface for a moment, determined to make this turn count.


    [DRS disengaged, host.]


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 78%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 140 km/h]


    Luca angled his wheel, now close enough to Kristensen''s violet Dallara to see the shimmering heat waves rising from its rear.


    [You have ultimately reduced speed]


    Luca adjusted his brake balance to shift more weight to the front tires now that the DRS was disengaged. Every ounce of downforce was crucial at turns, providing better tire grip. He felt the deceleration, watching Kristensen''s car for any changes or signs of slowing down as well.


    Nice, Luca thought, spotting it himself.


    "...Addams is still hot on Hahn''s tail. It''s anyone''s game as they hit the straight..!"


    "...Bellingham is a few seconds behind Addams. Do not count him out, Steve, he could make a move at any moment. He''s really shown us he''s known for aggressive straight overtakes; you can bet he can capitalize on any mistake from those two veterans before him..."


    "...as tight as it is at the lead, so it is everywhere, the tail, and even the middle. This is a reminder the Sprint Race was nothing like this, and we were having one car per section. Now they''re more than a car per section, inching closer to each other. Even Rennick believes the battle for P4 isn''t over; he''s competing with Kristensen again in yet another bend..."


    [Strength +1]


    Luca welcomed the pressure of the G-forces as his tires dug into the asphalt, screeching loudly to Kristensen''s side.


    Kristensen panicked in his cockpit after sizing up his dashboard and car details for a potential pitstop. The momentum and sheer force he had used in chasing Luca throughout the 15th-20th laps had caught up with him, and his car was at an average Operational Status at the moment. Yes, he could manage and push to defend his line. However, Luca, who was exerting his car for the first time, had a much better car status, with the bend favoring him more.


    "...Rennick is right alongside Kristensen at the apex of that dark corner. He''s taking the outside line¡ªthis is a bold move to reclaim what he once had! Kristensen is feeling the pressure, and he''s edging to the third line to keep Rennick at bay¡ªbut¡ªno, they''re exiting the bend and Rennick has his nose in first...!"


    "...He had the superior grip. I''m not surprised he made the overtake stick. P4 is his once again...!"


    [4th Position]


    **Perfect, Luca! Let''s go! Go grab that third! C''mon!**


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    [Ding!]


    [Host has maxed Overtaking Skill!]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a Skill:


    -Corner Chopping: 2 ]


    Luca exhaled as he slipped back onto the asphalt after driving on the rigid curb for a few seconds. Glancing at his side mirror for reassurance, he could see Kristensen lagging, his dilemma for a pitstop evident.


    "Corner chopping? What''s that?" Luca asked, excitement brimming within him to use a new skill.


    [Corner Chopping is a tactical maneuver used to effectively defend one''s position while disrupting an opponent''s racing line during corners. It disrupts their momentum by 5¨C25% and gives you a psychological edge by 5¨C20%]


    "Uhmm, I''m still kinda lost here."


    [Can you remember when System warns host hasn''t unlocked skills to disclose an opponent?]


    "Yeah?"


    [You have unlocked one of the required skills, host. You can now disclose your opponents with a perfect execution of Corner Chopping]


    A grin spread across Luca''s lips as he chuckled softly.

 Chapter 61 Monaco Grand Prix 3

    [25th Lap]"This is a strange skill, how exactly do I execute Corner Chopping so I can disclose my opponent, grab a point, and level up further?" Luca asked, his hands firmly on his wheel as he navigated through the same street tracks of Monaco all over again.


    [Retrieving Data on Corner Chopping...]


    [...Data Retrieved]


    [Execution of Corner Chopping:


    ¨CApproach a corner


    ¨CBrake late and firmly


    ¨CAim for the apex


    ¨CMaintain balance and control


    ¨CAccelerate early


    ¨CDefensive positioning ]


    Luca nodded as he took in the information. This step-by-step was something he did many times but with slight professional adjustments, attached with beneficial points.


    Glancing at his side mirror, Luca could see Kristensen had totally lost the wits of his game, and Aaronson''s orange-and-black car was looming behind him, probably determined to have revenge for the early lights out overtake Luca executed on him.


    **How does the car feel? Current readings here show temperatures slightly elevated but within acceptable limits**


    Luca glanced at his Operational Status, and it read ''Fair'', something that might likely change with the coming laps. He took a quick breath and focused on the wheel beneath his hands. "It''s holding up well, but I can sense a bit of strain at times. I know we planned for a pit around now, but should we reconsider?" Luca asked.


    **Of course. Negative for pitstop now. We got a good rival behind you, can''t risk that much. We''ll keep an eye on the readings, while you see if you can manage the next few laps, maybe Aaronson might drop**


    "Got it," Luca replied, his mind suddenly racing with the speed of his car as he considered situations ahead. The radio crackled dead, and he focused on Miles''s hovering number 3, calling out to him. Luca was certain he could reach if fate just tilted in his direction.


    [5th Position closing in]


    "Calculate distance."


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [5th Position is 4 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction is that that value might change, and drop to 5th Position''s merit.]


    Luca smirked as he begun the 30th lap, just after Miles zipped over the grid. "Let him come," he said. "He''s trying to haul out the remaining power of his car before a pit."


    [DRS disengaged, host.]


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 80%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 185 km/h]


    Luca flicked for the brake pedal, his thumbs grazing all buttons at once as his gaze settled for the apex of the bend where he could see more civilian streets of Monte Carlo beyond the circuit. Aaronson''s engine roared close behind, loud and persistent. Luca''s mind raced with the determination to execute Corner Chopping for the first time, with Aaronson as the unfortunate target.


    Luca braked late accordingly, his car''s fairly used tires strained with might as they gripped the asphalt. He also adhered to the speed recommendation from his System. Every detail was critical: nothing more, nothing less. The bend was one of the few rare curves on the Circuit de l''¨¦toile, and Aaronson was primed to capitalize on it.


    Luca''s rear tires swung with the rhythm of the turn, while the front nosed smoothly toward the bend''s apex, illuminated in a striking blue glow. The sharp sound of Aaronson''s drifting tires filled the air, merging with the clamor of the sparse crowd behind the cage barricades. Their cheers added to the charged atmosphere, urging Aaronson to seize the moment and attempt an overtake.


    Luca''s car slipped back into the middle lane with calculated precision, balanced and secure, denying Aaronson any opening to exploit his slipstream, unless his car was not a SomberCore, and could easily recover from a drift. This instantly stripped away all Aaronson''s momentum, his car having to decelerate rapidly as Luca forced him back to rhythm using Corner Chopping.


    With a quick shift, Luca smashed the throttle as if his life depended on it. His car surged forward, the powerful G-forces slamming him back against the unforgiving leather of his seat.


    "... Aaronson would need more than trailing to catch up with such an acceleration...!"


    [Agility +1]


    [Strength +1]


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    "Nice. I thought I really didn''t do it well, at all."


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    Halfway. Can''t this thing fill any faster?! With it, I can zip past Miles like it''s nothing!


    [Ding!]


    [Straightaway Chopping Skill Accumulating 1/3]


    [Host would have to correctly execute Corner Chopping three times to simply unlock the subordinate skill¨CStraightaway Chopping.]


    Luca smiled endlessly. "Now, that''s an impressive aspect from you, System. Let me guess, Straightaway Chopping works the same way but for straights?"


    [Yes, host.]


    [Tires are in good condition, host. Fuel level at 65%. DRS is available. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 18%.]


    [Telemetry shows smooth handling but indicates slight performance drop. Recommend an immediate pit stop to optimize tires and fuel strategy.]


    Luca activated the communication system. "How about now?" he asked Mr. Moritz, noting the less-than-ideal performance metrics on his screen. The Operational Status had figures he found unappealing to his eyes.


    **Yup! Ansel boxed three laps ago. You have enough space before Aaronson and Walding**


    "Alright," Luca confirmed, focusing on the track.


    **He''s coming in!** Mr. Moritz alerted the pit crew. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca zipped smoothly through the halfway point of the 32nd lap, approaching the team garage with the calm precision of a seasoned racer. The roar of his engine echoed through the narrow lane as he entered the pit box, bathed in the glow of red fluorescent bulbs that symbolized Trampos''s signature color. The pit crew was poised and ready, their movements synchronized and sharp. With seamless precision, Luca engaged Pitstop Prodigy, allowing the crew to execute a flawless tire change and refuel in record time.


    Enjoy exclusive content from empire


    Within seconds, Luca was back on the track, regaining his pace. His face beamed with happiness as his Operational Status trickled high with green life.


    [Stamina +1]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 150 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 115000 m


    -Time: 1 hr 2 min. ]


    "¡­a few laps beyond the halfway point of Monte Carlo tonight, and the pit lane is bustling with activity. Oh¡ªoh, Hahn has finally yielded to the warnings on his dashboard, and I can see him directing toward Trampos''s garage. Remember, Addams hasn''t pitted yet, while a refueled and recharged Miles Bellingham still holds 3rd. What''s your take on this, Jon¡­?"


    **Hahn is pitting, get ready**


    The pit crew sprang into coordinated action again as Ansel, the pack leader, hurtled toward them with a car showing clear signs of wear.


    "¡­it might not make much of a difference. Behind Bellingham, we have a fresh Rennick, followed by Derstappen, Walding, and Kristensen. Aaronson just entered the pit now. Pits can last mere seconds, and with two powerhouses like Hahn and Addams, they''re fully aware of the stakes as they push their cars to the limit. Bellingham may be skilled, but I predict the leaderboard will remain stable for at least the next ten laps¡­"


    "¡­but the viewers may see you eat your words, Jon, because the leaderboard is clearly poised for a shift. Addams can''t risk a DNF¡ªhe''s going to tilt, and it''s plain to see Bellingham''s rear wing deploying. No doubt about it, folks, he''s been biding his time, and now that DRS activation is going to make all the difference¡­"


    [Distance between host and 3rd Position is growing rapidly]


    He''s freaking speeding up. Luca clenched his jaw, unwilling to be overshadowed by Miles as the black-and-gold Dallara with the hovering number 3 edged further away.


    Determined, Luca pressed harder on the accelerator, coaxing every ounce of speed from his car as he worked to regain momentum lost from the pitstop.


    "¡­zipping across section 4''s straightaway, just a few seconds behind Bellingham is Rennick, bringing along a pack of hostile wolves hungry for the podium. Hahn and Addams have completed their pits! Bellingham is now just a second behind Addams! Addams needs to accelerate! He can''t! He can''t! And they''re approaching a street bend¡­!"


    Luca''s eyes narrowed as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Bellingham, demonstrating razor-sharp instincts, had secured the ideal racing line coming out of the corner. Addams attempted to replicate the maneuver, but with cold tires that hadn''t yet achieved optimal grip, he struggled to maintain control.


    The roar of Monte Carlo''s electrified streets rose like a tidal wave, the voice of the announcer booming over the circuit speakers. Even from within his car, Luca could hear it, deep and resonant like rolling thunder.


    "¡­perfection. Bellingham has done it! Despite a minor scrape against the rear barricade, he''s undoubtedly more content than Addams. Squadra Corse Jnr. has managed to leapfrog one of their rivals¡­!"


    If Miles could pull it off, so could he.


    Luca''s determination burned as he aimed to exploit Addams'' probable frustration, momentary disorientation, and yet-unsteady car. After pushing his car to maximum speed, Luca reduced it just in time to navigate the bend, his pulse quickening as Addams'' now number 3 loomed within reach.


    [5th Position closing in], the System alerted as Luca accelerated into the next straight.


    "What? Who''s that?" he barked, surprised that he was being hunted even as he pursued his own prey.


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to read rivals'' profile]


    Luca darted a quick glance at his side mirror, squinting to identify who was closing in on him. A flash of blue and black caught his eye¡ªthe same colors worn by the car he was chasing.


    "¡­Walding would definitely not let Rennick get anywhere near his teammate! After a grueling tight weave between Aaronson and Derstappen, Walding maintains his position as they enter the 40th lap¡­!"


    [Host has unlocked Skills to disclose an opponent at a bend.]


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to disclose an opponent on a straight]


    Luca''s eyes lit up with a mix of relief and urgency as sector 3''s street 4 curved into the obscured horizon. "Calculate, please."


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [...visual obscurity concerns added...]


    [Tire traction: 80%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 100 km/h]


    "That''s low," Luca muttered, easing off the throttle.


    [DRS disengaged, host.]


    Luca tilted his wheel and his tires obeyed, screeching quietly as the chassis bent in alignment to the curve. Walding, the tenacious 20-year-old Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. driver, clearly aimed to keep Addams, their main contender, untouchable while defending against any attempts from Luca. Luca could tell that was what the racer behind him had plotted in mind, because that was his job on the track tonight as well.


    Aiming for the dark apex with brakes engaged confidently, Luca''s instincts for Corner Chopping hopped in, and he flicked his ABS to prevent wheel lock in any way. Instantly, Walding responded just the way Luca had planned, and the Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr racer lost all momentum instantly, his deceleration and brake immediate.


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5 %]


    [Ding!]


    [Straightaway Chopping Skill Accumulating 2/3]


    "So, I did it well? Nice," Luca murmured, quickly checking his mirror. Walding was now a safe distance behind him, fending off Derstappen and Aaronson, who pressed hard for 5th place. Luca exhaled, thankful to have escaped the dangerous mid-pack chaos.


    [41st lap]


    [Stamina +1]


    Luca activated his radio communication to Ansel. Tonight''s mission remained paramount, and he needed assurance he hadn''t let his team down.


    **Yes, I still have P1** Ansel''s voice crackled back, easing Luca''s mind. **But your boy is a stain on my mirror**


    "I''ll get to him, don''t worry," Luca promised, glancing at the top left of his display where his Sync Bar thrummed with energy. If only it could fill a bit more.


    [42nd Lap]


    "¡­an exhilarating race displaying sportsmanship and high-caliber maneuvering. The leaderboard features Trampos''s Hahn in first, Squadra''s Bellingham in second, and reigning F2 champion Addams holding third with Rennick looming just behind. It won''t be easy for Rennick, considering Addams'' prowess in defensive driving¡­"


    "¡­Absolutely. Addams'' track record is unmatched when it comes to maintaining his line. But it seems inevitable that a clash may happen, potentially shaking up the leaderboard as I had initially doubted. My sincere apologies to Bellingham¡­ And look at Rennick, the 18-year-old edging ever closer, showcasing the fearless overtakes we saw in Germany and earlier in this very race. We might be in for the season''s most thrilling battle yet¡ªAddams'' impeccable defense against Rennick''s relentless outpace and flawless overtaking¡­"

 Chapter 62 Monaco Grand Prix Buffed To Win

    "...Walding is too close for comfort of planning an overtake, which means Rennick might have to focus on defending his lane instead of weaving for an opening through Addams. The pack roars past the grid again, marking 43 laps and an hour and twenty minutes into this F2 Grand Prix. I can see a bend coming up that could be Rennick''s chance to close the gap on Addams. The champion himself has navigated it already, chasing the young London prodigy who snatched P2 many laps ago...!"[Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 75%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 175 km/h]


    "Thank you," Luca muttered, adjusting his engine output accordingly as his tires latched onto the track''s curve. It was the familiar left-hander he had mastered over the last 43 laps, and this time was no exception. The blue street lighting illuminated the bend well, guiding his focus to the apex as the Corner Chopping instinct surged within him.


    [5th Position closing in.]


    "Oh, he''s that close already?" Luca said aloud as he exited the bend with all steps implemented.


    Walding''s eyes were fixed on Luca''s rear, determined to pull off an overtake in the same bend. But Luca''s strategic hard braking during the apex caught Walding off-guard. Walding''s reflexes kicked in as he rapidly decelerated and shifted slightly to the right. As they emerged from the curve, Luca''s sudden burst of acceleration left his tires screeching and a trail of smoke clouding Walding''s vision.


    "...Rennick has pulled off that move not once, but three times in today''s race. You can bet all teams will be studying that technique tonight. The gap has widened, and no one needs to tell him to surge ahead...!"


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]


    [Ding!]


    [Straightaway Chopping Skill Accumulating 3/3]


    [Ding!]


    [Host has learnt Corner Chopping Skill!]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a Skill:


    -Straightaway Chopping: 2 ]


    "Thank you, very much!" Luca exclaimed inwardly, a surge of satisfaction coursing through him. Now, with the ability to disclose his opponents at any point on the track, his strategic edge was sharper than ever¡ªso long as he flawlessly executed the Chopping sibling skills. "Any specifics to Straightaway Chopping I should know about?" he asked, seeking full clarity while maintaining his pace on the straight. Walding''s presence was still formidable, lingering close behind like a shadow.


    [Retrieving Data on Straightaway Chopping...]


    [...Data Retrieved]


    [Execution of Straightaway Chopping:


    ¨CApproach the straightaway


    ¨CPosition your vehicle for the optimal line


    ¨CMaintain control, balance and maximum speed with DRS


    ¨CRegulate opponent''s speed


    ¨CPrepare for defensive positioning


    ¨CBrake suddenly upon 1-2secs of opponent behind you


    ¨CCapitalize on opponent''s dissonance ]


    Luca nodded as the data illuminated on his HUD. This was a skill he was already familiar with, yet the System''s enhancements added a professional finesse to it. Straightaway Chopping was a form of aggressive, tactical defensive driving¡ªdesigned to seize control while fending off opponents. By foreseeing a rival''s overtaking attempt and aligning his car to obstruct their path, Luca would brake at a crucial instant, disrupting their momentum and throwing them off balance. Read new chapters at empire


    A second''s misjudgment and the technique could backfire, but Luca''s instincts hummed with readiness. His grip on the wheel tightened as the roar of engines, the electric lights of Monte Carlo, and Walding''s relentless pursuit merged into a symphony of intensity.


    [You are moving at 300 km/h]


    [47th lap]


    [Next bend approaching]


    Luca tilted his wheel to align with the track''s curve, his eyes set on his side mirror as he noticed Walding conciously giving some space between him and Luca''s Dallara¨Ca measure to prevent being chopped again. "I see you''re learning from your mistakes," Luca sneered. "You''re probably planning on accelerating once we exit, huh? Too bad you have no idea I got both skills now. Just follow me."


    Walding''s black-and-blue car was still too distant for Luca''s System to analyze fully, given the limitations of the Intermediate Bundle. This left Luca relying solely on his instincts to estimate Dani Walding''s speed as they both came out of the bend.


    **47th lap** Moritz''s voice erupted over the radio. **How good is your car? Perfect for the rest?**


    "Aye, sir," Luca answered, casting a quick glance at the borders of his System''s display to double-check. "Everything is solid here."


    **Excellent. Maintain that line**


    The radio crackled and went silent, leaving Luca alone with the roar of engines and the electrifying pulse of the track. Addams was inching further out of reach, and with it, the podium. Luca had done everything right so far, his race strategies executed with precision. But the relentless pace of the competition was sapping his stamina. Mr. Grant would have to understand that today''s battle was among the fiercest.


    "...and out of the bend they go. Your prediction from a moment ago might be turning true, Jon. Walding''s rear is exposed, and his back tires are roaring for traction. Rennick''s in the middle lane! Can Dani Walding close in on his teammate and bolster Velocit¨¤''s position...?"


    Luca carefully eased off the throttle, and his car responded with a sudden, measured retardation.


    "...Oh my! That was almost contact! Walding narrowly avoided clipping Rennick''s rear! A quick reflex, indeed! Jon, do you think that was intentional...?"


    "...No doubt, Steve. Just look at him. Rennick''s gunning ahead, extending that gap after intentionally shrinking it. Walding''s trying to recover control, searching for momentum. Steve, I dare you to ask again if that was intentional..."


    [Straightaway Chopping +1]


    "Booyah! C''mon, Let''s go!"


    **Brilliant move, Luca! You''ve shaken him off. That spot is yours now, defend it well**


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    [You are gathering speed]


    Luca couldn''t help but grin non-stop as the notification for Straightaway Chopping +1 slowly faded away from his view, the Sync Bar glowing softly in anticipation to the upper left. Luca could tell he needed one more point to get that bad boy filled up.


    [50th Lap]


    [Stamina +1]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 290 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 75% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 180000 m


    -Time: 1 hr 30 min. ]


    "...with the final ten laps at play, we have the stewards and marshals sharper than ever, and I am pretty sure everyone is at the edge of their seat or even so, on their feet. The current leaderboard favors Trampos Racing with the most points, their best start to the season ever. Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. would emerge with the next highest, and Squadra Jnr, with lesser but satisfactory points..."


    "...there is more than enough gap between the drivers, and their paces seem all equal. It''s a textbook harmony of engines here, and all we can do is watch and anticipate the leading pack. Can Bellingham snatch the glorious P1 from Hahn, and can Rennick do the impossible and deprive Addams of the podium? The 51st lap is underway...!"


    Luca''s focus on his wheel did not waver. His grip on the wheel was firm as he sped down the track, his tires searing and radiating heat. His eyes flicked repeatedly toward the Sync Bar, hoping to see it filled and suspecting the System might have missed an announcement. But still, there were only three bars lit.


    [Tires are in satisfactory condition, host. Fuel level at 65%. DRS is now available. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 18%.]


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. No pitstops are recommended. Host is capable of finishing the race with current Operational Status]


    "That''s not the notification I wanna hear," Luca muttered as he maneuvered through Street 4 bend with practiced precision. He tapped into the instincts ingrained by his Skills, each subtle move executed as if by second nature, each inch of the track taken like a calculated gamble. Addams'' pulsing number 3 shone like a taunting beacon, feeding Luca''s hunger for victory.


    "...52nd lap, folks! Walding and Derstappen seem to be battling fiercely for that 5th place, but Walding looks like he''s losing traction, and Derstappen could capitalize. Kristensen holds on to sixth, while Aaronson has dropped to seventh. Quite disappointing for Hatcherk Motorsport so far..."


    Luca thought this might be how far he could go. But just at the 52nd lap, a swift notification swiped into his view, displaying a +1 to his Track Awareness. Luca''s eyes lit up instantly, and his heart brimmed with joy.


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used]


    "C''mon! C''mon! C''mon! Let''s gooooooo!"


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    Luca nodded unhesitatingly and selected yes.


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 13 ???? 50


    Stamina: 15 ???? 50


    Endurance: 17 ???? 50


    Agility: 12 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 14 ???? 50 ]


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping]


    Luca exhaled sharply, his mind narrowing as the options flashed before him. A dilemma lay ahead, one he needed to ponder carefully before making a decision. The race was far from over, and the pressure was mounting.


    He knew his first pick immediately: Overtaking Skill. That was a no-brainer, essential for making his moves and gaining ground when it mattered most. Next, he focused on Reflexes. It would help him navigate through the track, reacting swiftly to any unexpected changes, without putting himself in danger. Finally, Straightaway Chopping seemed like the perfect way to hold his position after overtaking. He needed a skill that would let him keep rivals at bay during those high-speed moments on the straights.


    His heart raced as he selected the three skills, each one sharpening his focus. The decision was made. Now, it was just time to execute.


    [Successfully Selected!]


    [Reflexes: 19 ???? 50


    Overtaking Skill: 20 ???? 50


    Straightaway Chopping: 3 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 4 min. 58 sec left for Sync Buff]


    That familiar surge of energy coursed through Luca''s veins as the System''s interface lit up, igniting a new intensity within him. His senses sharpened, and every fiber of his being seemed to synchronize with the machine around him. The cockpit felt less like a confined space and more like an extension of his own body, a direct connection to the race unfolding.


    Alright, let''s do this, Luca said inwardly as he whipped through another bend, smoothly hitting the straight that marked the lap''s end.


    No longer needing to monitor his speed on the curves or worry about the crushing G-forces pressing against him, Luca''s feet stayed firmly on the throttle. The engine screamed at the high RPM, its pitch cutting through the in-city circuit like a battle cry. The distance between him and Addams was closing fast, and the number on Addams'' car shrank as he approached, gaining terrifying momentum.


    "...I don''t believe what I''m seeing! Rennick''s machine is absolutely possessed! It''s like he''s tearing through reality! Addams moves to cover the inside for his defense¡ªhe''s blocking¡ªhe''s got no choice! But here comes Luca Rennick! Look at that momentum¡ªhe''s still at full throttle...!"


    Max Addams veered sharply, desperately trying to defend as the roar of Luca''s engine frightened him. But with perfect confidence and exceeding limits of his mind and muscle, Luca slashed to the outside, threading through the smallest gap in Addams'' defense like a hot knife through butter, his SomberCore shrieking as if taunting Max Addams'' weakness.


    **That''s it, Luca! That''s it, squeeze into that damn podium!**


    [You are moving at 310 km/h]


    "...oh my goodness, Jon. The young lad might be risking his own fate here. He''s still accelerating even through bends. Not even a breath on the brake, he''s a mazerunner out there..."


    "...we can see Addams trying to cut back, but it''s too late... and... there it is! Luca Rennick is already gone, and he''s rocketing ahead..."


    [3rd Position]


    **Attaboy!**


    [55th Lap]


    Luca didn''t have time to celebrate his ascent into P3, the black-and-golden Dallara of Miles Bellingham flashing just ahead, its number 2 teasing him like a prize just beyond reach.


    The System, needless to calculate recommended speed for maneuver or analyze track structure, resorted to reading his data in nanoseconds as the interface gleamed with vibrant life around its corners.


    [Congratulations!]


    [Fastest Lap Attained!]


    The world around him blurred, the cityscape at night a smudge of lights as he barreled down the straight, his car closing in on Miles with every second. His heightened Intelligence and Track Awareness were firing on all cylinders, guiding him through the turns as he prepared to close the final gap.


    Luca''s eyes darted, his vision zeroing in on the shimmering heat radiating from Miles''s rear tires. The interface gleamed with clarity as it read the track''s data, a symphony of numbers and lines that Luca barely needed to process, his instincts doing the heavy lifting.


    [You are moving at 300 km/h]


    Without easing off the throttle, Luca tilted early to the right.


    Miles was alerted instantly, his nerves perking with fear as the ear-splitting roar of Luca''s engine crept to his side.


    The right-hander transitioned into a left-hander, giving Miles the upper hand to cut in from the inner lane. However, Luca, taking the outside line at an unrestrained speed, still managed to wrap around the curb earlier, his car holding steady.


    [You have 10 seconds left for Sync Buff] Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...with unbelievable momentum from P4, Luca Rennick is challenging the might of Miles Bellingham! As they enter the left-hander, Rennick''s taking the outside lane with relentless speed, and he''s not backing down! Do not blink¡ªthe two cars are nearly rubbing paint...!"


    Luca pushed past Miles. The audience roared. Mr. Moritz couldn''t stop hollering.


    [2nd Position]


    [Sync Buff has elapsed!]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 0%]


    [58th lap]


    Though it was just five minutes, Luca had gotten used to the otherworldly Endurance and Strength. Once the Sync Buff left his body, a g-force struck him, and it hurt according to the value of his Endurance and Strength.


    However, the adrenaline rushing through him masked out the pain as the euphoric display of "2nd Position" slowly faded away from his view, replaced by Ansel''s car.


    **You are marvellous, Luca! Han?! Han?!**


    **Eh?**


    **Luca''s got your back, now! We got the race! We got the points!**


    Ansel had to glance at his side mirror to be certain. His eyes widened with disbelief as the gleaming surface of a red-and-black Dallara designed with ''Fijee'' on its frame trailed behind him as they made a bend.


    **That''s wonderful! How''d you do it?!**


    Luca''s breathing was heavy, Sync Buff akin to a doping medicine that took his breath away. He inhaled the musk air of his helmet sharply, his hands firmly on his wheel. "I just pushed hard," he replied to the radio.


    **Keep your lane, boys! Trampos has this in the bag! We''re ruling Monaco tonight, c''mon!**


    [59th lap]


    "¡­with just one lap left after this! Trampos Racing is poised to redefine the word victory! Jon, you might want to keep making those predictions, because every time you do, the opposite seems to unfold! Rennick is calm on Hahn''s tail, and you can bet Bellingham is fuming behind the wheel, desperate to reclaim that P2 position! It''s the 60th lap, folks! I can barely sit still in my seat..!"


    "¡­The pack has zipped through the grid once more, and it''s one final lap around the stunning streets of Monte Carlo. Rennick can''t let all his hard work go to waste now! Bellingham is right behind him, ready to pounce! Oh my! We don''t want to see a potential P2 photo finish right now..."


    Luca failed woefully when he took a heavy risk as he tried executing Corner Chopping at a certain bend. It impeccably cut down some of the gap between him and Miles. With the next and final straight approaching, Luca quickly plotted with Ansel, Miles''s natural momentum being something they shouldn''t toy with.


    "RFS?" Luca suggested.


    **Are you sure he would fall for it again?**


    "Just bank adjacently, let that L form," Luca replied, his feet hovering near the brake. To his luck, Miles was close enough to have his Dallara analyzed, and it granted Luca all he needed to discern for an optimum Straightaway Chopping.


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h (300 km/h) (200¡ª300km/h in the last five seconds) (20km/h each millisecond)


    Acceleration: 3.5 sec (0¡ª100km/h) (28.57 km/h per second)


    Max Power: 620 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]


    Luca braked.


    Miles''s eyes widened as he steered roughly to the right, his tires screeching into the night as he fought for traction with the immediate retardation. "Fuck!" he cursed in his helmet.


    Luca flicked off the brake. "You''re free to go," he said to Ansel, engaging DRS and moving his feet to the throttle all in a second. His car jerked in response, his back tires revving.


    "...and Miles Bellingham is desperately trying to correct his overcorrection, but Luca Rennick is leaving him in the dust! Hahn is leading his teammate down the straight! Bellingham just can''t keep up! Addams is a lap down! Trampos Racing¡ªTrampos Racing has secured Monaco...!"


    "....Ansel Hahn confidently claims first place¡­!"


    "WOOOHHHH!" roared the audience in excitement.


    "....Rennick crosses second for Trampos¡­!"


    "WOOOHHHH!" the fans erupted once more.


    "....and Bellingham makes the grid for third place..!"

 Chapter 63 Monaco Grand Prix Podium Under The Stars

    The second theme song for that season boomed in the background¡ª"Chop Suey!" by System of a Down¡ªas the cars stacked up beyond the grid, the atmosphere humming with engine heat, a stark contrast to the cool night air.The commentary resonated throughout the city, blending with the roars of the spectators leaning out of the high-rise windows and cheering from the stands behind steel barricades. After an intense hour and forty-five minutes of racing, the leaderboard finally solidified, ready to record the night''s unforgettable outcome.


    Luca''s System displayed his final position, the yellow glow of number 2 reflecting off his helmet and casting a warm light across the cockpit. He felt the power of his car wind down, only then allowing himself to release the steering wheel, his fingers stiff and tingling.


    Explore new worlds at empire


    [2ND POSITION]


    [Congratulations, host! You have made a podium!]


    **You are the man, Luca. You guys have done it!**


    Luca chuckled, exhaling deeply as relief coursed through him. With the help of that powerful Sync Buff, he''d secured 2nd place even with only 60% Operational Status. "Second podium for me, it is!" Luca grinned as he lifted himself out of the single-seater. The rush of the night breeze, the glow of the track lights, and the distant roar of the crowd washed over him.


    In the cool-down lane, drivers from smaller F2 teams pulled up, their cars decorated in varied hues, and exhaustion was marked on their faces. Luca''s eyes searched for Ansel, finding him atop his car, jubilantly pumping his fist toward a group of fans waving from the roof of a nearby building.


    Luca removed his helmet and climbed down from his car. He caught sight of Miles and, without hesitation, brushed past him with a deliberate shoulder nudge on his way to Ansel.


    "...and it will surely be a night to remember for Trampos Racing. Look at their boys go, demonstrating teamwork on par with Formula 1 class. This season is shaping up to be theirs. Now, let me ask my co-commentator for his thoughts..." Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...if I were you, Steve, I wouldn''t start handing out trophies just three Featured Races into the season. We''ve got a long year ahead, and luck can turn faster than a car blowing out its tires..."


    "...and speaking of luck, it certainly ran out today for the reigning F2 champion, Max Addams. Just look at him kicking his tires in frustration. Two young challengers took him down, officially ending his nine-podium streak. Meanwhile, Aaronson looks crushed and is already heading back to his team. For a driver who claimed bronze last season, this is turning into a brutal campaign..."


    Luca and Ansel returned to their team''s garage with wide smiles, welcomed by their crew''s cheers and shouts of excitement. The 45 points (25 from Ansel, 18 + 2 from Luca) represented a significant boost for the season ahead.


    The teammates were showered with pats and congratulations. Even Mr. Grant couldn''t help but applaud the incredible show of motorsport from his drivers. He clapped firmly, a proud smile on his face, before pulling Ansel aside for the press.


    Luca found himself surrounded by the cheering Trampos crew beneath the bright lights, which illuminated a replay of his fastest lap. It showed him overtaking Addams and expertly cutting in front of Miles. Watching the footage of his red-and-black Dallara slicing through Circuit de l''¨¦toile, Luca felt a surreal wave wash over him, as though the reality of the achievement hadn''t yet sunk in.


    Glancing up at the sound of his name, Luca was surprised to be called for the quick press interview. He swiftly maneuvered through the cluster of the crew, out of the garage, and halfway down the side of the pit lane. "Chop Suey!" continued booming in the background, mingling with the distant cheers of the crowd.


    As the interviews commenced, the podium was being prepared at the grand edge of Circuit de l''¨¦toile, where a magnificent fountain illuminated by white lights added a touch of splendor to the scene.


    Luca responded smoothly to the press, doing his utmost to keep his excitement in check. His face lit up the top screen of one of the tallest buildings nearby, broadcasted on every channel in real-time. After the interview, Mr. Grant approached Luca in the bright tunnel, congratulating him and expressing heartfelt gratitude for following orders and executing the strategies flawlessly, which had secured Trampos''s victory.


    Luca appreciated the encouraging words and acknowledgment from Mr. Grant. He wanted to ask then and there if the result of this race would change the plans to reserve him for the next two races. But he decided against it, not wanting to push too far too soon. After all, Mr. Grant was the Team Principal, and his decisions were for the benefit of the team.


    The podium celebration soon followed.


    Luca, who had practiced popping champagne bottles, eagerly awaited the moment as he watched Ansel step proudly to the top spot. Luca took the second position, and Bellingham stood at third. Their names were announced to the electrified crowd as medals were awarded with due ceremony, and Ansel received a gleaming trophy.


    Bright confetti rained down from the dark night sky as they were handed their champagne bottles. Luca smirked, catching Ansel''s wide grin. They shared the same thought as they gripped the corks of their bottles, aiming at each other.


    In a show of pure joy, they soaked themselves in victory, laughing and leaping on the famed Monte Carlo podium while officials and spectators cheered and clapped. Miles, barely engaging, half-heartedly sprayed some champagne before stepping down to join his team.


    Celebrations continued for Trampos Racing through the night. They were able to get in contact with some fans who had eagerly flown to Monaco just to watch the race. Luca was surprised that he had gotten the likings from many Trampos fans already, and they seemed eager to know more about him as he took pictures with some of them under the cool night sky.


    April 10th, the Celestial Riviera Hotel belonged to Trampos Racing as the 5-star venue roared with festivities well into the night.


    Luca eventually crashed and slept on a couch in the penthouse, while Ansel lay sprawled on the floor next to the fireplace.


    --


    A/N: Premium will soon begin from Chap. 32

 Chapter 64 Steps Toward Grandeur

    Before leaving Monaco, Luca and Ansel had made a pact that they would indulge in an extreme shopping spree in the dazzling city of Monte Carlo. With his spirits as high as the clouds, Luca''s eyes flung open at the chime of the System''s morning ring. He began his day just as he had for the past three mornings since the exhilarating Featured Race. Formula 1 had kept Circuit de l''¨¦toile alive and buzzing with excitement the very next day, stacking the lingering energy in the air.Caught up in the jubilation of their victory, Luca and Ansel had barely spared a thought for the bigger boys and their roaring engines. Instead, they dedicated their time to recreational games and sightseeing, exploring as much of the stunning city as they could. The adventures strengthened their bond, creating memories they wouldn''t soon forget.


    Luca''s daily routine started significantly earlier than most, a habit that allowed him to enjoy the hotel''s gym in near solitude. Save for a few gym enthusiasts who couldn''t help but glance his way, Luca had the space to himself as he worked out, shaking off any residual traces of celebration from the past three nights.


    When he was done, he slumped onto a bench, towel draped over his forehead as he caught his breath. Finally, he reached for his phone.


    The first message to pop up was from Mr. Fisher, filled with warm congratulations. Mallow''s message followed, and then Harry''s. Smiling, Luca responded to each one thoughtfully, ensuring his words carried the right tone of gratitude and camaraderie.


    Realizing he hadn''t checked the standings since the last race, Luca navigated to the Formula 1 info platform on his phone. His eyes lit with joy, his head slowly nodding instinctively as he licked his lips.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    ----------------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 113


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 75


    3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 46


    4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 34


    5. | Nevada HanSama Jnr | 12


    Just as Luca was relishing Trampos Racing''s commanding lead in the standings, a notification abruptly flashed on his phone, pulling him back to the present.


    [Ding!]


    [Training Program for Racecraft successfully generated!]


    "Oh, finally," Luca muttered, his interest piqued. "Let''s see what you''ve got for me."


    [Retrieving Data....]


    [....Data Retrieved]


    The program outlined itself in neat bullet points.


    [This side programme will focus on the following:


    ¨CHost will retrieve and recognize the names and faces of each F2 periodic driver, their respective teams and significant achievements.


    ¡ªHost will spend an accumulated total of 25 hours watching past Formula 2 races, focusing on key races, strategy play, and rivalries.


    ¨CHost will review public telemetry data from F2 opponents during key races to predict how drivers behave under pressure.


    ¨CHost will run specific simulations under various conditions (dry, wet, twilight) that also introduce weather changes, while engaging in practice sessions where real-time instructions from engineers must be acted upon within seconds ]


    Luca stared at the interface, his mouth slightly agape. A wave of disbelief washed over him as he processed the absurdity of what he was reading.


    "Wow," he said, shaking his head slowly. "This... this is the most ridiculous program you''ve ever handed me. You''re literally asking me to study like I''m in school¡ªmemorizing names and faces¡ªand the only racing activity here puts me behind a simulation wheel. Not even a real one." He scoffed, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Are you sure this is the it? This is what I''m supposed to spend my time on?"


    [Yes, host. With comprehensive knowledge of your opponents, you might be able to predict their moves before unlocking the required skill.]


    [This programme will help you understand every element influencing the race and the game as a whole.]


    Your journey continues at empire


    Luca sighed, his eyes scanning the listed activities again. Twenty-five freaking hours of watching races?! Though it wouldn''t all be in one sitting, it still felt overwhelming. That would mean watching at least fifteen full races, analyzing every detail like an engineer poring over a telemetry report.


    The thought made his head spin. He leaned back for a moment, remembering how Mr. Grant had once again turned down his latest plea to place him for the next race. It wasn''t surprising, but it left Luca feeling stuck. The reality dawned on him that he''d even have more than enough time to complete this rigorous program. But that time was something he desperately wished he didn''t have.


    "Alright. We''ll get started with Amir when we''re back in Berlin. For now, I''ve got a day planned ahead." Luca said, pushing himself up from the bench and grabbing his belongings.


    [Certainly, host.]


    [Good job, host. You can now head over to the next phase of your Daily Routine. Your time in the gym today is over.]


    Luca left the gym, just as Haas and Beany where entering. They greeted like any one would before Luca moved through the doors, heading to the elevator.


    On entering his hotel room, Luca wasted no time. He took a refreshing bath and ordered breakfast, a necessity since Sara hadn''t been able to secure a room at The Celestial Riviera. The luxurious hotel was bursting at the seams, packed to capacity thanks to the immense pull of Trampos Racing.


    After finishing his meal, Luca picked up his phone and dialed Ansel, who was staying just one floor below. Ansel answered groggily, clearly still shaking off sleep. He assured Luca that he''d hit the gym quickly and join him soon, but Luca didn''t buy it for a second. Ansel was notorious for dragging his feet when it came to sticking to time. Instead of waiting around, Luca decided he''d meet him later at the mall.


    Next, Luca called Sara, who had managed to find accommodation in a cramped motel about a mile away in the bustling heart of Monte Carlo. Unlike Ansel, Sara was already up and ready to go, promising she''d join him within minutes.


    Luca felt empty and loose. Glancing at the mirror to recheck himself, he could see the reflection of his fitted navy blue sweater. The dark chinos beneath offered a more polished look for the casual outting he had in mind, and the clean white sneakers added a touch of ease and freshness. Luca didn''t have much clothes yet, but he was determined to have that change after today. Le Grand Palais, here I come, Luca said inwardly, adjusting his outfit.


    The simple, dark leather watch on his wrist was the only thing that brought his body together, but he still felt open. Luca then realized that it was because he was in a foreign city. Additionally, he carried nothing on him except his phone, which gave him the feeling of unpurposeful wandering. Luca bit his lip and searched for that one messenger bag Sara had gotten him.


    "There you go," he whispered, slinging the gray bag across his body and rechecking himself in the mirror.


    Satisfied with the composure the bag had given him, Luca stepped out, locking his room behind him. He made his way down to the hotel courtyard, where guests like himself moved about, immersed in lively social activity. His eyes wandered to an ornate fountain bubbling softly at the center of the space. Feeling the need to pass the time, Luca casually ordered a drink and a croissant, though hunger was far from his mind. He wanted something to keep his teeth busy and his tongue wet as he perched on the fountain''s edge, scrolling through his phone.


    To his surprise, a group of women dressed in white, obviously part of a rich club or something, approached him. One bent over and asked if he was part of the racing team that lodged in the other day, and Luca humbly answered positively. He nodded actually.


    "Wonderful!" She exclaimed in a polished British accent, making Luca wonder how dynamic the world really was. "Could you join us?" she added, gesturing toward the lounge where her friends were gathered, sipping drinks and chatting.


    For a moment, Luca considered declining. Yet, it was a harmless offer, and the hard concrete of the fountain was already making his butt uncomfortable. The group of women, varying in age, exuded kindness and refinement. With a polite smile, Luca rose, leaving his croissant behind as he followed her to the lounge. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He found himself seated in the middle of a cluster of rich, vibrant women, their laughter light and definitely uncontagious. They giggled and tossed their hair as they exchanged stories, their world seemingly a different plane of existence.


    Luca remained seated, sunk in the plush, lounge chairs and listened to them animatedly discussing their latest travels and extravagant experiences. They sure didn''t leave out gossiping about acquaintances, and debating on capital goods prices.


    Luca listened intently, absorbing their stories while sipping his drink, his phone resting in his hand as he waited for Sara''s call. He couldn''t help but admire their confidence and charisma, their world seemingly perfect and stress-free.


    As he anticipated, the conversation eventually shifted to him. To his surprise, the woman who had approached him earlier revealed that she was considering investing in Formula 1 racing. Unsure about the risks and rewards, she was thrilled to encounter a Formula 2 driver, believing it would be an excellent starting point to explore her interest while planning for the future.


    "¡­and you finished second?" one of the women asked, her tone curious, as she swirled her index finger in her mug. Unlike the others, her face was refreshingly free of makeup.


    "Yes," Luca replied with quiet confidence. "Just right after my teammate."


    "Wow, you must be very good," the British woman remarked, her eyes lighting up. "And so young! You have a bright future ahead of you."


    She began laying out her ideas, speaking animatedly about her plans to make Luca her first endorsed racer.


    Oh my goodness.


    How could Luca Rennick possibly say no to that?


    She had even mentioned she was the owner of a cattle ranch in Norfolk and also owned self luxury accommodations all over the great country of England.


    "Of course, madam," Luca accepted in a heartbeat but added a reminder that any real negotiations would need to go through his agent. The woman, Felicity, nodded in agreement, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.


    As the conversation continued, Luca exchanged numbers with her, quietly wondering how much endorsement he might attract at the pinnacle of his career.


    "Hello?" a voice interrupted from the lounge entrance, drawing everyone''s attention. It was yet another British woman, clad in an all-black suit, trousers, and heels. Her shades obscured her eyes, but her sharp posture commanded attention.


    Luca glanced up, astonished to see Sara standing there. Surprised she hadn''t called ahead, he quickly rose to his feet, relief washing over him. Without hesitation, he introduced her as his personal assistant.


    The women acknowledged Sara with polite nods and waves as Luca excused himself, leaving the lounge with her. Together, they walked toward the hotel entrance.


    They drove to the Le Grand Palais mall, and Sara began discussing Luca''s plans for a house, seeking his preferences to align the budget while ensuring maximum comfort and satisfaction.


    Luca wasn''t too sure the structure of a house he would like, but he sure wanted it to be quiet and peaceful.


    Sara took good note of that, and sent to his phone an article featuring homes for sale that matched his slim preference


    Luca bit his lip, his eyes settling on the varying price tags between the buildings as Sara pulled into the parking garage of the grand motel.

 Chapter 65 Small Wheels

    After meeting Ansel at the Le Grand Palais mall, Luca finally clarified that Sara was his personal assistant and not his spouse, putting an end to the running joke. This came after Ansel heightened his surprise at seeing her in Monte Carlo.Ansel scoffed, offering Luca a sarcastic congratulations for fooling him all this time. They laughed it off and wandered through the bustling mall, exploring what else to purchase while Sara handled boutique shopping for Luca.


    They began by picking up grooming products before heading into the books, comics, and magazines section. Ansel mentioned he had always wanted to finish reading an entire book for once, so Luca helped him choose a perfect pick from his favorite genre¡ªHistory. Luca grabbed a few comics for himself, even though he knew he might have little to no time to read them.


    With that session done, Sara announced she had selected the finest stylish apparel for Luca¡ªand a few for herself¡ªher hands full of bags. Luca and Ansel concluded their visit by purchasing the wonderful PlayStation 3, swearing to each other they''d find time to play together.


    They left the magnificent mall and returned to the hotel, marking the end of another day. The following morning, their travel plans came into motion. The Celestial Riviera Hotel emptied as the Trampos Racing team headed to the airport.


    Once their plane took off for the two-hour journey, they sought ways to pass the time¡ªespecially Ansel. Without hesitation, he flipped through the pages of the magazines he''d purchased, the history book tucked at his side as though he was debating whether to dive into it next.


    Luca, meanwhile, engaged in conversation with some of the staff, their discussions meandering far from motorsport and into other facets of life unrelated to their profession. Eventually, he drifted out of the conversation, picked up a magazine, and slipped on his earpiece, connecting it to his MP3 player as he idly studied the pages.


    The flight was uneventful, and before long, they began their descent into Berlin. Landing safely, the team disembarked to find Trampos security waiting for them, along with their original, gleaming team bus basking in the afternoon sun.


    One staff member Luca had grown fond of mentioned they wouldn''t be heading to the headquarters immediately. Instead, the team was scheduled for a visit to an U-13 motorsport academy located in the suburban region of Berlin. Luca didn''t recall seeing this event on the team schedule in his phone, but he followed along as everyone piled into the bus.


    They arrived a few minutes later at a semi-modern facility nestled in a suburb Luca struggled to pronounce¡ªHohenberg. The exterior boasted sleek lines and glass windows, a hallmark of any motorsport facility. A charming go-kart track wound around the main building, surrounded by less-developed structures and an open field stretching to the right. In the distance, Luca could see children playing together, their laughter blending with the faint hum of motorsport activity. From the main building, more young voices filtered out into the warm air.


    The Trampos team was greeted by facility officials who shook their hands enthusiastically and congratulated them on their commanding victory in Monte Carlo. The officials introduced the academy, explaining it was under government supervision and designed to nurture young motorsport talent. Luca learned that all F2 teams were required to visit this month, with Trampos being the third to arrive so far.


    Squinting through the sunlight, they were led further down the path and away from their bus. Luca feeling the heat, had to remove his jacket and tie it around his waist. His eyes caught the row of brightly colored go-karts lining the entrance with banners attached to them fluttering in the breeze.


    A mischievous thought crossed Luca''s mind as they approached the facility. He wondered if the System could retrieve data from go-karts as well. Curious, he edged closer to the row of vehicles while following the team into the main building.


    Nothing''s happening? Luca questioned silently, his brow furrowing when the system interface failed to display any data.


    Stay connected with empire


    [I''m sorry, host. System cannot proceed with this request.]


    Why? Isn''t it a single-seater?


    [It surely is, host. However, it lacks the necessary details for analysis.]


    [This single-seater lacks an operative super engine for system to assess]


    [Drag Reduction System is unavailable]


    [There is no fuel tank. This single-seater runs on electricity, host.]


    I see, you win this time.


    "Everyone! Can we welcome the Trampos Racing team?!" a staff member of the young academy clapped her hands and announced cheerfully as they stepped inside. Her feminine voice resonated through the space, drawing the attention of the bustling crowd of young children.


    The academy was alive with energy, its atmosphere was vibrant and youthful. Young drivers zipped around a well-maintained indoor track, their adorable focus evident as they maneuvered their little karts. The spacious lobby was adorned with gleaming trophies displayed prominently in glass cases, a tribute to the academy''s past U-13 champions. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca''s eyes wandered to the large viewing area overlooking the track. A group of adults, likely parents or guardians of the aspiring drivers, sat attentively, watching the kids with pride. The track itself seemed compact, with a layout suggesting it wasn''t even long enough for a full standard lap, but the young racers made the most of its tight turns and straightaways.


    The children immediately stopped their training, scrambling to their feet and chorusing an enthusiastic, "Hello!" Yet amidst the excitement, a particular 12-year-old boy stood out. He didn''t bother masking his disdain for Trampos Racing. The sight of Luca and Ansel¡ªthe drivers responsible for dethroning his idol, Max Addams¡ªonly deepened his scowl. Regardless of his feelings, the event continued seamlessly.


    The Trampos team was tasked with interacting with the kids, taking pictures, and sharing insights about the art of racing. As part of the program, a larger go-kart was even rolled out for demonstration. Ansel shrugged and refused to enter it, Haas and Beany not even bothering to glance in its direction.


    Unwilling to disappoint the academy staff or the eager children, Luca stepped up. Without hesitation, he squeezed himself into the tiny cockpit, his legs awkwardly folded to fit. The sight drew a chorus of laughter from the children and staff alike as Luca joined them on the track. Despite his best efforts, he failed to even place in the top ten, eliciting playful jeers from the young racers.


    As the visit wound down, the team bid the children goodbye, wandering out to the field and inspecting the less-developed buildings nearby. Along the way, the academy staff shared their hopes for expanding the program. They emphasized the need for a broader scope to nurture future talents and elevate the potential of young racers.


    All Luca could do was smile. His smile wasn''t deliberate, it was just on his face, his ears red.


    He surprisingly had a good time, and Ansel could tell because he caught a glimpse of Luca change his phone''s wallpaper from an apocalyptic racetrack to a picture he had taken with the kids.

 Chapter 66 A Steady Start

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]Luca was eager to begin his new training program and absorb everything he could about racing, striving to become an all-rounder.


    Getting up from bed, he noticed the spring had begun to show its effects. The mornings were now strikingly cold, dark, and damp, while noon brought a bright, clear sky with a warm sun.


    To begin his Daily Routine, Luca got dressed in a tracksuit, strapping his wrist with a Catapult wristwatch, and securing a headband across his temple. He stepped out of his accommodation, ready to seize the day.


    However, his plans took an unexpected turn when he received an impromptu call to Mr. Fisher''s office. Luca couldn''t help but wonder why Mr. Fisher and the other members of management wanted to see him. Was it another round of congratulations for helping the team secure massive points early in the season?


    As he pondered, Luca made his way to the office and was ushered in with a touch of formality. Inside, Mrs. Doyle was seated, along with a few others. This made Luca question the nature of the meeting¡ªit didn''t seem celebratory anymore. Could it be a reprimand for something he hadn''t realized he did?


    His suspicions were wrong. It was neither praise nor scolding.


    The board started by acknowledging the outstanding results at the Monaco Grand Prix, expressing their hope for similar outcomes in the future. Then, they moved on to the more pressing topic which was Luca''s benching in the next two races.


    The decision, made by the Team Principal, seemed odd, especially considering the synergy between Luca and Ansel. As the discussion unfolded, Luca could sense a divide among the board members that some were clearly against the idea of benching him.


    In fact, many were against it.


    Luca couldn''t believe his ears when Mrs. Doyle read out complaints sent by fans and other notable figures in the motorsport community regarding Trampos Racing''s decision. As soon as the announcement became public, there was significant backlash, as the majority seemed to favor Luca Rennick''s unique driving style.


    However, the board wanted to explain the rationale behind their support for Mr. Grant''s decision, having thoroughly discussed it with him beforehand.


    The primary reason was the structured team strategy associated with the decision, which aimed for long-term success. Trampos Racing had a contractual obligation to Erik Haas, requiring the German to participate in at least two Featured Races each season. This obligation had been fulfilled every season, and Trampos had no intention of making this year an exception. After all, Haas wasn''t a terrible racer.


    Mr. Grant believed it was best to utilize Haas early in the season to allow ample time to recover any points lost later. Additionally, the decision factored in technical and strategic considerations, including the experiment of testing Ansel and Haas'' compatibility on the track. Find more to read at empire Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The final reason caught Luca''s attention. He was pleased to hear that Mr. Grant acknowledged their scouts had discovered a true gem in him. Mr. Grant expressed his desire to personally nurture Luca into a formidable driver, shaping him into the epitome of racing excellence. His ultimate goal was to indoctrinate Luca with his racing philosophy, gradually grooming him to become Trampos Racing''s number one driver. If fate led to Ansel''s departure someday, Mr. Grant wanted Luca to be ready to assume the mantle.


    Luca thanked the management wholeheartedly, showing his understanding. His heart felt unexpectedly lighter, realizing this was not just beneficial for the team''s long-term success but also carried significant merit for him personally. He wondered how packed his upcoming schedule would be, juggling the System''s Racecraft program, his usual routine with Amir, and whatever additional training Mr. Grant would likely draft for him.


    Leaving the boardroom, Luca walked down the glass-lined hallway, a sense of relief washing over him. He exchanged polite greetings with a few men and women in suits, likely waiting for their own briefings. Soon after, he headed out toward the gym, joining a stream of team crew members also making their way into the training hub.


    "You are late, my friend," Amir greeted him with mock sternness as Luca entered. "Explain yourself, or I''ll make you do burpees until you can name every song on my workout playlist."


    Luca chuckled, tossing his bag onto a nearby bench as he stretched his fingers for relief. "I went to see the board. They had some important things to share," he explained, clapping his hands together with renewed energy. "Let''s get to work! I want to make the most of every second I have."


    "Before we start," Amir interjected, raising a slim file in his hand, "the clinic approached me. They''re concerned about this ''abdominal injury'' you had. You never told me about an abdominal injury, my friend."


    Luca, mid-way through lacing his trainers, raised his brows in surprise. "That''s because there''s none," he said casually. "My sides feel fine. It''s just a precaution. The doc told me he''d follow up in about a month."


    Amir nodded thoughtfully, locking eyes with Luca for a moment before clicking his pen and marking something off the file. "Fair enough. Moving on," he sighed, flipping through the papers. "You, my friend, have a hefty week ahead of you¡ªwell, ahead of us. Here''s the plan. Your Team Principal has approved the difficulty level."


    Pausing his arm stretches, Luca sat on the bench and took the file Amir handed him. He studied the contents carefully. The outlined tasks were exactly the kind of hands-on, practical training Luca had been hoping for. It wasn''t just endless hours of race study or watching old tapes¡ªit was real, tangible work that would put him behind the wheel. Satisfied, he nodded in approval.


    "Let''s start today," Luca said eagerly, placing the file aside.


    To kick things off, Luca began his routine exercises, starting with burpees. It took him ten solid minutes to complete the set, barely breaking a sweat by the end. Amir smirked in admiration and congratulated him, respecting the discipline Luca maintained. Luca then excused himself to grab a quick shower and breakfast before diving into the first stage of the new training program under Amir''s watchful guidance.

 Chapter 67 A Steady Start 2

    The following day, just after the gym session, Luca headed straight to the track with Amir by his side. The sky was much brighter, a welcome change from the previous damp mornings."Your Team Principal is a frightening man," Amir whispered as they strolled along the pavement leading to where Mr. Grant stood with five crew members at the edge of the track. Luca''s Dallara, prepared for the day''s training, gleamed under the sunlight. Its red, black, and white polished sheen stood out, and the scent of its fresh rubber tires lingered in the air.


    Luca chuckled at Amir''s remark. "You think so, huh?" he replied, glancing at Mr. Grant''s bald head, which perfectly reflected the rising sun. Both he and Amir shared a quiet laugh. "I''ve learned the man is all business¡ªno room for, you know, a little lightheartedness. But hey, as long as he doesn''t bite my head off, we''ll be fine."


    "Good morning, Mr. Grant," Amir greeted as they approached. He glanced at the Trampos crew tending to Luca''s single-seater like it was a priceless gemstone. "And good morning to all my friends here."


    "Good morning, sir," Luca added humbly, nudging Amir to tone down his cheerful antics.


    Mr. Grant''s stern gaze didn''t waver, his eyes scanning both men. Luca, sensing the tension, casually pivoted toward the crew, striking up a conversation to lighten the moment.


    Mr. Grant''s attention then turned fully to Amir. "You''re his personal trainer, not a staff member of Trampos Racing. What exactly are you doing this far into the facility?" he asked, his hands clasped behind his back. Dressed in a red T-shirt, black joggers, and matching red sneakers, Mr. Grant looked sharp and commanding.


    Amir tucked his files under his armpit and pulled out a scarf to blow his nose. "Excuse me," he muttered, a heavy snort followed by the soft flutter of the white fabric. Sniffing, Amir pocketed the scarf and turned his gaze toward Luca, who was eagerly chasing after a crew member that had swiped his MP3 player. "I don''t mean to interfere with any procedures. I''d just like to see the lad drive before I leave. Surely, a simple warm-up lap won''t do any harm, would it?"


    Mr. Grant rolled his eyes with a scoff. "One simple warm-up lap, then."


    "Thank you."


    Enjoy new tales from empire


    Clapping his hands sharply, Mr. Grant gathered Luca and the team''s attention. Their playful antics immediately ceased as they returned to the single-seater, which seemed to have been eagerly waiting for its chance to roar to life.


    Once the team assembled, Mr. Grant folded his arms, his stern gaze erasing any lingering amusement in the air. "Alright, Luca. One lap around the one-thousand-meter. Get your fingers flexible, the car warmed, and ensure your speed and precision are on point. Then, we''ll move on to today''s agenda," Mr. Grant instructed, briefly flicking his eyes toward Amir as he finished.


    Without hesitation, Luca jumped into action. A crew member tossed him his helmet, which he slid onto his head effortlessly, foregoing a head sock, and tightened the straps as he flexed his legs. The cramped cockpit often left his legs sore after every session in the single-seater, let alone after all three races he had competed in.


    Amir and Mr. Grant observed intently as Luca climbed into the cockpit with practiced ease, the crew strapping him in securely.


    pat pat landed on his chest from McCauley, one of the lead crew members. "Let''s see how fast you go, pal. Up, up, and away."


    Luca chuckled beneath his helmet, giving a thumbs-up as his System seamlessly synchronized him with the car. The interface shimmered to life, analyzing every component and blending his senses with the machine.


    Mr. Grant turned his attention momentarily to the telemetry building, only a stone''s throw from the lane. Through the wide glass windows, Mr. Moritz and his team of engineers were hard at work. As if sensing Mr. Grant''s gaze, Moritz instinctively looked up, their eyes meeting.


    Mr. Moritz smiled and raised a thumbs-up before turning his focus back to the computer screens in front of him.


    Back on the track, Luca''s car was already revving, its rear shimmering with the heat of the engine. Mr. Grant brought the radio to his lips. "It''s a free track, Luca. Move your car as much as you want," he said.


    **Okay, sir** Luca replied promptly.


    The tires screeched as Luca launched forward the moment McCauley gave the signal. A torrent of wind swept past the crew and Mr. Grant, who stood firm, unflinching despite the rush. Amir, however, staggered backward, struggling to remain upright as his papers scattered into the air.


    Hastily gathering his files, Amir glanced at the track with wide eyes. "And how much did he accelerate with?!" he exclaimed to no one in particular.


    **7.70 m/s2** came Mr. Moritz''s calm reply over the radio.


    Mr. Grant exhaled, adjusting his stance as he watched Luca''s car disappear around a bend, the engine''s roar fading into the distance. "That''s close to a hundred kilometers per hour," he muttered. "That''s good."


    Amir, still stunned, shook his head. "So, you''re shaping this young lad into a beast? A machine heh?"


    Mr. Grant scoffed. "There''s nothing young about that lad, Mr. James. He''s a man in a boy''s body. That much is clear," he said, his gaze fixed on the screen mounted on the side of the track like a traffic signal. There he could see Luca carefully navigating through the peaceful track, and would soon zoom by them any second.


    Amir nodded thoughtfully, taking his gaze to the right where the approaching sound of Luca''s engine dragged like a blazing horn through the air. The red-and-black Dallara sliced past once more, Luca pushing for another lap despite not being instructed to.


    "You''ll need to regulate him," Amir said, breaking the silence. "Don''t push him too hard early on. You might not reap the benefits¡ªor worse, you might reap the opposite."


    Mr. Grant''s brow furrowed as he processed Amir''s cryptic remark. He turned to the trainer, his expression hardening. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"


    Amir shrugged. "I mean, I could be Luca''s PR for his entire career, but let''s be realistic¡ªTrampos probably won''t be his team forever. I''m not trying to¡ª"


    "Mr. James, please leave the facility," Mr. Grant interjected coldly, his voice devoid of emotion.


    Amir paused, taking one last glance toward the distant track. With a nod, he turned and made his way down the tarred path, leaving the area.


    Mr. Grant stood in silence, his mind racing. The audacity of Amir''s words stung, but the discomfort they caused only underscored their likely truth.


    Shaking the thought away, he turned back to the track in time to see Luca''s car decelerating and rolling to a stop.


    Luca''s future career path wasn''t his concern, Mr. Grant reminded himself. His job was to win championships by getting the best out of his drivers¡ªnothing more, nothing less.


    As Luca''s helmeted face came into view, Mr. Grant gave a nod. "Good job," he said. "Let''s get started." Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 68 A Steady Start 3

    The fourth round of the championship was fast approaching as the month neared its end. The calendar marked the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, set in the heart of its capital, Baku. Luca had no idea such a country even existed, and he was eager to discover what it looked like and how its people interacted. From the television screens, one could hardly grasp how vast the cities were that hosted these races.Baku National Circuit was the venue¡ªan average track in the opinion of most. With its 50 laps, the climate was mild, with precipitation that was relatively average and predictable. Luca couldn''t help but wish he could race on such a track.


    But he would not. Number 21, Luca Rennick, would instead be in the paddock that afternoon.


    Before the voyage to Azerbaijan could begin, Luca dove into the program set out by his System, training rigorously under Mr. Grant''s guidance and continuing his morning exercises with Amir. His first task was to learn about the current Formula 2 generation before moving on to hours of race footage.


    A quick, effortless search yielded detailed information about all fifteen teams, their sponsors, and drivers. It was a surprisingly extensive list, featuring over 60 Formula 2 drivers, many of whom Luca could now identify easily after participating in two races.


    Luca''s gaze lingered on the most prominent teams as he scanned through the profiles, absorbing every face, name, age, team role, and, most importantly, their personal achievements.


    Trampos Racing


    ¨CAnsel Hahn


    ¨CLuca Rennick


    Squadra Corse Jnr.


    ¨CAlbert Derstappen


    ¨CMiles Bellingham


    Hatcherk Motorsport


    ¨CSean Aaronson


    ¨CPeter De Klerk S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr.


    ¨CMax Addams


    ¨CDani Walding


    Retona Racing


    ¨COliver Kristensen


    ¨CVlad Volyinski


    Out of everyone, the most decorated driver was Max Addams, as the data made clear to Luca. The Canadian had built an impressive record to reflect on. Over his four years in Formula 2, the 24-year-old had amassed 30 podium finishes, secured 14 race wins, and placed in the top five of the championship standings for three consecutive seasons. Overall, Max Addams was the powerhouse of Bueseno Velocit¨¤. His consistency in securing pole positions always worked to his advantage during races.


    Recollecting the fact that he had outpaced such a veteran made Luca smile. The reigning F2 champion, no less.


    After studying the data intently, Luca formed a personal hierarchy of the most decorated drivers currently competing. Notable names like Denko Rutherford and Dante Reyes had already transitioned to the main division, but among those remaining, Luca placed Max Addams at the top of his list, followed by Aaronson, Derstappen, and then his own teammate, Ansel.


    This ranking wasn''t based solely on last season''s final standings, which were indeed similar. Instead, Luca meticulously considered the drivers'' achievements and concluded that these were the very best in the field.


    In the previous season, Bueseno Velocit¨¤ had clinched the championship title with a commanding 70-point lead over Hatcherk Motorsport. Both Addams and Aaronson had carried their teams to such heights. Surprisingly, third place hadn''t gone to Squadra Corse, which finished fifth that year. Instead, third place was claimed by Retona, thanks to Dante Reyes¡ªa major asset they had lost after his six-year tenure with the team. Fourth place went to Nevada Jnr, and fifth to Squadra.


    Trampos Racing had failed to crack the top five. The last time they had managed it was two years ago, finishing fifth with a slim three-point margin over sixth. That result explained why Ansel had ended the season in eighth place. Still, Luca couldn''t blame him entirely¡ªit had been a highly competitive season. He was here to change that. After all, many of the drivers here were losing their form. Aaronson and Derstappen, in particular, were no longer performing at their peak. Rumors were circulating that their teams had begun scouting for solutions¡ªbetter, younger drivers.


    Luca was determined to capitalize on this shift. He was becoming a machine in his own right, and the timing couldn''t have been better.


    A sigh escaped Luca''s lips as he realized he had been submerged in his thoughts. Blinking himself back to focus, he moved on to the next piece of information he planned to study.


    Luca had managed to obtain past public telemetry data from other teams. Accessing such data was completely legal and surprisingly easy and straightforward. All it required was a query into F2''s shared resources and databases, coupled with publicly available data from official FIA releases during steward screenings. Enjoy new tales from empire


    The telemetry data from the top five teams of last season''s Dutch Grand Prix caught Luca''s attention the most. He had overheard the Trampos crew discussing that race at length, particularly its suspenseful moments and the three DNFs.


    Sitting cross-legged on his bed, Luca set the hefty book of thin pages and blue-printed layouts in front of him. His eyes were drawn to Bueseno Velocit¨¤''s data, focusing on Max Addams and Dani Walding. He was eager to understand, graphically and analytically with the help of annotations, key metrics and charts, how they managed their cars and engines to fend off Aaronson''s attacks¡ªultimately forcing Aaronson to spin out of the track. That race had been a turning point, with Max Addams clinching a win that significantly bolstered his championship campaign.


    [Intelligence +1]


    Good at navigating his System''s interface, Luca found the telemetry data straightforward to decode. The more he analyzed, the more absorbed he became, with the sun dipping lower in the sky.


    Max Addams'' race strategy, when broken down visually, was as fascinating as it was on the track. Luca learned much from analyzing two races, ensuring he studied Ansel''s performance as well. The data brought the race to life in his mind¡ªthe ups and downs of the graphs mirrored the tension of each lap, the echo of team radios filled his ears, and he could almost feel the engines'' heat and the speed fluctuations reflecting each strategic decision.


    It was both sad and amusing to see Aaronson''s data flatline to zero once his car came to a halt, vividly detailing his inability to continue. His aggressive accelerations on the straights stood out to Luca as reckless unless there was a clear overtaking opportunity. Based on Aaronson''s data, it seemed first place was always the priority.


    It sure is, Luca thought, stifling a yawn as the room filled with the warm glow of the setting sun.


    He was tired.


    After spending an hour behind a strength-straining single-seater earlier that day, Luca could feel fatigue creeping in. His eyes were heavy from scanning endless alphanumeric data and graphs.


    Closing the weighty book, Luca rolled off the bed and walked to the window to shut the curtains. Outside, the open area of the headquarters was mostly empty, with only distant chatter breaking the evening silence.


    Drawing the curtains brought a satisfying darkness to the room. He wanted one thing now¡ªfood. Stepping out, he grabbed a can of Fijee before the cool evening breeze greeted him, his hair shifting lightly in the wind.


    The fizz of the energy drink sparkled as he cracked open the can, releasing a sharp citrus scent into the air. Luca took a refreshing sip as he walked down the steel stairs.

 Chapter 69 A Steady Start 4

    The next day was a near copy-and-paste of the previous one for Luca, though he managed to fit some time in the simulator into his schedule.After settling into the cockpit-like seat, Luca strapped on the required gear and immersed himself in the virtual track. His goal was to sharpen his reflexes and decision-making under pressure, replicating the intense environment and conditions of a real race. While doing this, he also practiced responding to real-time instructions from his engineering team, who provided crucial feedback on tire choices and driving strategies.


    Amusingly for Luca, the simulator''s team engineer voice sounded exactly like, if not identical to, the ones from the video games he had played. This made the simulation feel less foreign and even more entertaining, as it felt more like he was on a mission rather than just racing for victory.


    The computer-generated opponents were coded with advanced algorithms to mimic real racers, making decisions based on specific conditions and generally putting up a tough fight. For nearly an hour, Luca pushed himself against these virtual rivals while Ansel and Haas trained on the track.


    After completing two virtual races, Luca was surprised that his System didn''t reward him with even a single point for all the hard work he had put in. Sighing in slight disappointment, he exited the simulator and went on to finish the rest of his Daily Routine. By that time, Mr. Grant would likely have completed the session with Ansel and Haas, ready to focus on Luca as planned.


    Returning to his accommodations, Luca refreshed himself with a satisfying breakfast before heading out, leaving little time to check his phone for important messages. Jogging to the uniform building, he donned Trampos''s colors and made his way to the track.


    Mr. Grant had just finished a session with Ansel and Haas, the three of them conversing just beside the track. As Luca approached, helmet in hand, he had the distinct feeling that they were discussing something important. And these conversations was the kind he l Iiked to be part of.


    Ansel stood up from his single-seater as Luca arrived, and everyone exchanged greetings. Mr. Moritz, ever boisterous, threw an arm around Luca''s neck, jerking him playfully but with enough force to make Luca wince. "I hope you''re feeling fresh! We''re upping the difficulty today!" Mr. Moritz sneered. He glanced over at Haas and Ansel. "Would you two like to stay and watch me torture this lad?"


    Haas shook his head and began to unzip his suit, the crew jogging toward them to roll their cars out. "Not for me," he said, giving his car one last pat before walking off. "I would rather go home."


    Luca humbly stepped aside, giving Haas enough room to pass.


    Ansel sighed, as though exhaustion was something entirely new to him. He locked eyes with Luca and shrugged.


    Luca wasn''t about to beg anyone to stay and watch him train. In fact, he preferred fewer spectators. "No problem," he said calmly. "Go get some rest."


    Ansel approached Luca and leaned in to whisper, "I don''t get it, man. You''re not even driving in the next races. Why''s your schedule so tight, huh?" sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You''ve seen it," Luca replied, his frown betraying his frustration.


    Ansel chuckled deeply like an old man, tapping Luca heavily on the shoulder before ambling away toward the uniform building.


    "Alllrrright!" Mr. Moritz bellowed, his voice echoing across the facility. "Let''s get these cars cleared out and bring in a fresh one ASAP!"


    Two minutes later, Luca''s Dallara was towed to the track, its sleek frame as appealing as a perfectly sculpted work of art.


    ''Ready to go,'' his System confirmed, and without hesitation, Luca climbed into the cockpit to begin his session. Read new adventures at empire


    ------------------------------------------------------------------------


    By 4 PM, the day had ended for most, but Luca was still deeply engrossed in the telemetry data books. It felt like deciphering a complex, cryptic formula¡ªdense with variables¡ªyet somehow, Luca found clarity. Understanding the patterns made him feel like a choreographer, as vivid images of race strategies played in his mind.


    Even after speaking with Mr. Mallow, Luca returned to this newfound obsession. Mallow had dropped by to check on him¡ªnot because Luca needed supervision, but because Mallow wanted to pat him on the back and commend him for his radiant charm.


    Luca had unintentionally attracted the endorsement of Felicity Hawthorne, the wealthiest cattle ranch owner in England. Mallow had acquired her contact through Luca and began speaking with the charismatic woman immediately, sharing Luca''s journey into motorsport and highlighting his progress. Mallow believed this was an essential setup for a potential endorsement and was keen to take a measured pace before diving into the finer details.


    Luca, amused by Mallow''s enthusiasm, laughed off the praise, had lunch with him, and saw him off before returning to his routine.


    Now, Luca''s eyes were sore¡ªnot from exhaustion, but from hours of poring over data. Yet, he wasn''t ready to stop. His eyes ached from staring at pages filled with insights and strategies, but his determination pushed him forward.


    As the sun dipped below the horizon and he prepared to wrap up the day after a refreshing shower and dinner, Luca settled into bed. Underneath a warm blanket, his laptop screen cast a soft glow in the otherwise dark room.


    Navigating to his first choice, Luca double-clicked and tapped the spacebar. The screen momentarily darkened before illuminating with the familiar logo of Formula 1, accompanied by last season''s iconic theme song that built anticipation.


    The F1 logo quickly transitioned to the F2 emblem with a zap mimicking the speed of a single-seater.


    "...Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Austrian Grand Prix...!"


    The voice of Steve Cole, Formula 2''s seasoned commentator, crackled through the speakers as the screen displayed Austria''s circuit teeming with cheering fans and glimpses of Vienna in the background.


    Luca sank further into his bed, eager to binge-watch the race until sleep claimed him.


    The championship standings appeared on the screen, followed by precise data designed to help viewers catch up on the season''s developments.


    The film quickly skipped to the electrifying starting grid. Luca''s gaze locked on Trampos''s colors, easily picking out the familiar designs among the other teams.

 Chapter 70 Scarlet Focus

    Azerbaijan, a country located at the crossroads of Eastern Europe and Western Asia, was known for its rich cultural heritage, stunning landscapes, and modern architecture. The capital, Baku¨Cthe team''s destination¨Cwas also famous for its blend of ancient and contemporary structure. The circuit hosting the weekend''s F2 and F1 races was sure to have these unique features, making their grandstands and overall track structure very different from others.The Baku city''s dynamic cityscape was on full reveal as the track weaved through the forked streets. Unlike Monte Carlo, the attendance matched the television viewership. The culturally rich country attracted fans globally, with tourism spiking as motorsport seeped into its lands for the year.


    Luca wished he could race in such a beautiful atmosphere. The humidity was perfect, the sky neither too bright nor too dark. The track itself was fairly accommodating, with 50 laps marking the path to victory.


    The Trampos team attended a convention immediately after their arrival. Retona, Hatcherk, and three average teams were also present.


    Luca later learned that the teams in attendance shared the same racing suit manufacturer¡ªVeststar. This was merely a convention event that they were all obliged to attend. Luca preferred Squadra Corse Jnr''s racing suit manufacturer. Then again, he remembered that junior teams shared their senior teams'' sponsors, making their features more polished and advanced. By contrast, Veststar and Over Armour were typically affiliated with F2 teams that lacked senior counterparts.


    Everyone but the Veststar management seemed eager to wrap up the event. Being in the same venue as opponents they''d soon face in the next few days felt stifling. Luca was sure he saw Aaronson clutching the tablecloth in frustration. His irritation now and back in Monte Carlo was evident. Luca''s best guess was that he''d be the aggressive one on the track there in Baku, a chance of redemption at its finest. Ansel and Haas would need to watch out for him.


    Moving on to the training facility designated for them, Trampos Racing wasted no time starting their drills.


    Luca spent his time with the crew observing Ansel and Haas'' driving as they drilled themselves and the team''s strategies for the race. As a spectator, Luca noticed that Haas'' driving exuded confidence, the kind that consistently landed in the top five. He sincerely hoped this form would persist, as maintaining a substantial point difference from Bueseno Velocit¨¤ was what truly mattered.


    Occasionally, Luca joined the drills whenever Mr. Grant suggested it, injecting some healthy competition into the mix. Despite the packed schedule, Mr. Grant carved out time to continue Luca''s program.


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    Race day approached, and the Baku National Circuit buzzed with life. The boulevard region, Old City, offered a perfect blend of modern and historic landmarks, creating an ideal backdrop for the race. This picturesque setting gave Luca faint hope that the calm, enigmatic atmosphere might temper and mellow the fierce competition set to unfold.


    Luca found himself lost in thought, the bustling team garage a background to his wandering mind as he stared at the pristine Dallara chassis. The mechanics worked meticulously, inspecting the cars for the upcoming Featured Race. Ansel and Haas had just finished the 30-lap Sprint Race, with Ansel taking 1st and Haas securing 3rd.


    That might seem like a solid result, but Luca wasn''t entirely convinced. Bueseno Velocit¨¤ had fielded their reserves instead of Addams and Walding, and Hatcherk followed the same approach. However, Squadra Corse did play Miles, who claimed 2nd. A warm-up race after all, Luca thought.


    One of the crew members noticed Luca''s gaze fixed on the rear of the sleek single-seater. The chubby fellow tapped and caressed the frame where "Catapult" was boldly brandished near Haas'' number 39. "A wonderful machine, isn''t it?" the crew member muttered, interpreting Luca''s stare as admiration.


    Luca nodded, inhaling sharply as he straightened up. "Yup, it is," he replied, looking up at the man. "I''m sure you''ve dreamt a lot about driving it."


    The crew member grinned, his cheeks reddening slightly as though Luca had uncovered a private fantasy. "Oh, you bet I do," he admitted. "Especially when you guys lose it out there. Feels like I should step in and save the day myself."


    Luca chuckled, nodding his head as his eyes returned to the four-wheeler. It was, after all, a dream machine for many. "But why the Dallara, though?" he asked after a brief pause. "Why not any other model for F2?"


    "The Federation changes the spec chassis every generation, and this generation''s the F2 04," the crew member replied, adding, "alongside its Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit."


    Luca raised a brow. "You could just say SomberCore and save yourself the trouble," he pointed out.


    "Yeah, just like to keep it official sometimes. Not all engines have nicknames, just the notable ones," the crew member said, glancing around. "We''ll speak later, mate. I''ll be right back."


    Luca watched him walk away dutifully and disappear up the stairs where more colors of Trampos Racing were crowded. He returned his gaze to the Dallara chassis. I wonder why the SomberCore. System, what''s special about it?


    [Host has been previously synched with Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit (SomberCore)]


    [So data on Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit (SomberCore) can be retrieved]


    [Retrieving Data...]


    [.... Data Retrieved]


    [The Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit, known as the SomberCore, is a B-level engine specifically designed for the Dallara F2 04. It features a 1.2L V6 turbocharged hybrid engine, delivering around 620 hp and 800 Nm of torque. The hybrid system includes a KERS that provides an additional 120 kW of power, enhancing acceleration and an overall stable performance.]


    [This power unit is integral to F2''s competitive landscape, balancing power and efficiency while meeting the series'' dynamic regulations and competition. The use of bio-fuel also reflects a commitment to sustainability within motorsport.]


    [The Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit is essential for teams aiming to maximize performance while maintaining reliability across multiple race weekends, ensuring a level playing field in the championship.]


    B-level engine you say? So there are C and A-levels?


    [Yes. Formula 1 teams are typically allowed to use any level. However the feeder series are restricted to B and C accordingly.]


    I didn''t know they were graded.


    Luca quickly glanced to his right, where Ansel and Haas had emerged from their prep room. The race was about to begin, and he realized he''d been so lost in thought that he hadn''t noticed the rising cheers of the distant spectators.


    Numbers 43 and 39 stood ready, boldly adorned in the red-and-black livery with subtle white accents, their helmets gripped securely in their hands. Luca rose to his feet, joining the cluster of team members offering encouraging taps and words of motivation before Mr. Grant made his arrival.


    "Don''t worry. I''ll make sure we win," Ansel assured, giving Luca a confident pat on the shoulder.


    Luca''s gaze shifted to Haas, hoping for a similar sentiment, maybe words of assurance for good points, but Haas remained stoic and silent. With Mr. Grant and Mr. Moritz approaching, Luca stepped aside to make way.


    Grabbing a bottle of water, he made his way to the paddock and slumped into one of the cushioned seats, nestled between other crew members and Victor, the American. It didn''t take three seconds, the paddock was already filled with masculine frames and deep voices discussing amongst themselves as the single-seaters were rolled out.


    Luca''s eyes wandered to the track. Under the shimmering sunlight, it seemed like a venue fit for the Greek gods to race, with Trampos'' cars commanding attention from P1 and P2 on the grid¡ªa flawless starting position. He silently hoped Haas wouldn''t just squander the advantage.


    Unwrapping a stick of gum, he popped the pink piece into his mouth, chewing methodically. He recalled someone mentioning that gum helped reduce blood pressure, something he might need as the tension built on this sunlit afternoon in Baku.


    With his arms folded and his posture leaning forward, Luca chewed slowly, the grinding of the gum echoing louder in his ears than the distant hum of the crowd. Perhaps it was because of the dead silence in the paddock, every crew member holding their breath as they awaited lights out.

 Chapter 71 A Podium Without Glory

    Luca had watched races from the grandstands and on screens, but never had he experienced a race from the paddock. It was a whole new experience¡ªa heart-wrenching one at that.The start and the first few laps were okay, but as the race progressed, Trampos wasn''t exactly where they had planned to be. The P2 Luca had secured for Haas was totally lost; the 21-year-old was battling in P5, barely holding onto it as the 15th lap concluded.


    Luca forced himself not to think much about Ansel, despite being utterly disappointed. He tried to console himself with the fact that his friend must be having a hard time out there. Yet again, the heaviness in Luca''s heart was palpable when everyone witnessed Sean Aaronson, whom he had feared the most today, outpace Ansel after a grueling duel.


    Aaronson currently held the fastest lap. His rise from P7 to P1 was something worthy of the history books, with Hatcherk Motorsport''s fans wild with chants. Luca could even hear Steve Cole''s voice resonating through the circuit, proclaiming the artistry and precision with which the Australian executed a street bend to take the lead.


    Luca was frustrated but also frightened for Ansel. He knew very well how easy it was to lose momentum after being overtaken. It was like a dam breaking, opening the floodgates for other rivals to zoom past. Each driver was hungry for the opportunity, and once the lead slipped away, it became a relentless battle to regain it. Luca vented his anger on his bubblegum, watching as Ansel made a bend, his number displayed on the screen. Miles was behind him, only seconds away, and was surely hungry to reclaim P2.


    Luca glanced to his left, peering through the crack of the telemetry room''s door. There he could see Mr. Moritz speaking commandingly into the radio, his expression clearly unsatisfied with the current results.


    "...on the 20th lap..." Luca heard the announcement echo through the grandstands. The information was confirmed on the screen he was watching, his teeth sore from chewing too hard on his gum.


    Occasionally, he would glance up at the track whenever Ansel zoomed past the lane closest to their garage. Eventually, one of Ansel''s approaches brought him into the pit lane for a pit stop, the 25th lap forcing him to refresh his car.


    All the Trampos individuals in the paddock, including Luca, rose to their feet as Ansel barreled toward the pit lane, his tires visibly worn. Once he boxed, the pit crew executed their work smoothly and seamlessly, granting him a quick turnaround to rejoin the race.


    With Ansel''s car so close during the pit stop, Luca couldn''t resist quickly commanding the System to analyze it, hoping to discern Ansel''s performance trends over time.


    [Vehicle Specifications:


    Brand: Dallara


    Model: F2 04


    Engine Type: Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit (SomberCore)


    Weight: 740 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h (70 km/h) (250¡ª0km/h in the last five seconds) (20km/h each millisecond) Experience tales at empire


    Acceleration: 4.0 sec (0¡ª100km/h) (25 km/h per second)


    Max Power: 620 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 80%


    Tire Condition: Used


    Telemetry Status: Active


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    Luca joined in on the claps as Ansel zoomed back onto the track, still holding P2.


    Sighing, the team returned to their seats, slumping back into them while picking up their water bottles for a drink. By the 30th lap, Haas had fallen to 6th, with Max Addams and Miles Bellingham closing their duel dangerously close to Ansel. Meanwhile, Aaronson was significantly far ahead, making any chance of catching up seem almost impossible.


    The race was grueling to watch, every bend becoming a disappointment and ultimately detrimental to Trampos Racing.


    By the 45th lap, the situation seemed hopeless, the paddock filled with grunts and murmurs of discontent. Luca cursed under his breath, his frustration bubbling as he heard the chants of rival supporters growing louder. He glanced at the pit wall, watching as Ansel struggled to fend off the aggressive pressure. The gap to Aaronson remained insurmountable, and just as the final lap began, Max Addams made his move, slipping ahead of Ansel into P2.


    Everyone in the paddock rose to their feet in protest, but it was futile¡ªthe checkered flag was already waving, signaling the end. A heavy silence fell over the team as they sank back into their seats, watching the cars come to a stop at the cooldown lane.


    "...Sean Aaronson makes Baku count! Hatcherk has finally claimed first in this season''s championship! Ansel Hahn failed to capitalize on his pole position, and not only did the Australian veteran take advantage, so did reigning champion Max Addams, who edged in for P2...!"


    "WOOOHHHH!"


    The Trampos Racing fans offered hollow cheers, their disappointment evident despite Ansel managing to secure a podium finish. It had been an hour and fifteen minutes of watching a downward spiral and a clear degradation in performance. The cheers that filled the grandstands were reserved for Aaronson, who proudly celebrated with an Australian flag, waving it triumphantly to the crowd. Some applause was directed at Max Addams, who had likely started a new podium streak after his stumble in Monte Carlo.


    The mood in the paddock shifted dramatically as the team jumped into action, a tense silence permeating the space despite the bustling crowd. Luca spotted Ansel exiting his Dallara, pulling off his helmet. Luca immediately focused on his teammate''s expression¡ªit was exactly what he had hoped for and was glad there was no hint of satisfaction. There was absolutely nothing to be satisfied about. The team had squandered significant points after starting with their drivers in pole position and P2.


    Luca maneuvered through the cluster of Trampos personnel, hoping to intercept Ansel before he reached the garage. The distant chants of the crowd provided a dramatic backdrop to the tense atmosphere. He nearly collided with Mia, a crew member frantically jotting notes about the race, which slowed him just enough for Ansel to enter the telemetry room first. As he followed, Luca noticed team members offering Ansel supportive pats on the back.


    Upon entering the telemetry room, where Mr. Grant, Mr. Moritz, and several engineers were already gathered, Luca could feel the pressure hanging thick. He stood behind Ansel, who was bracing himself for the debrief¡ªwhether it would be stern or supportive was yet to be seen.


    Luca''s simmering frustration began to cool when he caught sight of Ansel''s expression. He looked more displeased than anyone else in the room, even more so than Haas, who had stumbled in moments earlier, visibly exhausted after finishing 7th. Ansel seemed on the verge of snapping at anyone who dared remind him of the grueling 50 laps he had endured. Luca decided it wouldn''t be him. Instead, he sank into a chair, quietly observing the discussions taking place.


    The glaring issue for Trampos Racing during this event had been the distance between their two drivers for most of the race. While teammates don''t often race in unison, the strategic advantage of running close together¡ªvisually reinforcing their presence¡ªcan sometimes prove beneficial, even if marginally so. Today, however, it was evident to Luca that Erik Haas hadn''t been a strong enough teammate for Ansel, at least in his opinion.


    Moreover, after thorough review, Mr. Moritz voiced his concern, highlighting that Ansel himself hadn''t been at his best during the race. The telemetry data revealed telling signs of his uncertainty and lack of confidence during the race, illustrating his erratic throttle applications which cost him precious time on the track.


    Ansel''s frustration was evident as he absorbed the feedback, his cold gaze fixed on the screens in reluctant acknowledgment. Mr. Moritz shifted the discussion to the car''s suspension settings, pointing out how Ansel''s struggles in cornering were clearly reflected in the data. By contrast, Haas'' performance needed no detailed analysis¡ªit had been subpar from the start, with little to review beyond the glaringly poor results.


    Ansel appeared ready to defend himself, but the call for the press cut the briefing short. Alongside Mr. Grant and Haas, he left for the tunnel. Afterwards, the podium was set and the traditional celebration was ought to begin. Though Ansel and Trampos weren''t at the position they hoped they''d be, it was still obliged that he mounted the podium. And Ansel did just that, Hatcherk Motorsport''s fans cheering wildly for Aaronson who pumped his fist with pride and joy.


    Luca observed Azerbaijan took the day''s race as a ceremonial annual event. They say its Grand Prix was always a spectacle, with fans spilling into the streets, fireworks lighting up the skyline, and festivities stretched late into the evening. Most of which Ansel wasn''t interested in participating in. He hopped off the stage and returned to the team as they got ready to leave the circuit early on, allowing Aaronson and Hatcherk Motorsport to revel in their well-deserved glory. As a team with no seniors in F1, one could say Hatcherk Motorsport did very well solo.


    Inside the garage, the mood was markedly different from the festive air outside. The engineers and support staff moved methodically, packing up equipment and dismantling the temporary setups. The garage, which had buzzed with activity just hours earlier, was now filled with the sound of metal clanking and the rustling of tarps being rolled up. Luca decided to join the effort and give Ansel some time to refresh. His own mind was still replaying the race highlights, particularly the distance that had plagued Ansel and Haas throughout.


    Trampos Racing disassembled their cars and equipment before loading their trucks. Leaving the vibrant atmosphere of Baku National Circuit behind, they rolled out an hour later to their designated accommodation.


    Luca could only glance at the team standings after this.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -------------------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 128


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 96


    3. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 63


    4. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 59


    5. | Retona Racing | 12


    Luca could see the gap between Trampos and Bueseno was still acceptable, at the very least, and Hatcherk still had a long way to prove a reasonable threat to them. But still, if the day''s race had gone in Trampos''s favor, the gap would have been much bigger, giving them a more relaxed mind and greater flexibility for pardoning mistakes in the long run.


    Luca had no intention of staying long in Azerbaijan, much less touring around. The country had a strikingly different language he was sure he would never get to understand in a lifetime. The unfamiliar sounds and characters seemed to mock his attempts at communication, as well as the results from the other day, while the country''s capital kept buzzing with motorsport. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca made time to watch Formula 1 the next day and was glad that he did. He was able to watch as a spectator with a bag of chips in his hand, witnessing Nevada HanSama claim first, Squadra Corse take second, and Bueseno Velocit¨¤ claim third. It was a wonderful race in his opinion and one of the few things he enjoyed in Baku, along with the sprawling landscapes and historical sites.


    Apart from that, Luca yearned for their return to Berlin. The air and the familiarity of their headquarters'' track would surely put the team back into focus for the possibilities ahead.


    The flight seemed shorter than when they came, and Luca was able to strike up conversations with Ansel once again, deliberately keeping the race out of them.


    Bahrain Grand Prix


    Location: Sakhir, Bahrain


    Date: Apr 21


    Track: Bahrain International Circuit


    Hmm, another unpopular country? Luca wondered to himself. He pondered how many points Trampos would have after Bahrain, with him being in the paddock once again.

 Chapter 72 Spring Air

    Explore more at empireMidweek Schedule, Apr 15., Trampos Racing headquarters, Germany.


    "The team can still survive Bahrain on top. Thirty points is enough to keep our rivals at bay for one race," said Mr. Fisher to Mr. Grant. "But after that, you''ll have to put Rennick behind the wheel for the rest of the season."


    Mr. Grant nodded in response, his eyes drifting through the glass walls of the management building. From their vantage point, the headquarters'' track came into view, where the Trampos drivers were locked in a strict training session. Mr. Moritz oversaw the drills below while Mr. Grant engaged in this official conversation with the President.


    "I am still very much interested in understanding why Hahn fell short," Mr. Fisher continued, his hands comfortably lodged in his pockets. For a man of his round stature, his height gave him an imposing presence, taller even than Mr. Grant. His belt, strained under the effort of restraining his belly, seemed symbolic of the discipline he expected from his team. "We cannot plan to build a top-tier driver when the one we already have closest to that level is showing signs of decline."


    Mr. Grant bit his lip. There was no denying the poor display of Ansel''s performance in Baku. A mere periodic setback or not, it was completely not acceptable in a team where he was considered the crucial driver. "We''re still having much analysis as we believe it must''ve been a nonphysical influence on him. Perhaps, pairing with Haas in a competitive atmosphere like a Featured Race was something fresh," Mr. Grant replied, unintentionally defending Ansel. "He would have to adapt to that. Bahrain Grand Prix is like just a week away, and Trampos still owes Haas one more Featured Race," he added to neutralize his stance.


    Mr. Fisher chuckled, pulling a hand from his pocket to rub his belly. His secretary entered the room, handing him a document to sign. He accepted it with a quick flourish of his pen, then turned his attention back to the track. Three single-seaters zipped by, their engines growling. "I can see he has better chemistry with Rennick," Mr. Fisher remarked. "We''ll focus on that in the second half of the season. By mid-season, I''ll make it my priority to allocate additional resources to you."


    "Resources?"


    "Yes, Mr. Grant," Mr. Fisher affirmed with a slight smile. "Better staff, improved equipment for the boys. You, Mr. Grant, will have the privilege of selecting these new additions¡ªwithin the confines of our budget, of course."


    "That''s wonderful. I appreciate it," Mr. Grant replied.


    "It''s for the team, Mr. Grant," Mr. Fisher said.


    Remembering what Luca''s Personal Trainer had mentioned days ago, Mr. Grant suddenly grew worried. The prospect of grooming Luca into a world-class racing force, only for a Formula 1 team to poach him, gnawed at him. Unable to shake the concern, he voiced it to Mr. Fisher.


    Mr. Fisher listened thoughtfully, nodding as though considering the possibility for the first time. But when Mr. Grant finished, he dismissed the concern with a shrug. "We''ll turn down their offers," he said simply, almost a mutter. "We still have two and a half years on his contract. I even intend to extend that." S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What if he wants out?" Mr. Grant challenged. "You can''t deny the possibility of him aiming higher, can you?"


    "We''ll turn down all offers," Mr. Fisher repeated, his voice resolute.


    "And if that leaves us with an unhappy driver in the team?"


    Mr. Fisher''s gaze hardened as the drivers began rolling to a stop, the clock ticking close to 2:30 p.m. "If it comes to that, Mr. Grant, then it''s inevitable. The cycle of sending top talent to the premier teams will go on." His voice carried a grim finality that echoed the weight of their reality.


    -------------------------


    Luca removed his helmet as soon as he exited the cockpit. He exhaled deeply, relishing the cool spring air as it filled his lungs, a welcome relief from the confines of the helmet and cockpit. He glanced over to see Ansel and Haas already starting to undress, Ansel tugging off his gloves with quick movements.


    The training session had gone well. Luca felt a sense of accomplishment, confident in the progress he had made by seamlessly blending the day''s programmes. "So, heading home after this?" Luca asked casually, turning toward Ansel.


    "Yeah," Ansel replied with a grunt, pulling out his arm from the snug suit. "We''ll be back tomorrow, so I need to rest as much as possible."


    Luca nodded, stepping aside as the team rolled his car off the track. His gaze briefly flicked toward Mr. Fisher and Mr. Grant, who stood behind the glass walls observing them, but he avoided making full eye contact. "Sounds good. What do you usually do when you''re home?" Luca asked, genuinely curious about what Ansel does whenever he goes home.


    Ansel''s brows furrowed, not just from his poor performance earlier but from the realization that his home life was far from exciting, and there was really nothing he did. "Not much," he admitted with a shrug. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Want to come over? We could finally play that Playstation."


    That''s exactly what I want, Luca thought, but he kept his excitement contained, allowing only a small grin to break through. "Sure thing, man. I could use a change of scenery, and I''d love to see your place," he replied.


    As the cars were cleared from the track, the day''s work officially wrapped up. Everyone was free to unwind, though the week ahead promised a grueling schedule for Trampos Racing¡ªand Luca especially¡ªwith no respite until the weekend.


    After a refreshing shower, Luca dressed in a black hoodie with the word "Veststar" emblazoned in white across the chest, paired with black joggers and white sneakers. He left his hair in its natural tousled state and pocketed his phone before stepping outside.


    At the towering gates, Ansel was waiting for him, leaning casually against his KIA sedan. The sight of his teammate, dressed in his usual laid-back attire, made Luca''s grin widen as he approached.

 Chapter 73 Hans Second Racetrack

    The drive to Ansel''s home was quiet as Luca sat watching the roads and streets zoom by, accompanied by the hum of the air conditioning and the radio buzzing faintly through the car''s interior.Luca noticed Ansel was rather cautious, diligently obeying traffic signs and signals and making calculated turns. His driving was starkly different from the aggressive, high-speed style required on the track. As he executed a precise U-turn, Ansel signaled toward the next street, mentioning that it would ultimately lead to his home.


    Luca''s body jolted slightly as the car''s tires rolled over a narrow road bump. Meanwhile, the radio''s volume suddenly seemed louder as the announcer transitioned to a segment on top-tier sports, delving into the thrilling motorsports scene of the century. As Luca had anticipated, the announcer soon began discussing the ongoing championship, offering a detailed review of the latest Grand Prix in Azerbaijan and breaking down results from both divisions.


    Ansel cursed under his breath almost immediately upon hearing the segment. Without hesitation, he removed one hand from the wheel to quickly switch off the radio, restoring the car to its tranquil silence. Luca acted as if he hadn''t noticed, keeping his gaze fixed outside the window. The view outside swirled as the car smoothly entered a roundabout and then began ascending a hill.


    They soon entered Charlottenburg, an upscale neighborhood with quiet, tree-lined streets and homes that exuded charm and affluence. The houses boasted elegant balconies, well-maintained gardens, and architectural designs that seamlessly blended natural aesthetics with modern luxury. From his seat, Luca could tell that these homes were worth thousands of dollars each, their tasteful designs exuding comfort and sophistication. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After a brief ride through the serene neighborhood, Ansel pulled up in front of a striking house that combined brick and glass in its modern design. Its large windows bathed the interiors in soft, late-afternoon light, while a manicured lawn and neatly framed pathways welcomed visitors with a sense of refinement.


    "Beautiful house," Luca remarked as he stepped out of the car once Ansel turned off the engine. He lingered for a moment, taking in the home''s aesthetic, already envisioning his future house resembling something similar.


    "Thank you," Ansel replied with a nod before leaning into the backseat to retrieve his large bag. Straightening up, he tapped a button on his key to lock the car.


    Beep beep went the KIA.


    "It''s been two years since I got it," Ansel said, leading the way to the doorstep, where vibrant flower beds framed the walkway in bursts of color. At the stylish wooden front door, he gave a firm but casual knock.


    The door swung open a few moments later to reveal a slender brunette with wide lips and a pointed nose. Luca instantly recognized her¡ªLaura, Ansel''s fianc¨¦e. Her gaze flitted between the two men before she offered a slightly nervous but warm "hello" and stepped forward to embrace Ansel.


    Ansel dropped his bag to return her hug, holding her close. Their embrace ended with a firm kiss, one that left Luca standing humbly to the side.


    "Laura, I''m sure Luca isn''t a stranger to you," Ansel said, gesturing toward him.


    "Oh, of course not," Laura replied, extending her hand for a polite shake, which Luca accepted with a slight nod. "I remember him well. Please, come in! I made pasta salad," she added cheerfully, ushering the men inside.


    Ansel motioned for Luca to step in first, while Laura led them into a grand living room. The space was inviting yet refined, illuminated by large floor-to-celieng windows that accentuated the bright white walls. A few artworks and personal photos adorned the space, including snapshots of Ansel and Laura together. Among the frames, Luca also noticed unfamiliar faces, likely Ansel''s family members.


    Truthfully, he had no idea Ansel had a loving part of himself to cultivate such a warm welcoming place. Watching the ease between Ansel and Laura, Luca couldn''t help but think they made an ideal pair. Their shared energy radiated harmony, as though their future together was already written in stone.


    The sound of cartoons crept into Luca''s awareness. He looked in the direction of the TV, where a popular cartoon, SpongeBob SquarePants, was rolling brightly with a loud volume. The plaited head of a young girl poked above the couch that directly faced the TV, her attention clearly undivided and fixed on the pink starfish that was being displayed.


    Luca''s brow lifted in surprise, his thoughts racing. He glanced briefly at Ansel and Laura, now chatting quietly near the dining table, before looking back at the girl.


    Love sure manifests in unexpected ways, he mused, surprised Ansel had never mentioned the ultimate product of love already gracing his home.


    "Uncle!" the girl suddenly shrieked, leaping up from the couch to face them. Her bright eyes sparkled as she grinned, finally acknowledging the newcomers.


    Uncle?


    Luca watched the little girl weave expertly through the glamorous furniture before crashing into Ansel, who knelt to wrap her in a warm embrace.


    Judging by her size and demeanor, Luca placed her age at around six, which made him wonder exactly how long Ansel and Laura had been together. But she had said "Uncle," hadn''t she?


    Clearing his throat, Luca observed the playful interaction. Ansel had scooped her up, tossing her lightly before holding her close again. "She''s your niece?" Luca asked. Enjoy new stories from empire


    An amused smile spread across Laura''s face as she stepped toward the doorway, though Luca''s question stopped her mid-stride. "Did you think she''s our child?" she asked with a soft chuckle.


    "Who wouldn''t? I mean..."


    "No," the couple replied in unison. Ansel set the girl back down gently and motioned toward her. "She''s my sister''s daughter. Her name''s Emma. Emma, this is Mr. Luca Rennick," he introduced warmly.


    Luca raised a brow, crouching slightly to her level. "You can just call me Luca, dear."


    "Why''re you standing, mate? Grab a seat," Ansel said, gesturing to the room''s plush furnishings as Laura disappeared toward the kitchen to prepare the pasta salad. "I''ll put Emma to bed. Bet she hasn''t slept a wink today."


    "No! I don''t wanna sleep!" Emma protested, but Ansel had no patience for negotiations. He scooped her up easily, ignoring her brief squirming until she finally gave up, resting her head against his shoulder. Luca watched as they disappeared upstairs.


    Now alone in the living room, Luca wandered to the couch, where an orange tabby cat dozed peacefully. He chose a seat near the edge and let his eyes drift back to the TV, where a fresh episode of the cartoon was starting.


    For a moment, he let himself be entertained by the cartoon''s bright colors and whimsical antics. When Ansel returned, he carried two cups and a couple of stout bottles, placing them on the coffee table.


    Ansel sank into the couch and sighed, clearly spent. "Emma''s six, by the way," he began, confirming Luca''s earlier guess. Over the next few minutes, he shared Emma''s story about how her father had passed away from cardiac arrest, leaving her mother to manage the household alone. Her work had taken her overseas, forcing her to entrust Emma to Ansel and Laura while they prepared for their own future together.


    Before Luca could respond, Laura reappeared with bowls of pasta salad. As she set them down, Ansel leaned forward, grabbing a PlayStation controller from the entertainment console and tossing another one to Luca.


    "Five rounds," Ansel said, smirking as he booted up the console. "Loser runs ten extra laps tomorrow."


    Luca grinned wildly, sitting up and adjusting himself. The controller did not feel foreign in his grasp at all. Playing videogames was his schtick, and he bet Ansel was a novice. "Very well, you''re on then," he replied.

 Chapter 74 Destined Path

    Luca spent the day immersed in gaming at Ansel''s home as if their life depended on it. Laura ensured the pair stayed fueled, continually bringing them snacks as the hours ticked by and the pasta salad disappeared.Just like Luca had anticipated, his gaming skills far outmatched Ansel''s. Whether it was racing or shooting games, Luca swept through each round with ease, leaving Ansel in a consistent state of defeat. By the time evening arrived, Ansel had lost their bet entirely, much to Luca''s amusement.


    When the sun dipped below the horizon, Ansel suggested Luca stay the night. Although tempted, Luca declined. He valued his routines and had responsibilities to address, particularly the looming Daily Quest he was still yet to get its notification.


    Despite being visibly tired, Ansel managed to drive Luca back to Trampos''s headquarters. The city''s nightscape blurred past them as the car weaved through its streets. Upon arrival, Luca exited, giving Ansel a casual wave goodbye. He made his way through the secure compound, greeted by patrolling guards, and climbed up to his private quarters.


    Once inside, Luca quickly got to work. The day''s Daily Quest involved a very easy task and it was mere wall push-ups. Within minutes, the notification appeared:


    [Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!]


    Satisfied, Luca headed to the bathroom for a refreshing shower. Dinner was next: a carefully crafted plate featuring grilled salmon marinated in olive oil, paired with fluffy quinoa. Roasted zucchini, carrots, and bell peppers completed the meal. The delicious aroma filled the room as Luca ate, reflecting on the day.


    He briefly considered resuming his training regimen by watching a race before bed. However, his eyes still felt strained from hours of gaming. Deciding against further screen time, Luca opted to retire early, letting his body and mind recharge for the challenges of the next day.


    --------------------------------------------


    The following day held as much energy and action as its predecessor. Trampos Headquarters bustled with activity as everyone returned to their routines, all eyes on the results from Bahrain''s preparations. Luca completed his tasks with Amir, skillfully balancing his Daily Routine with simulator sessions to hone his skills.


    By the time Luca finished his morning, Ansel and Haas had wrapped up their sessions as well. The trio took to the track, pushing the limits of their cars with undirected laps and swerves and acting as opponents for Luca''s Racecraft programme.


    Later in the day, the team gathered for a long-anticipated interview with the official Federation''s press. The atmosphere in the venue was lively, filled with the sound of clicking cameras and murmured conversations as journalists jockeyed for position. Mr. Grant dominated the discussion, confidently addressing questions about the recent results from Baku, and how the team would tackle and remedy the drop in points. He assured the press that Trampos Racing was poised to reclaim its standings, declaring with conviction, "This is our year to win the championship."


    Ansel and Haas chimed in during the interview, sharing their perspectives on team dynamics and race strategies with Bahrain''s Grand Prix in sight. Luca remained in the background, not part of the main interview that was held at the table, but a few questions were thrown at him and Mr. Moritz in the other room.


    Fans were present in the venue, and their presence surely depicted that their teams were in attendance. Two other German teams in F2 had attended the day''s meeting in Kreuzberg, the venue hosted in the Tempodrom. Trampos Racing were obliged to meet up with them and foster that comradeship amongst themselves. Luca was glad that the other teams were bottom table teams, meaning Trampos Racing were basically the pride of Germany in F2, and maybe in all divisions. Luca wasn''t sure if he could even recall a German F1 team.


    The interview came to an end, and the teams began to leave the lobby. The fans outside waved eagerly to get glimpses of Luca and Ansel, red, black and white crowding the area. Luca couldn''t believe this many people actually turned out to see them, and also spent their weekends on race weeks watching motorsport.


    Ansel took the lead and acknowledged the fans in a casual but firm manner, humbly taking pictures with them and signing autographs. Luca followed suit, many younger fans rushing to him. Fortunately, the barricade and the security did a good job to prevent direct physical contact with Luca.


    "Would you race next Saturday?!" One young girl asked as Luca ducked in for a selfie. She was blonde with a red Trampos bow on her head, a red t-shirt that clearly brandished Luca''s Dallara with his 21.


    "No, I''m afraid not," Luca replied with a soft smile. "Would you like me to race?"


    "Ja!" Another boy screamed with enthusiasm.


    "Don''t worry, this is all for the team. I''ll race in the next round after that. Make sure you''ll be there, okay?" Luca said, waving to others behind the kids. "Where''d it be hosted? I hope it isn''t far, I would like to see your faces in the stands."


    "In London," a young teenager said with a shrug, and others confirmed. "It isn''t that far."


    London? Luca asked inwardly, the name of the familiar city resonating within him like an echo. Luca grimaced and blinked while nodding thoughtfully. "That''s perfect," he finally muttered as he took more pictures with them, greeting people of varying ages.


    The British Grand Prix is right after Bahrain''s?! That''s wonderful! Luca had no idea this was what the season''s calendar had for him. The thought of having the chance to meet his mother and sister instantly dawned on him, and Luca couldn''t hold back his excitement, channeling his smile to the fans.


    After a while of mingling with the fans, Luca finally noticed Ansel folding his arms with a look of impatience etched on his face. The rest of the team stood nearby, glancing at their watches and shifting from foot to foot, clearly ready to get back to their preparations and schedule. Luca had to cease the glory and return to the team. Cheers filled the air, the fans waving them goodbye as they boarded the bus.


    "You''re having fun with your little fan club?" Ansel sneered. "They got too fond of you so quickly."


    Luca grinned as he settled into his seat, the bus rumbling with life with their HQ their destination once again. Resuming the week''s heavy schedule was the major objective. "I think so. I was just soaking in the moment," he replied, glancing at the window where the people were still standing, watching them leave. "You won''t believe where we have next."


    "The UK?" Ansel said. "I remember you saying you''d lived there..."


    "Yup!" Luca responded, his excitement bubbling up. "I might get to see my mother again."


    Ansel nodded softly, shifting his concentration to his phone. Luca followed suit and had to pull out his own phone from his pocket, the stagger of the bus making the action quite difficult.


    Finally unveiling the device, Luca wanted to check for the details himself to be truly sure England was their next destination after Bahrain. Opening the F1 application, there were the details he was searching for.


    British Grand Prix


    Location: London, England S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Date: May 10


    Track: Stadhaven Circuit


    Luca''s heart skipped a beat. Stadhaven Circuit?! The very same circuit where it all started for him? It would host the sixth round of the championship!


    Luca''s eyes remained wide open as he slowly pressed the power button, and the screen flickered off, revealing his surprised reflection.


    He would finally be behind the wheel for an F2 race, and Stadhaven would be the circuit hosting that race. He calmly digested the surreal information, knowing nothing was as better as the fact that he would lay eyes on his mother and sister again.


    Luca changed his surprise to a smile, his mind reeling as the bus came to a stop in the HQ and the team disembarked. This would surely mean that his mother would get to watch him race in Stadhaven, further giving him the drive to win!


    But first, Bahrain was in sight, and the team had a hurdle to overcome. Trampos Racing went to work for the mere 2 hours left for the day, yet it was enough to cover significant ground.


    [Ding!] went Luca''s System after another day, rewarding him with [Strength +1], taking that attribute to 17. Now, Luca''s Attributes had garnered these values.


    [Strength: 17


    Stamina: 22


    Endurance: 22


    Agility: 18


    Intelligence: 18 ]


    He believed there was still work to be done before he entered the main division, Formula 1, where the competition was much more difficult than Formula 2.


    The fifth round of the championship came around, and the team boarded their equipment, vehicles and personnel to the country of Bahrain. The small island country in the Persian Gulf, didn''t really have a rich history for motorsport. The Bahrain International Circuit was just constructed some years back, and the nation was slowly becoming a permanent entity for motosport.


    Luca found the country strikingly similar to Dubai, perhaps due to its Arabian nature and modernity. In the capital of Manama, the team had access to a remarkable training facility that boasted state-of-the-art equipment. Mr. Grant made excellent use of these resources, emphasizing all attributes during their practice sessions.


    The host racetrack had high-speed straights and challenging corners, Ansel and Haas had been informed beforehand, and their drills were meticulously designed to help them acclimate to the circuit''s demands. They focused on honing their braking techniques and perfecting their cornering strategies, all while monitoring telemetry data to fine-tune their performance. Each session came with daunting press interviews afterwards as the team and other teams sharpened themselves for Saturday.

 Chapter 75 Fourth Place Equals Frustration

    Race Day: April. 22, Bahrain International Circuit, Manama, Bahrain.The race began at 12:30 pm. The weather above the Circuit was deemed perfect for the day''s event. The sun shone brightly, casting clear skies with minimal cloud cover, bringing about warm temperatures hovering around 77¨C86¡ãF. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A light breeze brushed through the stands, serving as a backdrop to the commentator''s resonating words. Visibility was excellent, favoring both drivers and spectators thanks to the ideal atmospheric conditions. Even the structure of the circuit was magnificent, mirroring the modernity of the training facilities where the teams had practiced. The asphalt was pristine, bordered by fine grass beyond the bright red and white tracks. The grandstands featured exquisite roofs, providing fans with shelter from the sun and a welcoming shade as the single-seaters zoomed past, navigating the 44-lap race.


    Sitting in the paddock seats once again were Luca, Victor, and other non-driving team members, their legs tense and ready to leap in celebration at any overtake Ansel might manage against the top rivals.


    The race progressed, and Luca was so far satisfied with the current results¡ªat least where Ansel was concerned. Haas remained a setback, with P8 being his best position so far. Ansel, however, was pushing hard for P2, putting on an impressive display that forced the Bahrain crowd to cheer.


    Luca leaned in, absorbing every detail of the race as it slowly approached its peak. He noticed that some drivers, especially Addams and Aaronson, were flaunting moves he recognized from last season''s races. Luca wasn''t sure if it was because those clips were still fresh in his memory, but he found their strategies strikingly easy to read once he focused on subtle shifts in their chassis movements.


    Even Ansel was repeating the same in-out-lane maneuver all over again, trying to pass Addams on the inside of the track before cutting to the outside. This move would ideally set him up in the middle of the racing line¡ªa textbook overtake in anyone''s opinion. But Addams, as strong as ever, was an expert at defending his position. Although Ansel briefly claimed P2, the leaderboard consistently displayed Addams'' name in the second spot. Meanwhile, Aaronson was cruising up front, seemingly poised to win the Bahrain Grand Prix as well.


    However, by the 20th lap, the track became heated, and all the team paddocks had their members on their feet. The congestion was intense: Addams was closing the gap to Aaronson while his teammate, Walding, surged to P6, overtaking Volyinski to position himself just behind Derstappen in a fierce battle. The clash extended to Kristensen, resulting in three single-seaters bottlenecked at the chicane until Walding emerged in P4, with Kristensen following close behind.


    Luca''s concern shifted to Ansel, whose Trampos-colored car was alone in the leading pack, just a few seconds ahead of the ever-hungry Miles Bellingham. The 30th lap forced Ansel into a pit stop, his car barreling down the pit lane.


    He had to get back into the race as quickly as possible, and the pitstop didn''t look like it would make his race any better.


    "...ohh, and it''s slow. It''s a slow one. Hahn would wish for better as he gets back into it... but Bellingham is on that DRS; he''s gonna fuel that frustration!"


    Luca gripped his hair as the roar of Miles''s engine seemed to crawl over his body, making him feel as if he were Ansel. He couldn''t help but wonder how Ansel felt at that moment. The pitstop took a nail-biting 4.9 seconds, and Ansel could only try to cut back. But with Miles''s momentum, Trampos dropped to P4.


    The whole paddock cursed as Squadra Corse fans leaped to their feet in jubilation. Their new star was fulfilling the hopes they had placed on him. With Derstappen out of form, Miles Bellingham had restored the renowned team to its former heights.


    "...Bellingham makes the exit, right behind BV, and Hahn can''t keep up with that momentum. The 40th lap begins, and Trampos Racing loses sight of the podium...!"


    "...poor, poor, poor. Even P4 doesn''t look secure for him. Walding is closing in, and with the sheer determination the 20-year-old has shown all season for his team, it''s only a matter of time before he makes a move..."


    Mr. Grant could only remain silent in his viewing post as he observed the race intently, speaking with his assistants occasionally. For him, he had wanted to groom Luca to become the bedrock and pillar of Trampos Racing, where Luca would be the very powerhouse needed to gain the points on every GP. Mr. Grant was just realizing it now that Luca was already the pillar of Trampos Racing the moment he finished third in Bad Rauenburg. And now, the whole team have been aligned with his influence. The whole team, including Ansel.


    Mr. Grant remained silent as the leading pack approached the final sector, the crowd on their feet to give a deafening round of applause and cheers. Trampos Racing remained seated, hoping for a miracle to push Ansel''s car beyond P4. He had raced well today, but the odds were not in his favor.


    Ansel made a bold attempt on the inside, trying for a last-minute outpace. But Miles felt the pressure, kept his cool, and maintained his racing line. On the final straight, all the top cars had equal acceleration with DRS, pulling away from each other as the checkered flag waved to conclude the Bahrain Grand Prix.


    "...with an incredible finish to the race, Aaronson claims first in the championship for the second race in a row! Addams taking second with Miles Bellingham making P3 for Squadra Corse Jnr...!"


    "...Ansel Hahn gave it his all, you can see the disappointment, but he raced valiantly, keeping Trampos Racing in the fight. He''ll take valuable lessons from this race as he looks ahead..."


    The Trampos Racing garage remained quiet for a moment, letting the season''s theme song echo through the circuit as the crowd cheered for the drivers rolling to a calm stop. Seconds later, the team sprang into action. Luca rose to his feet, taking a deep breath to accept the results the commentators couldn''t stop analyzing. The leaderboard clearly displayed Ansel in 4th¡ªa final position they had hoped to avoid.


    Luca wondered how high Bueseno had climbed, considering Addams''s P2 and Walding''s P5. That combination would tally up a frightening score, putting Trampos''s lead in jeopardy.


    Hatcherk fans were free to celebrate like never before as Aaronson drove by, waving to them. Their second win in the championship was solidifying them as strong contenders, potentially even more than Squadra Corse, given the current standings. Luca began setting up those he would look out for in London, keeping the teams'' points in mind. In a situation, he could let Volyinski or Kristensen, Retona''s drivers outpace him just for him to keep hold of the real rivals with threatening points.


    Weaving through the crowded garage, Luca felt an intense desire to analyze the telemetry data again. Ansel had clearly raced better today than in Azerbaijan, but the competition had been far too fierce. Luca wanted to see if the computers could reveal details invisible to the naked eye.


    Arriving at the telemetry room, he found Mr. Grant already present, surrounded by Trampos staff, all clad in their red uniforms. Locking gazes with Mr. Grant, Luca could sense the man''s unspoken demand: to get back on the track and help Trampos win a Grand Prix again!

 Chapter 76 Spring Air 2

    The Formula 1 season schedule grew tougher and more congested than ever as the championship approached the sixth round and midseason. This tight itinerary gave all F1 and F2 teams relatively just a one-week gap between the Bahrain and British Grands Prix.And with tighter schedules came tighter and denser training drills. The team had just landed in Fulham, London after a two-day airline delay caused by heavy rainfall and thunderstorms. The spring season was at its peak just as the new month of May unfolded, offering fresh opportunities for corrections and improvements before the latter half of the year.


    Stepping out of the bus to their designated training facility before the upcoming race on Saturday, Luca paused for a moment to savor the cool, crisp air. Overhead, the sky was a muted gray, casting a soft, almost melancholic light across the city. The faint scent of rain lingered, mingling with the earthy aroma of blooming flowers. The streets were alive with the hum of traffic and the distant chatter of pedestrians, creating a backdrop that was uniquely... London.


    Luca removed his headset and hung it around his neck, sighing deeply as the team exited the bus in an organized line to their shuttle, like soldiers preparing for battle. His gaze swept the surroundings. It was obvious that it had rained earlier today as everyone except them had umbrellas with them.


    FAF Performance Centre, Luca muttered inwardly as he stared at the bill hung on the facility. He had never heard of it. Much likely because he didn''t live in this part of London. Even at that, Luca had expected to meet this city with some sense of familiarity. He had thought nostalgia would wash over him, his body tickling with anything that reminded him of the memorable past.


    Surprisingly to Luca, London just felt like the other four cities around the world he had traveled to. There was no igniting spark of recognition, and it seemed like any other city labeled under the Formula 1 calendar.


    "Make sure not to get too hydrated, you''d use the bathroom much more than you planned!" A tall staff member with a clipboard voiced loudly. "And also layer up any chance you get. It''s very chilly in every corner, especially at the simulators." S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mr. Moritz clapped his hands loudly, the sound resonating as filler bottles were handed out to everyone. "Well, welcome to us! Let''s stay sharp, focused and build up that energy again. We rule London by Saturday!" He hollered, leaning to a technician to listen closely to whatever was being discussed.


    Luca felt the cold through his sneakers, gripping his bag tightly as he awaited further instructions. Ansel, Haas, and Victor stood close to him, surrounded by other crew members they were fond of.


    After a brief round of instructions, the team was directed further inside, where full-scale training could commence. The track was as conventional as ever, with a calm, focused atmosphere perfect for concentration.


    Trampos Racing got to work.


    After a series of quick physical drills, the arrival of the machinery truck signaled the start of preparations. The team assembled the cars, fine-tuning them for optimal performance. Soon, all four Trampos drivers donned their racing suits as the single-seaters were rolled out for them onto the track.


    Within minutes, they were zipping around the facility at a safe speed, carefully warming up the engines and tires while sharpening their focus and reflexes. After a few warm-up laps, Mr. Grant and his assistants gathered the team¡ªLuca and Ansel¡ªto discuss their major race strategy. Mr. Grant emphasized that they would adopt a strategy similar to what had led to their victory in Monaco, with slight modifications for the unique challenges ahead. He expected Ansel not to hold his line but to drive aggressively and aim for a podium finish, preferably P1.


    "Stadhaven is a new circuit for us," Mr. Grant explained. "We haven''t raced on this track yet, so we can only speculate about its challenges. However, we sent representatives to survey the layout, and their feedback indicates that it''s quite balanced."


    He paused to pull up a tablet, revealing aerial images of the well-structured track. "The layout is a 50:50 in terms of challenge¡ªoffering both tight corners and long straights. This balance makes it suitable for various racing strategies, allowing for overtaking opportunities while also testing our skill in maneuvering through the tighter sections. The surface appears to have good grip, which should benefit us during the race."


    Luca''s eyes scanned the familiar circuit. Stadhaven was nice, no doubt. It had this perfect layout to the sun, making the grass and the track glitter naturally. The aerial photos with empty grandstands even brought out the deep beauty of the track¡ªthe curves and straights. Stadhaven was really 50:50.


    "Overall, the track seems fair," Mr. Moritz continued from where Mr. Grant stopped. "If we keep our speed and turns correct, I see a strong result for us. C''mon."


    Luca took a deep breath as he spun around to face his car. His eyes caught Ansel''s inward grumble¡ªa clear sign of unhappiness¡ªand Luca had seen a lot of it ever since Bahrain. Luca understood Ansel''s frustration, and if he were to be honest, he''d be unhappy too. Ansel had looked like he would be in wonderful form just after Australia, where he claimed his first P1 of the season, with Monaco making it his second, only for him to drop back in the following races.


    Putting on his helmet, Luca let his System flicker to life, the words [SYSTEM ONLINE...] briefly displayed on the screen before another assessment of the Dallara before him took place.


    Mr. Grant stood by Luca''s single-seater once he entered, the engine rumbling deeply beneath him. Luca turned to see his Team Principal glaring down at him, clearly ready for a brief conversation¡ªwithout the radio. Quickly, he slotted up his helmet''s visor as Mr. Grant leaned on the chassis.


    "You''re well aware we do not owe Haas any more races?" Mr. Grant began, and Luca nodded.


    "Good. So that means you have all Featured Races to you and your pal there, and I want the both of you to cook up a chemistry that has never been seen before. Do you get me?"


    "Yes, sir."


    "It''s Trampos''s season. We started glamorously; we must finish with that same glamor. Do you get me?"


    "Yes, sir."


    Mr. Grant nodded, giving his vibrating car a nice, supportive tap. "Alright then. Drive away, and keep your eyes open. I don''t want any contact with a rival," he said, glancing at Haas behind Luca. He made a quick signal, yelling, "Onward!"


    Luca shut his visor and focused on Ansel''s car just ahead, his mind reeling with many thoughts as they were set to fire away. Haas would work as an opponent and pose significant threats while Luca and Ansel practiced clean track hugging and effective use of straights.


    They were signaled to begin, and they all shot away, speeding up gradually.


    **What''s your status?** Mr. Moritz asked.


    Luca glanced around his System, and everything seemed fine. Realizing the tone of Moritz''s voice, Luca chuckled. The question was not about his car. "I''m good, powered up in fact," he replied.


    **Good. Good. Let''s fly**


    ---------------------------------------


    After two wonderful days of training with a third to look out for, Luca was glad to see a notification for an attribute point.


    [Ding!]


    [Agility +1]


    With that increase, his Attributes had these values:


    [Strength: 17


    Stamina: 22


    Endurance: 22


    Agility: 19


    Intelligence: 18 ]


    Luca was excited because the System had assured him that once all Attributes reached the 20 mark, a new Skill would be unlocked and made available for his use, thereby increasing his chances of winning more races. Similarly, when the Attributes all reached the 30 mark, another Skill would be unlocked, then again at the 40 mark, and so on.


    Taking a look at his Skills & Techniques section on the screen display, Luca was also eager to max out Reflexes and Track Awareness. Maxing out each Skill individually, not collectively, to 20 would also unlock one additional Skill for Luca.


    [Reflexes: 19


    Overtaking Skill: 20


    Track Awareness: 18


    Pitstop Prodigy: 5


    Corner Chopping: 4


    Straightaway Chopping:3


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    Alright, Luca. I''ll play my cards well, he said to himself as he entered the chill-out section of the facility. The atmosphere was chilly, but Luca felt warm after spending minutes in the cockpit of an overheating beast of a machine.


    He instinctively sat down on a bench fixed to the wall, dismissing the System interface before pulling his phone out of his bag. Luca was determined to analyze what he was up against in Stadhaven and plan how to react to each rival.


    He swiped his phone to unlock it, greeted by hundreds of unread messages piling in. Luca had no time to respond to them all or even check who had messaged him. He had pinned chats from Sara, Amir, Mallow, and Mr. Fisher for quick access. With practiced efficiency, he replied to each of them swiftly, ensuring everything was on track without any major delays. Skipping over the other messages, Luca opened the F1 application.


    The fact that Aaronson had won two Grand Prix races in a row gnawed at him. Even Walding must have racked up plenty of points with consistent finishes near the podium. There was no denying it that Trampos''s lead was under threat.


    To confirm, Luca scrolled to the team standings and reviewed the rankings for himself.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    --------------------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 142


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 126


    3. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 90


    4. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 75


    5. | Retona Racing | 22


    Luca let out a sigh of relief, though there was a subtle hint of cynicism. Trampos still held the lead, which spoke volumes about the massive gap they had built earlier. But with Bueseno also in triple figures and clawing closer, one more poor race from Trampos could hand them the lead.


    Luca wouldn''t let that happen. This was competition at its finest, and he swore to come out victorious.


    Ansel''s familiar footsteps echoed into the chill-out section, drawing Luca''s attention away from his phone. Ansel looked despondent as he passed by to grab his water bottle. His usual stoic demeanor now carried a noticeable somberness.


    "You were pretty fast today, I''m not gonna lie," Luca remarked, hoping to spark that electricity once again. "You think you can do the same on Saturday?"


    Ansel chuckled softly, a deep breath escaping his lips. He dabbed at his neck with his towel and gripped the strap of his bag, clearly ready to call it a day. "We can only try our best," he said before walking toward the door. But he stopped before Luca, raising a brow. "You said you''d like to meet your family when you got here. You haven''t yet, have you?"


    "Nope, not yet."


    "When will you? After the race?"


    "Yup," Luca replied, switching off his phone. "I don''t want anything distracting me beforehand. For now, it''s focus. Sunday will be the perfect time to meet them."


    Ansel smiled warmly, offering Luca a hand. Luca quickly accepted, grasping Ansel''s strong grip as their muscles tensed. With a grunt, Luca was pulled to his feet and he dusted off his pants.


    Picking up his bag, the two left the chill-out section together and retired for the day.

 Chapter 77 Return To Stadhaven

    Race Day: May 10, Stadhaven Circuit, London, England.Stadhaven lay just on the edge of the city, and all teams arrived on time for preparations, setting up, media engagements, listing, and briefing. As dynamic as the city of London was, the circuit and its surrounding venues were already crowded with people even before the start of the Sprint Race. Whether Formula 1 or Formula 2, the thrill of the sport was the same for them, and these spectators were here to savor every moment.


    Trampos Racing rolled in just after 11:30, their sleek transport trailing behind Retona''s distinctive violet buses. Luca looked around, his eyes scanning every detail he could recall from his few visits to this place.


    Stadhaven was unique, with buildings and surrounding organized structures not typically seen at regular circuits. It felt as though the venue served multiple purposes, with motorsport racing as its primary function. Luca secretly admired the setup; it gave true purpose to a sports venue, with hundreds of traffic personnel managing the area. Maybe it is just London''s style, he thought, as their transport came to a halt.


    The cheers of fans scattered around the circuit''s outskirts erupted in claps as they disembarked. Security promptly welcomed them, leading them into a safe lane previously used by Retona''s crew. The safe lane was a slanting pavement cleared of fans to allow teams to enter the circuit safely through a tunnel that branched off into different sections and facilities.


    Luca chuckled as he remembered walking this same path behind a security guard a few months ago, only to meet Sara, the then-secretary. He wondered what Mr. Mallow and Sara might feel, or have in their minds, as they returned to London and Stadhaven.


    "Could we just move this way, please?" a marshal urged, his voice cutting through the din. The team obeyed, navigating through the throng and entering the tunnel, where the atmosphere shifted. The cacophony of excited fans faded to a low hum, replaced by the rhythmic thud of their footsteps on the smooth concrete. Luca stayed close to Ansel and McCauley as they were guided deeper into the venue, Trampos Racing trailing behind Retona.


    Moments later, their progress was abruptly halted. A pair of security guards stood at the far end of the tunnel, gesturing for both teams to pause. "A minor issue," they explained, needing a moment to clear the area. Stadhaven, it seemed, was even more crowded inside than Luca had imagined it would be. After all, this was the circuit''s first official race in the championship.


    Both teams were required to wait in the tunnel while the issue was resolved as quickly as possible. The bright white light from the ceiling reflected off the vivid red of Trampos Racing''s uniforms and the deep violet of Retona''s. The two teams clung to opposite sides of the tunnel, their body language rigid as they waited in silence.


    Luca couldn''t help but glance in Retona''s direction, mostly to get a closer look at Oliver Kristensen, their main driver, with Vlad Volyinski just behind him, leaning casually against the wall. Kristensen was a lean, tall bloke with sideburns and deep brown hair. At 21 years old, he was Norwegian by nationality. Luca admired Kristensen''s personality, which radiated a mature calmness and good sportsmanship.


    He leaned back against the cool wall, taking in every second of the tension between the teams. The delay seemed to stretch on for an eternity, though it lasted just a few minutes. Even so, some members of both teams began showing signs of irritation, shuffling their feet and casting side glances at each other.


    If Luca''s memory was correct, Retona currently had 22 points in the standings, compared to Trampos'' 142. They were not the rivals Trampos needed to worry about this season, so Luca didn''t regard them as a serious threat. Surprisingly, the rest of the Trampos team did. He''d learned that Retona had once been Trampos'' fiercest rivals at midtable. Back when junior teams like Squadra Corse, Bueseno Velocit¨¤, and Nevada HanSama dominated the division, with Hatcherk close behind, Retona and Trampos were neck-and-neck, battling to break into the top five.


    The marshals eventually returned, bringing the news they had been waiting for. Both teams were now allowed to proceed, with Retona retaking the lead.


    More figures entered the tunnel, their shadows stretching across the floor, and Luca could hear murmurs of welcoming. Mr. Grant, who had been lingering at the back, strode quickly to the front and extended his hand for a handshake with a certain man surrounded by others who seemed subordinate to him. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Welcome. I hope your team does well," the man said, gripping Mr. Grant''s hand firmly.


    "Thank you. And thank you for this excellent facility," Mr. Grant replied, breaking the handshake before returning to the team. Each member of the Trampos crew took turns shaking hands with the welcomers, and Luca instantly recognized the man.


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    I almost forgot about this man. Wow, Luca thought inwardly as he approached Mr. Vance for a handshake. So, he''s still managing this place. Good for him.


    "Welcome. I hope your team does well," Mr. Vance repeated the same phrase as he shook Ansel''s hand before turning to Luca. But as soon as Mr. Vance''s eyes landed on him, he froze, his fake smile morphing into a confused frown.


    Aren''t you the one who signed me to Trampos? Why are you stunned?


    Luca quickly extended his hand, eager to get to the team''s paddock and kick off preparations. But Mr. Vance, seemingly too stunned, just stared at him without reacting.


    Luca withdrew his hand and walked away toward Trampos''s paddock and garage, the crowd''s cheers growing louder as he emerged from the tunnel. I''ll give you more reasons to be stunned when I win today, he thought.


    Pausing briefly, he took a second to take in the sight, the landscape of Stadhaven as his eyes searched for the particular spot where Antonio Luigi''s car had hit him. His gaze swept over the already filled grandstands and the track adorned with Formula 1 sponsor logos before landing on the exact spot. Though it was far away, he recognized it instantly.


    "Luca!"


    He turned to see McCauley waving for him. Without hesitation, he jogged toward the garage, now a hive of activity. Adrenaline coursed through him, his anticipation rising. He was ready to get back on the track and burn his tires to victory.

 Chapter 78 Return To Stadhaven 2

    The tension in the pit was thick with anticipation, though a muted, drizzly gray still hung in the air despite the creeping noon. Luca sat on a bench in the Trampos Racing garage, head tilted back, his gaze on the ceiling as he listened to the steady thrum of heavy metal in his ears¡ªa personal ritual to settle his nerves. But his focus was broken when a teammate leaned over, breaking into his solitude."You''ve got 33% backing you today, Luca. They''ve put your name at the top of their list," the crew member urged, his voice somewhere between motivation and pleading. "If you can''t win it for anything, win it for us. That 33% aren''t clueless¡ªthey know why they put their money on you."


    Luca gave a crooked smile, the hint of a smirk. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, McCauley interrupted from behind, shoving the over-eager crew member aside with a scoff.


    "Quit telling him that crap," McCauley voiced, scowling at the funny crew member before turning his attention to Luca. Luca''s smile widened with amusement as if he was holding back laughter.


    "You think you can finish top five at least? Starting at P8 with such competition is a difficult thing, and we need at least two-figure points from you and Ansel to stay at the top," McCauley said. "So, can you?"


    "Yes, I will. Podium might prove difficult, but I assure you, I won''t finish below P5," Luca replied. "There''s nothing for you to worry about though."


    McCauley''s scowl softened, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he rubbed his gloved hands together against the chill to grant himself some warmth. "Good to hear it straight from you." He looked past Luca, toward the paddock where the grandstands buzzed with a steady hum of spectators. The morning''s sprint race had set a high bar for the team, with Ansel dominating from pole position to take P1, while Haas secured P4, missing a top-three finish by mere seconds.


    It was a good result, but once again, Luca wasn''t satisfied. Just like before, the top teams had put in their reserves to participate in the Sprint Race, and not their main drivers, which was less competition for Ansel. Luca still congratulated him and urged him to perform even more as the main event for the day approached rapidly.


    "How long until lights out?" Luca asked, dropping his gaze to McCauley.


    McCauley paused in the doorway, his brow quirking as he glanced at his watch. "About an hour," he replied, glancing out toward the murky sky. "This weather makes it feel like we''re in a waiting room, right?"


    Luca chuckled, running a hand over his face. "Yeah, feels like I''ve been sitting here forever."


    McCauley glanced back with a knowing nod. "Let''s see if I could get you a set of grid lights set up so you can keep your reflexes sharp until Ansel''s back."


    "Sounds good," Luca replied, eager to shake off the dull lull. His fingers flexed in anticipation as he set down his headset, already visualizing the starting lights.


    Ansel entered a few moments later, greeting Luca before settling quietly onto the bench adjacent to Luca''s. He remained quiet, leaning in to interlock his fingers as he gazed endlessly at the floor.


    Luca had learnt this was Ansel''s way of preparing for a race¨Cby being quiet and concentrating at a random spot, his cold eyes focused intently on nothing in particular. Today, though, there was something more intense in his gaze; his eyes were sharper, almost icy, and the only part of his face visible beneath the black balaclava that masked his nose and mouth. He was half-dressed, clad only in a fitted vest, compression sleeves and boots.


    Luca, on the other hand, had only his vest and boots on. He wanted to speak to Ansel, but McCauley and a few other crew members slipped in, their presence noisy and crowded.


    "Forty minutes left till lights out, gentlemen," McCauley announced, striding over to Luca with a tablet in his possession. "Let''s run through quickly. Gaffer will be here anytime soon."


    Ansel didn''t bother to look up, his ritual never disrupted by anyone if not Mr. Grant. Luca sat up right and accepted the tablet, tapping its screen as it flickered to life. The same setup from all light reaction drills he had practiced, and Luca was getting good at it.


    He focused intently, going through session after session as a few crew members gathered nearby, watching his progress with growing excitement. At the end of his 55th session, Luca exhaled deeply, his fingers lifting from the screen as the crew cheered. An impressive 84% accuracy across so many rounds. It was no small feat.


    Luca stood up, blinking hard as he rubbed his eyes, which ached from the constant focus. The grid lights still seemed to flash in his vision like an afterimage that lingered even as he looked away. He blinked rapidly, then shook his head clear and strode over to where his racing suit lay folded, ready.


    Ansel rose as well, his quiet moment finally over. The hum of the crowd''s cheers and the commentary echoed from the screens and speakers around them. The announcer''s voice grew louder, welcoming spectators and detailing the season''s highlights so far as they approached midseason.


    Both young drivers slipped into their suits, the fabric hugging their bodies like a second skin. The bold white letters of ''Trampos'' stretched across their chests, catching the room''s light and grounding them in the moment¡ªthis was the British Grand Prix, and everything they''d trained for was right ahead.


    Luca tugged on his balaclava, then his gloves, flexing his fingers to get a feel for the grip. From the corner of his eye, he studied Ansel, whose expression hovered somewhere between calm and fierce. He didn''t look happy nor sad, he had a face of determination, if Luca could call it that.


    Ansel noticed Luca''s scrutinizing gaze and chuckled beneath his head sock. "Is there something wrong?"


    Luca shrugged. "No, just... you look... too ready." Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ansel rolled his eyes, rubbing his wrists. "Aren''t we supposed to be? Besides, gaffer''s here." Find exclusive stories on empire


    Luca turned to see Mr. Grant and Mr. Moritz stepping into the room, their expressions as focused as ever.

 Chapter 79 Lights Out In Stadhaven

    Trampos Racing had both drivers starting from P4 and P8¡ªfairly solid positions for a team, yet with elite drivers ahead, breaking through would be difficult.Luca and Ansel were focused on executing the Dual Advance Strategy, where Luca, starting at P8, would adopt an aggressive approach. Ansel, holding P4, would maintain a steady pace, defending his lane against overtakes while scouting for opportunities to advance. The plan hinged on Luca creating chaos in the upper midfield, potentially unsettling the drivers ahead. This would allow Ansel to transition from passive to aggressive, capitalizing on the disruption to claim P3, P2, or even P1.


    In summary, Mr. Grant wanted Luca to be fierce out there, and Luca was more than happy to accept such an assignment.


    Both drivers emerged from the garage with their helmets firmly in hand. The roar of the circuit outside grew louder, accompanied by the steady shuffle of activity within the garage. The anticipation was palpable as the wait was over. It was time to launch the British Grand Prix. Ahead lay 45 grueling laps of Stadhaven, a race that carried significant weight for every driver and team in Formula 2, especially with points at stake before the season''s mid-break.


    "... Bueseno Velocit¨¤, 13, Max Addams, 67, Daniel Walding...!"


    "... Trampos Racing, 43, Ansel Hahn, 21, Luca Rennick...!"


    "... Hatcherk Motorsport, 33, Peter De Klerk, 09, Sean Aaronson...!"


    The announcer continued, his voice booming through the circuit speakers as he proclaimed the names of the drivers set to race. The roster was locked in; no changes could be made, and each driver announced was required to participate.


    When Hatcherk Motorsport''s drivers were named, a deafening wave of applause and cheers erupted from the grandstands, noticeably louder than for any other team. Luca immediately took note. Being an English team, Hatcherk''s overwhelming fan support was evident, and the crowd''s enthusiasm painted a clear picture.


    Curious, Luca stepped forward and peeked out from the garage, and his suspicions were confirmed. The grandstands were a vivid sea of Hatcherk''s signature orange as banners, hats, and flags waved furiously, transforming that section of the circuit into a wall of energy and color. Even the damp, dreary atmosphere couldn''t dull the vibrancy of the display.


    It had drizzled a little after the Sprint Race, dropping the temperature even lower and projecting a hazy sheen to the entire circuit. The dampness gave the track an almost reflective quality, with ambient lights casting a soft glow that shimmered against the slick asphalt. Some puddles had gathered, creating shattered patches along the track.


    Luca was thrilled to drive on such a layer of challenge. Racing in adverse weather was something he had practiced countless times in simulators, but now he had the chance to prove himself in reality


    He rushed back into the heart of the garage where the cars were ready. Ansel had his helmet on already, visor down, engrossed in conversation with the team''s lead engineer. Federation stewards moved around the garage, clipboards in hand, conducting their routine pre-race inspections. The Trampos crew gave them space, ensuring everything complied with regulations.


    Luca pulled on his own helmet and adjusted the straps, securing it tightly. The garage promptly narrowed to the visible field of his visors and his mind focused. Okay, Luca said inwardly, taking in a deep breath of the helmet''s interior scent. He gave a quick thumbs-up to a female crew member who approached him with a tablet, reviewing his own telemetry. The team had just adjusted his brake bias and tire pressures to adapt to the damp track, adding grip for the challenging atmospheric conditions ahead.


    "You''re spearheading today?" She asked as Luca nodded his head to the info.


    He transitioned his nod to answer her question. "Yes. Han will play off whatever chaos I manage to stir," he replied.


    "Alright, then," she said, taking her gaze around. "Can we make sure Luca''s well suited?"


    Before he could protest, several crew members surrounded him, making final adjustments to his suit. They checked for every detail¡ªtugging at seams, smoothing folds, ensuring he was perfectly fitted. Luca sighed, glancing around as the announcer''s voice echoed once more through Stadhaven, signaling the time to race was drawing near.


    Mr. Grant had already taken his place at his usual viewing post. He had nothing left to say to his drivers as victory was the only thing that mattered now. The garage gradually emptied as the team crew made their way to the paddock, leaving only the main engineers and mechanics behind to assist Luca and Ansel into their cockpits.


    Haas walked past Luca, giving him a firm tap on the shoulder and locking eyes with him through his visor. "Please, just help get our lead gap back," he muttered before heading to the paddock without waiting for a reply. Luca was left momentarily stunned, unsure how to respond.


    "...And a warm welcome to our guest of honor today, Sir Anthony Crowley, the Secretary of State for Digital, Culture, Media, and Sport, joining us to witness the excitement of the Formula 2 British Grand Prix..!" S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As he waited for Ansel, Luca allowed himself a brief moment to study the two single-seaters in front of him, poised in anticipation. The sleek machines gleamed under the garage lights, ready for action. His System confirmed they were prepared, leaving Luca no doubts about their performance.


    Ansel soon jogged over, nudging Luca hard in the side. It was a sign of ''let''s begin'', and Luca took it very well. Together, they moved toward the cars, which had been rolled to the mouth of the garage. As Luca followed Ansel into the cockpit, the cheers from the Stadhaven grandstands reached a fever pitch. The sight of all thirty cars emerging from their team garages created a thrilling atmosphere that electrified the cool air.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Dallara (F2 04)]


    "... It''s a cool, breezy day at 62 degrees Fahrenheit here at Stadhaven, London! Good afternoon to everyone tuning in across the world, and welcome to the Formula 2 British Grand Prix!"


    "...The cars are rolling onto the grid as we inch closer to lights out. Sean Aaronson sits on pole, Max Addams in P2, and Bellingham at P3. Can Aaronson convert his pole position into another victory on this magnificent, fresh circuit? A win would boost Hatcherk''s points total but still won''t be enough to edge them past Velocit¨¤ Jnr for second."


    "...And as for our current leaders, Trampos Racing, this race will be pivotal in determining their fate by midseason. With a narrow 16-point lead over Velocit¨¤ Jnr, they must maximize every opportunity¡ªnot just to get one driver to the front but both if they want to regain their dominant lead."


    "... Certainly. Ansel Hahn starts at P4, Dani Walding at P5, Oliver Kristensen at P6, Albert Derstappen at P7, and Luca Rennick at P8. With everyone now on the grid, all eyes are on the lights as we prepare for an epic race¡­"


    **We''ll be with you every second. Just focus on your driving. And please watch the curbs, they''ll be slick from the drizzle**


    "Aye, sir," Luca replied, his voice steady despite the tension. Inside the cockpit, the heat was an almost suffocating contrast to the cold, damp atmosphere outside. His eyes sharpened behind his visor, locking onto Derstappen''s car positioned beside him on the inside of row 8. As the wet track stretched out ahead, Luca''s System provided detailed analytics, aiding him in plotting potential routes for a perfect start.


    Luca had this clawing feeling that the upper midfield might give him more issues than Mr. Grant anticipated. Volyinski was right behind him, with De Klerk following close. They weren''t elites but that didn''t mean they couldn''t seize opportunities to overtake.


    Luca''s gaze instinctively shifted to the gantry as the first red light illuminated, his SomberCore humming deeply, almost in anticipation. The second light flashed, followed by the third, as the crowd''s cheers at Stadhaven grew louder, refusing to yield to the tension building across the grid. Then came the fourth light, and the fifth.


    For a brief moment, Luca''s thoughts flickered to the people who would undoubtedly be watching this race. He knew many people in London he grew up with were before their TV screens, or even present in Stadhaven at the moment.


    His mother and sister were surely watching.


    Even Mr. Vance, the jerk, was likely at his office, spectating from the comfort of his window.


    Luca had everything to prove in this British Grand Prix. He wasted no time accelerating from 0km/h to an alarming 90 km/h once all five lights disappeared.


    The grid exploded with the deafening roar of engines, tires screeching violently against the damp asphalt as thirty cars surged forward from their starting boxes.


    "...lights out! Aaronson gets a good getaway as Max Addams tucks in behind. Watch out for Ansel Hahn on the inside of Miles Bellingham, but Sean Aaronson comfortably through the first corner...!"


    [Endurance +1]


    Luca didn''t flinch as the 5g force slammed into him at launch. Instead, he harnessed the surge of momentum and acceleration, racing neck and neck with Derstappen for 1.1 seconds before slipping into 7th.


    [7th Position]


    It wasn''t an ideal position. The cluster of cars remained chaotic as the pack barreled toward the first curve¡ªa right-hander. Luca clung to the inside, calculating a move to squeeze past Kristensen while keeping an eye on Derstappen, who was eager to reclaim his lost ground.


    [Host is participating in an Official Race]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 88 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 118 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (Very Good) Continue your journey on empire


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 125 m


    -Time: 7 sec ]


    Turn 1. Turn 2. Turn 3.


    **P3** Ansel muttered along the turns.


    That''s good, Luca mused, though he doubted Ansel could hold it for long. He suspected the leaderboard would shuffle before stabilizing.


    The leading cars approached the first straight that cut right through Stadhaven. As a 6km circuit, the first and longest straight likely served as an equality lane. The curve aligned forward, and all drivers knew they could ease off the brake and go for the accelerator this time.


    Luca had smartly clung to the interior of the last turn¨Ca right-hander, knowing it would straighten to his favor to the inside lane. He deftly slipped in before Kristensen at the start of the straight. But Luca couldn''t easily adhere to swerve trajectory like he could to the system''s speed recommendation.


    [6th Position]


    [Overtaking +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    He cut into Kristensen, but with so much momentum, he edged too far and Kristensen was able to slip out from the right and reclaim P6 within mere seconds.


    [7th Position]


    Luca was forced to tuck in behind as they officially hit the straightaway. Engines revved with power, all cars surging forward with high speed on the wet track.


    His eyes widened as the leading cars¡ªincluding Kristensen''s¡ªblazed down the straight, their tires kicking up walls of spray. Sheets of water arched into the air, shimmering like silver banners unfurling in the rain. The puddles Kristensen tore through sent droplets flying, scattering like stars in Luca''s visor.


    Luca had no idea the drizzle had amounted a lot of water. He could only imagine the problems it would come with. For the spectators, it was more glory and entertainment, but for him and the other drivers, it was a harbinger of disaster.


    **Don''t let the spray blind you. Use your wipers if needed**

 Chapter 80 British Grand Prix

    The gap gave structure to the leaderboard, the cars holding definite positions as they barreled across the circuit, tires spraying water high into the air. It was a challenging moment for Luca, who struggled to gauge the right time to activate DRS. His System still managed to provide a detailed description of the track but failed to give precise information about Kristensen''s car ahead.Relying on his instincts and the rumble strips curving ahead, Luca quickly braced himself for the approaching bend. He cast a quick glance at his mirrors, noting how the sheets of water kicked up by his tires obstructed Derstappen''s view as well.


    [8th Position closing in]


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 65%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 80 km/h]


    The 65% traction didn''t look promising, and 80 km/h felt like too much of a drop in momentum. Still, Luca adhered to the recommendation, understanding that it was calibrated to help him and his Dallara adapt to the slick asphalt.


    [You have reduced speed]


    Luca''s tires skimmed over the curb as he clung to the inside line again. The cars had just left the wet straight, allowing visibility to clear up once more. Never relenting, as the team''s strategy demanded today, Luca remained focused on overtaking Kristensen''s violet Dallara.


    Kristensen, noticing Luca''s determination, edged closer to the curbs, attempting to block his line as they approached the bend''s bottleneck. However, he failed to notice Derstappen exploiting the open outside lane, executing a smooth drift to claim P6 as the left-hander transitioned into a right.


    [8th Position]


    "...and how about that from Albert Derstappen! A magnificent double overtake to edge closer to the top five¡­!"


    Damn you, Luca thought, directing the insult at Kristensen as the track''s transition brought them side by side. Derstappen''s black-and-golden Dallara fishtailed slightly after the aggressive maneuver, but it held steady.


    P7 was Luca''s as the lane curved in his favor. He poked ahead of Kristensen just enough to shift the leaderboard before tackling the final and bendiest curve.


    [7th Position]


    [760 meters Straightaway ahead]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 6th Position]


    [You are 2.5 seconds away, host.]


    Derstappen managed to hold firm through the bends as the cars weaved through the greenery before transitioning to a straight that led back to the grid.


    As soon as the straightaway opened, Luca saw his opportunity. The roar of engines filled the air as all cars hit full throttle.


    [DRS Engaged]


    His rear wing adjusted, granting him an extra burst of speed. He capitalized on Derstappen''s slipstream, an orange spark flashing briefly from Luca''s chassis as he surged forward. Luca glided past Derstappen''s right side, seamlessly moving ahead as he crossed the grid.


    [6th Position]


    [2nd lap]


    **Good one, mate. Nice racing, nice racing**


    [Overtaking +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    Turn 1 loomed ahead, and Luca navigated it with precision, adhering to the System''s speed and maneuverability recommendations. His focus shifted to the holographic number 5 hovering over Dani Walding''s blue Dallara at Turn 3. Though Walding was still far ahead, Luca knew that time, consistency, and calculated moves would close the gap.


    [9th lap]


    [Stamina +1]


    **Storm in Fulham. News is that it might come this way**


    "It''s a big problem, right?"


    **Of course. Get ahead early** Mr. Moritz switched to a dual communication channel with both Ansel and Luca. **Both of you. Get ahead early**


    Miles had reclaimed P3 from Ansel, and the two were locked in a fierce battle for dominance. Meanwhile, Luca was attempting another overtake on Walding, but the Bueseno driver maintained a better lane advantage through the turns. On the straights, Walding''s superior acceleration left him out of reach, even with Luca''s DRS engaged. This dynamic left Luca vulnerable to Kristensen, who had reclaimed P7 from Derstappen and was closing in fast.


    [13th lap]


    Just as Mr. Moritz had warned, the sky grew increasingly oppressive. Heavy storm clouds rolled in with startling speed, their charcoal shade casting deep shadows over the Stadhaven Circuit.


    "Fucking hell," Luca muttered, his eyes darting to the ominous horizon. A subtle growl of thunder reached his ears, and the wind began to whip through the circuit.


    **We''ll keep checking tire traction. Expect lower visibility and wet patches soon¡ªlight rain forecast in five minutes.**


    A ''Wet Weather Warning'' symbol flashed on the dashboard, prompting drivers to prepare for the inevitable slick conditions as they began the 15th lap.


    Some teams, like Trampos, debated pitting their drivers early, while others chose to gamble on the weather improving before the conditions became too hazardous.


    The threat of rain started to bother Luca, the challenge more fierce than what he was eager to participate in. He gripped his wheel tighter and sped through the wet straight, raising water in the process.


    "...the weather is anything but fair today, Jon, and so is the track. The storm clouds are practically breathing down on us here, and it might definitely start playing tricks on the drivers..."


    "..you''re absolutely right, Steve. Now, they''d have to second-guess their line, their speed, their braking points. Any misjudgment, especially in this weather, could spell disaster..."


    "...and with the rain looking like it''s just minutes away, we could see some teams scrambling to make those critical tire changes. But here''s the risk: you pit too early, you lose ground. Pit too late, and it''s a slippery mess out there. A gamble, no doubt..."


    [7th Position closing in]


    [Host has unlocked Skills to disclose an opponent.]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 88 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 118 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (Very Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 26000 m


    -Time: 19 min. 5 sec ]


    Luca''s instincts for Corner Chopping kicked in as he neared the bends, with Kristensen pressing him fiercely. Edging to the curbs, Luca braked just enough to align with the recommended speed, gliding toward the bend''s apex, marked by Walding''s earlier drifting tire marks.


    Kristensen followed Luca like a fly into the bend, and Luca was waiting for him as they emerged. With a low speed, Luca hooked abruptly, cutting off Kristensen''s building momentum. And as quickly as he braked, Luca accelerated, high but low enough to avoid a tire lock-up.


    Luca was able to Corner Chop Kristensen but not Derstappen. The Belgian lagging behind by a mere second had taken full advantage of the bend, outpaced Oliver Kristensen and was now side by side with Luca.


    The track shifted into a right-hander, seemingly giving Luca the advantage. Determined to maintain his position, Luca prepared for the turn. Yet, Derstappen proved fiercer than expected, his outside trajectory perfectly lined up with Dani Walding''s rear, his nose edging dangerously close to Luca''s line.


    Luca''s eyes flicked to his System''s display, instantly processing the data:


    [Trajectory Assessment: Right-hander advantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 7th Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 35% throttle; maintain inner apex trajectory. Anticipate 7th Position''s outside pressure.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 7th Position). Adjust for slight understeer at exit to regain position.]


    He is trying to do what Miles did to me in Australia, Luca thought, noticing the subtle shift in Derstappen''s chassis.


    The X trajectory was clear. Within milliseconds, Luca would either drop to P7 or face the consequences of a tire clip¡ªor something worse.


    He couldn''t risk either option. Decelerating to let Derstappen through would kill his momentum, and Kristensen wasn''t far behind. Stubborn and unwilling to lose P6, Luca made a split-second decision.


    He veered off track, into the grass, just as Derstappen''s nose cut into his line of sight.


    [Traction lost...]


    "...And Luca Rennick is off the track! But wait¡ªhe''s back on in seconds!"


    [Traction detected...]


    Luca''s tires wobbled as they tore across the uneven grass. The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and gasps as he rejoined the track, his unconventional maneuver cutting ahead of Walding''s blue Dallara.


    P5 was officially his. Walding, who had been frustratingly hard to overtake, was now behind him.


    But the roar from the stands wasn''t just for the boldness of Luca''s move¡ªit was for its illegality. The stewards immediately sprang into action, signaling a review of the maneuver that had just unfolded.


    [Reflexes +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    [15th lap]


    **Luca, you''ve been hit with a five-second penalty for going off track and gaining an advantage. We''re going to need to serve that at your next pit stop** sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca rolled his tongue in his mouth. He had been expecting Moritz''s voice to crackle through the radio, and it had.


    "Five seconds," he muttered, his tone half dismissive. Deep down, he felt no guilt. Derstappen had played dirty, and Luca had done what he had to prevent a contact that would end in Derst''s favor.


    But five seconds was no small punishment. It could mean the difference between holding onto P5 or slipping down the leaderboard. The thought made him sigh, but then his System chimed in with an alert as he speared through the wet track.


    [Ding![


    [Host has maxed Reflexes Skill!]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a Skill:


    -Spatial Awareness: 2 ]


    Luca''s mouth bent to a frown. "You could have given me something more dynamic and rare. I know what Spatial Awareness is, and I''m pretty sure I execute it in every race," Luca said.


    [Now host, you have unlocked the ability to increase its starting two-point value, so you can get better at it. Moreover, the more Skills, the better the chances of making Sync Buff in every race.]


    Hmmm.


    [Spatial Awareness is a Skill similar to Track Awareness]


    [Spatial Awareness is an intuitive maneuver that enhances host''s ability to perceive and navigate his surroundings on the track, allowing him to sense nearby vehicles and understand his space and lane. This skill slightly affects and improves host''s decision-making, helping host avoid collisions and execute overtakes effectively.]


    "Oh. Now you put it like this... it looks nice."


    **Box, Luca. Let''s serve that penalty**


    [Operational Status: 60%]


    Still holding P5 illegally at the 16th lap, Luca deftly edged to the side of the track, barrelling down to the pitlane.


    **Glide in steadily**


    The pit crew was ready. He rolled to a precise stop as McCauley raised his hand, signaling the penalty countdown.


    [Serving Penalty...5...4...3...2...1]


    [6th Position]


    Though it was 5 seconds, it felt like an eternity to Luca. He frowned as Dani Walding claimed back P5 while he waited in the pit box.


    The moment the 5-second timer hit zero, Trampos'' pit crew sprang into action. Tires were changed in a flash, and he could hear the faint chatter of the team as they adjusted the car.


    **You''re clear**


    [Penalty Served]


    Luca shot out of the pit box and sped down the pit lane just as Derstappen was barreling toward the same exit point. The world outside his cockpit blurred into streaks of color as he focused on the track ahead.


    [Trajectory Assessment: Intersecting Pitlane advantage. Line integrity at risk from 7th Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 80% throttle; maintain downforce. Anticipate 7th Position''s outside pressure.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 7th Position). Adjust for slight understeer at exit to regain position.]


    **Get in there, Luca!**


    Luca slipped back into the straight just before Derstappen''s nose, narrowly avoiding a collision as Derstappen swerved to correct. The both of them fought to regain traction, tires screeching before their engines got their cool.


    **Good timing**


    Continue reading on empire


    [You have successfully defended your position. Keep it up, host]


    [7th Position closing in]


    "You just know how to raise my BP," Luca said exasperatedly as he entered the turns, hoping Derstappen gets close enough to eat his Corner Chopping.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 200 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 106 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Very Good)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 32000 m


    -Time: 24 min. ]

 Chapter 81 British Grand Prix 2

    [20th lap][Corner Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    [You have successfully defended your position. Keep it up, host]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 1 second away, host.]


    "Daniel... fucking... Walding," Luca whispered playfully like a venom as he began the 20th lap. "Here I come. And you won''t pass me again."


    **Your status?**


    Luca blinked. It wasn''t Moritz this time, as Ansel''s distinct voice broke through the radio. "P6," Luca replied calmly. "You?"


    "P4," came Ansel''s blunt response.


    Luca knew which position Ansel was in, but he wanted to ask because Ansel had asked about it, and mostly because Luca wanted to catch the tone in Ansel''s voice and discern his current mood.


    It wasn''t good for sure.


    Intertwining between P3 and P4 with Miles Bellingham, time had brought Luca and Walding closer to Ansel as Miles edged farther, half a lap ahead.


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 80%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 185 km/h]


    Dani Walding clung bitterly to P5, his car hugging the line defensively, determined not to let Luca past as Luca closed down on him with every second. "It''s the second time he''s troubling me," Walding murmured into his own team''s radio. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    **He has fresh tires and a refuel. We expect nothing less, and we might let him have it** Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr''s team engineer replied.


    "What?!"


    **Box, Dani, box. Let''s get that car ready for the next laps**


    Dani Walding felt the urge to resist. He clenched his teeth, still gripping onto P5 with the tenacity of a man unwilling to surrender. "No way I''m letting him take this," he muttered, fingers tight on the wheel. He''d already had to fend Luca off once, and giving up now gnawed at his pride. But his team knew better.


    **Box, Dani, box. It''s for the long game. You''ve got to hold back for now. Max is at P2. Relax**


    After a frustrated pause, Walding reluctantly complied, but not without a final act of defiance. As he exited the turn, he lifted slightly off the throttle, slowing just enough to create a subtle roadblock for Luca.


    Luca, pushing hard, realized Walding''s maneuver only at the last second. His eyes narrowed as he veered left to avoid a collision, wrenching his wheel as Spatial Awareness surged within him, heightening his sense of every angle and approaching impact.


    [Spatial Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    Despite Luca''s evasive move, his Dallara''s chassis clipped Walding''s car, the impact sharp and sudden. The moment of contact reverberated through Luca''s frame as his vehicle jolted slightly, but his finely tuned suspension absorbed the shock with minimal disturbance. His car straightened immediately, hurtling toward the wet straight ahead.


    Walding wasn''t so lucky.


    The contact had unsettled his vehicle and shoved it off course. He was forced to brake hard to avoid a full spin-out, his tires spraying sheets of water onto Luca''s car that just surged ahead.


    [5th Position]


    [Overtaking +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]


    "...P5 for Luca Rennick after a physical contact on straight 3! He didn''t come out of nowhere; he''s been behind Dani Walding all this while, and once the chance opened, he just blasted through without thinking twice. Just look at the aftermath for Dani Walding..."


    The cameras shifted focus from Luca zooming down the straight to Dani Walding, who had long regained control and was now entering the pit lane to his team.


    **Luca, Race Control just issued a ten-second penalty for the contact with Walding. They''re calling it ''completely avoidable.** Moritz''s voice cracked through the radio in a solemn tone.


    Luca frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced at his side mirror to see clear asphalt behind him, Walding diverting into the pit lane. "How did that attract a penalty?! The gap was thin. It''s not my fault."


    **I know** Moritz responded to calm Luca down. He could only imagine what his drivers were experiencing out there. **They''re saying you were driving too aggressively and close to him, finally ending with an unsafe maneuver. We''ll have to push harder now to make up the coming gap**


    Luca cussed loudly in his head but responded with a sigh. "Fine," he replied, taking a deep breath and glancing at his delta from P4.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 3 seconds away, host.]


    The Dallara holding steady at P4 flashed brightly in Luca''s line of sight, its red, white, and black colors unmistakable. Trampos Racing. Luca had almost forgotten Ansel was the driver at P4¡ªnow, he was just behind him.


    **Currently, you''re three seconds behind Han. You''ve got to stretch the lead on P5 by at least seven seconds to offset the penalty.**


    Luca nodded softly as he began the 21st lap, Ansel''s car never leaving his sight as he edged closer. "I''d have to face him... right?"


    Mr. Moritz took a moment to respond, and Luca didn''t like the silence.


    **You have seconds to cancel seconds, Luca. And for now, Han is any other driver to you. Please, face off safely¡ªno risky maneuvers**


    Luca swallowed hard as the radio went silent, leaving him alone in the cramped, stifling heat of the cockpit. His eyes flicked to the display¡ª[4] glowed in bold green over the car ahead. The green color was a reminder it was his teammate, something he couldn''t just ignore.


    Taking a steadying breath, Luca tightened his grip on the wheel as the approaching turns loomed. He knew that if he wanted any shot at minimizing the penalty''s impact, he''d have to push forward¡ªnow.


    "I have a penalty hanging over me, man," he murmured, steadying his focus. "I can''t afford to lag behind. This is simply for survival... not for position."


    His foot pressed harder on the accelerator, ready to make his move.


    "...following a painfully slow pit stop, Dani Walding has rejoined the race, just managing to edge in front of Derstappen. And as for his assailant, Luca Rennick¡ªhe''s got that looming 10-second penalty hanging over him, which he''ll need to serve within the next five laps. But right now, Jon, it looks like there''s something else occupying his mind, doesn''t it...?"


    "...absolutely, Mike. For the first time this F2 season, we''re seeing teammates inching closer on the leaderboard, with both Trampos Racing drivers positioned at P4 and P5. Luca Rennick is right on Ansel''s tail, and he''s looking determined, no doubt about it. He knows he has limited time to make his move..."


    [Strength +1]


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 75%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 100 km/h]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 0.8 seconds away, host.]


    "...Luca Rennick has made it to just a fraction of a second off Hahn''s rear wing. He''s closing in fast as they round a corner. The Trampos cars have that section all to themselves... the tension is building as Luca Rennick is lining him on the inside line!"


    **Don''t think I don''t see you**


    Luca chuckled, nodding softly. He liked that Ansel acknowledged his threat, making this a healthy challenge for P4.


    Ansel''s Dallara had a fine trajectory deftly outlined by Luca''s System. He could almost guess Ansel''s intentions, and it was to squeeze him out with his rear.


    At the bottleneck of Turn 2, Ansel had completely blocked off any potential use of his center-right slipstream to edge past him. Luca''s System confirmed it.


    [Track Span Analysis: 0.8 meter wide (inside lane unavailable)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 0.4 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.6 meters (0.5 meters on the left, 0.1 meters on the right)]


    "...now that is the sort of battle we''ve been waiting to see from these two. Everyone has been itching to know how they race against each other, and now we''re witnessing it..."


    "...Ansel Hahn is holding Luca off, but might that be a good idea? Luca Rennick might serve that penalty at P4, returning him to P5. But Ansel Hahn is not a fan of that outcome. Either way, it puts both Trampos boys just beyond the podium, and one of them would like to remain ahead..."


    "Smart of you," Luca muttered as Ansel''s backlights flashed red at him. He could see Miles''s Dallara just hitting the straight up ahead, catching up to Max Addams. Luca was certain he could close the gap within two laps or so¡ªif he passed Ansel and served the penalty at P4. Staying at P5 risked losing the spot entirely if he delayed for ten seconds.


    Approaching the left-hander Turn 3, Luca moved to the outside lane, giving him the freedom to attempt a heavy, brutal drift and gain the lead before the straightaway. Ansel had shifted focus, abandoning the inner track for a conventional middle lane, ensuring unshaken traction and full stability through the turn.


    Luca, however, powered through the outside lane, officially matching P4 with Ansel. He aimed to execute something akin to Miles''s earlier move¡ªone that Derstappen had also attempted. Though uncertain of its exact name, Luca felt confident in performing it... without colliding.


    As Turn 3 ended, Luca found the perfect trajectory to power straight ahead.


    [Trajectory Assessment: Outside lane advantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 4th Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 90% throttle; maintain straight apex trajectory. Anticipate 4th Position''s outside pressure.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 4th Position). Adjust for slight traction loss at exit to regain position.]


    Luca trusted Ansel to yield. He had to¡ªanything less would spell catastrophe for Trampos Racing.


    Adhering to the System''s analysis, Luca executed the maneuver, his car sliding into the lead with a perfect diagonal line. Ansel had no choice but to brake and swerve to the right as Luca emerged ahead.


    [4th Position]


    [Agility +1]


    "...and Luca Rennick finally makes the move, and it''s a successful one! A beautifully calculated maneuver on the outside lane, pulling ahead of his teammate Ansel right at the exit of Turn 3...!"


    **Good one. Good one, press harder, mate** Mr. Moritz encouraged.


    Luca allowed himself a quick, triumphant exhale as Ansel shrank in his rearview.


    [You had made a 3.5 g drift]


    Luca''s own car staggered for traction, but managed to regain it faster than Ansel could rebuild his momentum.


    [You are picking up speed]


    "GG," Luca managed to say into Ansel''s radio.


    Explore more stories with empire


    **.....**


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 290 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 105 bpm


    -Operational Status: 80% (Very Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 42500 m


    -Time: 31 min ]


    Luca''s gaze flicked across his HUD, searching for the holographic "3" marking Miles''s position on the track. To his surprise, Miles''s black-and-gold Dallara wasn''t visible on the long straight.


    The crowd''s cheers grew louder, erratic even. Then Luca realized why¡ªMiles had just made a pit stop and was rolling out of the pit lane at the required speed.


    Like his earlier encounter with Derstappen some laps ago, Luca now faced another crossroads, and this time, with Miles.


    He had the speed, but Miles had the intersection. This would come down to pure racecraft and instinct¡ªa test of who could handle the pressure, maintain traction and seize control. After all, that''s what Formula 2 was all about.


    Luca could see it, P3 within his grasp. After clawing his way up from P8, he wasn''t about to back down.


    [Throttle a 98% now]


    **No need to push to the max just yet; we need a clean pass. NO MORE penalties. You''ll have to judge his reaction here, Luca, but stay alert¡ªP3 is yours if you handle this smartly**


    [Trajectory Assessment: Straightaway advantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 3rd Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 90% throttle; maintain straight apex trajectory. Anticipate 3rd Position''s intersecting pressure.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 3rd Position). Adjust for slight traction loss at exit to regain position.]

 Chapter 82 British Grand Prix 3

    Luca and Miles approached Turn 4, the sharp left-hander marking the start of the chicane. Luca knew what he had to do, his System''s calculations making the situation more coherent. Miles held the inside line on exit, but if Luca could get right alongside him, P3 would be within reach. Bold, maybe reckless¡ªmost other F2 drivers might yield here.There was no holding back. The intersection loomed, P3 easier to grab now than at any other point in the race.


    "... Miles Bellingham has been defending that P3 ever since Ansel Hahn fell back, but Luca Rennick is pushing down... can he make it stick...?!"


    Luca took a deep breath, flicking his wheel as his car began to slide. He caught a glimpse of Miles''s black-and-golden car exiting the pit lane. His own car drifted wide, skidding into the origin of the turn with sheer force, Miles''s car just a meter away.


    Luca resisted the urge to fully glance at Miles. His peripheral vision gave him all he needed. And all he saw was pure determination radiating off his opponent.


    [Track Span Analysis: 2.5 meters wide (outside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 1.8 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 2.15 meters (2 meters on the left side. 0.15 metres on the right)]


    Both cars hit the corner, neck and neck, engines screaming in their ears as tires battled against the slick, slanted track.


    **Careful. You''re in his line**


    Luca adjusted to take in more of the curve to avoid wheel contact. He could feel the heat radiating from Miles'' car, and he was certain Miles could feel his. Both tires strained, especially Luca''s, as he aimed to grip well just enough to hold his line. Miles wasn''t giving him an inch, his own drift perfectly synced with Luca''s. The two cars carved twin arcs through the turn, sparks flying into the air.


    "...unbelievable! It''s a synchronized drift! Miles Bellingham noses ahead, but Luca Rennick makes his back tires level it up...!"


    [You had made a 2.5g drift]


    Turn 5 found them aligned again, Luca nosing ahead this time. They held the line through the intense bend and launched into Turn 6, a right-hander.


    Luca shifted, squeezing into the inside line while Miles''s Dallara clung to its thin lead.


    [760 meters Straightaway ahead]


    **Get your angle right before the curve ends. Straight and P3 is yours**


    The track spat them out of the final corner, Luca now just a hair''s breadth ahead after sticking to the middle lane. Miles, who kissed the curbs, aimed for a last second slice through, but Luca had the straight trajectory. He had definite traction, and his car could accelerate without caution.


    "...and Luca Rennick takes it! He edges ahead of Miles, claiming P3 with absolutely daring driving! The crowd is losing it! This is what F2 racing is all about¡ªunrelenting, fearless competition...!"


    [3rd Position]


    [Overtaking +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    **Beautiful work, Luca. Keep it steady now. You''re clear in P3."** Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh my goodness," Luca muttered, releasing a long breath. His eyes flicked to his rearview to see Miles''s Dallara slipstreaming close behind.


    "Well, it''s far from over," he said, refocusing on the straight and racking up speed as he zoomed over the grid.


    [22nd lap]


    **You are a few seconds from Max. Can you see that?**


    [2]


    "Yeah, I can," Luca replied, spotting Max Addams'' car ahead, its somber shade blending with the dark clouds overhead as thunder growled ominously.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 4 seconds away, host.]


    "...and it looks like we have some serious action brewing up ahead! Sean Aaronson, the pack leader, is under intense pressure from his eternal rival, Max Addams, who''s been on his tail for the past two laps, waiting for any sign of weakness. Aaronson has held his ground with remarkable defense, but Addams is now pushing him right to the edge."


    "...look at that, Jon! Addams dives down the inside¡ªhe''s trying to squeeze past Aaronson through the chicane! It''s an incredibly tight move... oh, and Aaronson isn''t backing off either! Both cars are wheel-to-wheel, exchanging lead through every twist. Addams is definitely trying to rattle him, but Aaronson is fighting to keep that P1..."


    Luca observed the battle ahead, a spectacle of pure skill. The crowd was on its feet as the two veterans clashed, a rivalry that had defined seasons.


    **I want you to keep close, mate. D''yu hear?**


    "Yes," Luca replied, glancing at his side mirror as he entered the turns that Aaronson and Addams had just exited. He was catching up to lapped drivers from smaller teams.


    Miles loomed in his side mirror, his car clearly utilizing DRS but unable to gain ground. He disengaged, feathering his throttle and joining Luca into the corners.


    [4th Position closing in]


    Luca knew their battle wasn''t totally over, and he aimed to close the chapter soon enough.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 5 seconds away, host.]


    [Distance increased by 1 sec]


    "They''re on a freaking straight," Luca muttered, deftly maneuvering through the bend to Turn 2 as the clouds rumbled and the crowd drummed in unison.


    [Stamina +1]


    [4th Position closing in]


    Can I just have a break from this guy...


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [5th Position is 3 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value may change¨C in your favor.]


    [2nd Position''s distance increased by 3 seconds]


    Luca held tight through Turn 3, his tires gripping the outside lane with precision. He eased off the brake bias, allowing him to carry speed onto the straight. But with every passing second, he felt the gap to Max Addams stretching just slightly, those decimeters adding up on his HUD as the lead seemed to slip farther out of reach.


    Just then, Mr. Moritz''s voice cut through the tension, announcing something that reignited Luca''s drive.


    **"Luca, listen up! Aaronson in P1 has just been handed a 5-second penalty for forcing Max wide¡ªdeliberately. He quacked him pretty hard, and Addams is losing traction**


    Luca''s eyes widened as he processed the news, his car hurtling down the straight, farther away from Miles and closer to Max Addams. The distance was certainly reduced and Max Addams seemed almost stagnant.


    **If you close in now, Luca, that''s P2 right there. Hold steady¡ªthey''re BOTH vulnerable!**

 Chapter 83 British Grand Prix 4

    [30th Lap]As good as Max Addams was, the Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr driver had managed to hold off Luca for a solid eight laps. Even though Luca had decided to serve his penalty back on lap 23, giving Addams some breathing room, it was still impressive how well Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr had executed their strategy.


    Their clever move had Max pit just as Luca served his penalty, a calculated risk designed to keep Max out of immediate danger. Meanwhile, Aaronson took his penalty on lap 25, serving the 5-second sanction handed to him. With that, all three cars were now clear of penalties, perfectly aligned on the track, and sharing a single straightaway.


    Max was at a disadvantage now. Caught in the middle, he was Luca''s target. Fresh out of the pits, his tires were still cold and needed time to reach optimal temperature. Luca, on the other hand, had hot, ready tires as they approached Turn 1. With the grip advantage firmly in his favor, Luca was primed to strike.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 1 second away, host.]


    Hehe, this is an easy one.


    Luca subtly adjusted the brake bias, moving it slightly to the rear to give himself more stability under braking. His fingers flicked the gearshift, upshifting seamlessly as he accelerated, the car''s engine growling in response. His left foot danced on the clutch, blipping the throttle to balance the revs for a precise downshift.


    A quick glance at Max''s rear tires gave him all the information he needed. Luca squeezed the brakes later than usual, feeling the car''s immense grip as he steered cleanly into the corner. He shifted slightly in his seat, his focus razor-sharp, calculating the exact moment at the bottleneck to launch his attack.


    **I see you in P2 already, make it real now**


    [Track Span Analysis: 2.1 meters wide (inside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 1.8 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 2.15 meters (2 meters on the left side. 0.15 metres on the right)]


    "...Max Addams can''t defend that P2 anymore! It''s a battle of pure skill and nerve here, folks. Luca Rennick is pushing hard, using every inch of that inside lane as they charge through Turn 2...!"


    "He''s very good," Luca murmured, admiring Max Addams'' tenacity. The Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr driver had a remarkable ability to swiftly adapt, transitioning to the next optimal blocking position before Luca could fully commit to an overtake.


    The crowd knew their duel wouldn''t last much longer, especially with Straight 2 looming ahead, a long stretch that would test both drivers'' precision and nerve.


    Max realized this too. Even before they entered Turn 1, he clung to the faint hope that Luca''s inexperience might cause a mistake¡ªmaybe a miscalculated hit or a wild skid. But as they exited Turn 3, reality set in. Max knew P2 was slipping from his grasp.


    [500 meter Straightaway ahead]


    [DRS Engaged]


    "...and there goes Luca Rennick, activating DRS with no hesitation as they exit the chicane! Max Addams is fighting tooth and nail to defend, but Rennick is absolutely relentless...!"


    [Speed Differential: 0.3 seconds faster than opponent.]


    The gap between the two cars vanished in an instant. Luca''s car sliced through the air, his grip on the wheel tightening as he surged alongside Max in milliseconds. The straightaway unfolded like a runway, and with precision, Luca claimed P2, deliberately staying to the right to deny Max any chance of benefiting from his slipstream.


    **That was... that was wonderful, Luca**


    A chuckle escaped Luca as he responded aloud, "I know, right? Let''s keep it going!"


    "...from P8 to P2, Luca Rennick has demonstrated exceptional skill, outpacing his teammate and two of the season''s standout drivers! Jon, you''ve got to admit¡ªthis is nothing short of spectacular!"


    "...absolutely! He''s shown masterful composure under pressure. That climb from P8 to P2 isn''t just luck¡ªit''s raw talent and determination. Luca Rennick has solidified Trampos'' lead in the standings... unless he''s planning to widen the gap even further by going for P1."


    "...and it looks like that''s exactly what he''s aiming for..."


    "...yup, Aaronson is in his sight, no doubt..."


    [2nd Position]


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Host needs one more point to complete Track Awareness attribute]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used]


    "That''s wonderful," Luca whispered, glancing at his side mirror where Max Addams had begun gaining ground to reclaim P2. Judging from the energy radiating from the blue-and-black Dallara, Luca wasn''t sure if he''d survive the veteran as a defender.


    [3rd Position closing in]


    But he had Sync Buff now. He could catch up with Aaronson by zooming at high speed through the turns without having to decelerate due to maximum reflex and control. This would also spit him out of Max''s jaws.


    Wonderful.


    "Calculate Aaronson''s distance from me."


    [Host hasn''t unlocked credibility to refer to opponents by their identity.]


    "Oh I forgot. 1st Position I mean, calculate how far he is" Luca corrected himself, casting a quick look at the glowing Sync Bar for assurance.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 1st Position]


    [You are 6 seconds away, host.]


    That''s quite far, Luca mused as he mentally retrieved the notification to activate Sync Buff.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    Luca selected yes.


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 16 ???? 50


    Stamina: 24 ???? 50


    Endurance: 22 ???? 50


    Agility: 20 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 17 ???? 50 ]


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping/Spatial Awareness]


    Luca had to ponder closely for this one as he maneuvered through the curves, Max Addams regaining asphalt slowly.


    [3rd Position closing in]


    Luca dismissed Pitstop Prodigy without a second thought; the real dilemma lay between the Awareness and Chopping skills. He contemplated relying on his standard Overtaking Skill value, trusting that it would be enough while focusing on skills that would provide a broader advantage.


    The rumble of thunder up in the sky infiltrated Luca''s thoughts, reminding him of the general threat all drivers faced at the moment. The track was still wet, danger still lurking albeit there was a wrong move made. Luca didn''t want to risk it, so he surely selected Track Awareness to heighten his senses of the slick track and prevent a DNF in all possible ways.


    [Track Awareness selected]


    With this skill selected, he felt more secure in navigating the treacherous Stadhaven conditions ahead. Moreover, he had only one driver in sight, and the Chopping skills would only work whenever he''s ahead.


    Luca shook his head and selected Reflexes next.


    [Reflexes selected]


    [32nd Lap]


    With Reflexes maxed, Luca knew he could instinctively correct any skid, swerve, or minor mistake, greatly enhancing his overtaking chances. Coupled with maxed Agility, he felt almost invincible, making it nearly impossible for anyone to force him into a DNF. Enjoy new adventures at empire


    For his final skill, Luca selected Spatial Awareness without hesitation. He was curious to experience the full effect of this buff on the Skill. With Spatial Awareness at its peak, he would have a comprehensive sense of everything within a 4-meter radius from all angles of his Dallara, giving him complete control over his immediate surroundings. Luca reasoned that opting for Spatial Awareness over one of the Chopping skills would prevent any regrets if the strategy of one Chopping Skill didn''t play out as intended.


    [Intelligence +1]


    [Successfully Selected!]


    [Reflexes: 20 ???? 50


    Track Awareness: 19 ???? 50


    Spatial Awareness: 3 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!] S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [You have 4 min. 59 sec left for Sync Buff]


    He took a deep breath and accepted the instant effect it had on him. Luca''s vision grew sharper in the musky haze of the clouds, the track as drafted and lined as never, subtle nuances of optimal lines available to him.


    [Analyzing 1st Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [1st Position is 7 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value will change¨C in your favor due to Sync Buff.]


    [You are picking up speed]


    Luca hurtled down the straight at insane, unsafe speed, his senses tinged as though he was on the influence of a hard drug. All he wanted to do was meet up with Aaronson''s hovering number 1 above his orange chassis.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 310 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 105 bpm


    -Operational Status: 70% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 65000 m


    -Time: 50 min ]


    "...Sean Aaronson might be heading on to claim his third consecutive GP and set the record for this season. But Luca Rennick has fired up as usual, totally blasting himself away from Max Addams and dangerously eating up ground to get to Aaronson...!"


    "...risky racing Luca Rennick has put on play today. Daring maneuvers, aggressive driving, and overtakes¡ªif this is what makes one win, then Steve, I guess others might learn, and we would see it more often..."


    **Go ahead. You''re free to pursue the fastest lap; you need those two points too.**


    Luca zoomed through the straightaway, the roar of his engine mingling with the collective gasps of the crowd. His eyes darted to the track map displayed on his dashboard, a blur of vibrant lights indicating positions. He was closing in fast on Sean Aaronson, the car in front almost within touching distance. His tires screamed on the slick asphalt as he pushed them to the limit, his foot pressing the accelerator with unyielding force.


    The track ahead twisted sharply, and Luca''s maxed Reflexes kicked in, allowing him to glide through the turn without lifting his foot from the pedal. His Spatial Awareness painted a vivid mental map of the immediate surroundings around his Dallara, making his maneuvers through Turns 1, 2, and 3 flawless.


    Trampos Racing fans erupted in excitement as Luca Rennick''s car shot past the cameras, hitting 300 km/h with ease. The deep rumble of thunder echoed above, barely masking the cheers from the stands, the resonating commentary, and the growl of his engine. Luca''s heightened Spatial Awareness picked up something subtle yet urgent¡ªthe light single drop of rain on his car''s body.


    In a blink, the light droplets turned into a sudden downpour. Sheets of rain splashed across his visor and blurred the track ahead.


    Stadhaven instantly transitioned to a storm site.


    "¡­oh my goodness! Just like that, the heavens have opened up, and we''re seeing a complete game-changer here in the British Grand Prix¡­!"


    [Host hasn''t unlocked weather-adapting skills]


    Luca couldn''t fully see the track, just like every other driver, but his System still provided him with calculations on the sheet-covered Stadhaven nonetheless.


    [You have 2 min. left for Sync Buff]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 1st Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    "...Steve, this is unbelievable! One moment it''s just overcast, and now¡ªthis! A downpour so heavy, visibility is dropping by the second!"


    **How are we doing? Too thick, heh?**


    "I can manage," Luca replied, eyes set on Aaronson''s rear, which flashed red lights in the storm.


    [Fastest lap attained! Good job, host]


    "...look at the drivers scrambling to keep control! This is where skill and nerves of steel separate the contenders from the pretenders. And Luca Rennick?! Still charging down to the pack leader. Luca Rennick has Sean Aaronson in his jaws...!"


    Luca couldn''t hear the crowd''s cheers again; the heavy rain had drowned them out. He wished he could hear them scream at the top of their voices as he edged past Aaronson. Pulling alongside the veteran, Luca gave himself a knowing exhale for reaching this far.


    Aaronson was surprised, no doubt, and was determined to hold up, but Luca had more momentum and was a beast with Sync Buff.


    They both hit the turn, and Luca effortlessly slipped his nose in before Aaronson, officially claiming P1 in the storm.


    Frantically attempting to hold onto the position he had fought to keep, Aaronson tried cutting in before Luca could fully establish his line. But Luca''s surged speed only left Aaronson jamming his car''s front wing into Luca''s rear instead.


    **Damnit!**


    "...and it''s a contact...!"


    Luca''s rear skidded to the left, the result of Aaronson''s desperate contact. The wheel in his grasp shuddered violently as he fought to regain traction on the wet ground. Luckily for Luca, his buffed Reflexes made the situation manageable. He braked sharply, bringing his car to a stop under the heavy rain.


    Aaronson, however, wasn''t as fortunate.


    "...after a long journey, Sean Aaronson of Hatcherk Motorsport WILL NOT finish today''s race! Unbelievable. Following a brief battle with the mazerunner himself, Aaronson''s car spun out from the contact, skidding off the track and into the runoff area. He managed to avoid the barriers, but the rear suspension has taken a significant hit..."


    "Fuck!" Aaronson cursed in his cockpit, watching Luca''s Dallara slowly turn with drifting tires before resuming the race. His own car had suffered critical mechanical failure in the front suspension. Getting back on track wasn''t an option.


    [1st Position]


    [Overtaking +1]


    Luca didn''t celebrate his claim of P1 right away. His eyes darted to the clouded side mirror, catching a glimpse of Aaronson''s stranded car. "Am I being penalized?" he asked over the radio.


    [You have 30 seconds left for Sync Buff]


    **...**


    **...**


    **No. You''re all clear. You are completely clear. Get an extra lap before the safety car''s out. This one''s in the bag, c''mon!**


    [35th lap]


    Ten laps left? Luca thought, taking a deep breath as he reclaimed the lead after the safety car did its job.


    It was official¡ªSean Aaronson wasn''t finishing the race in England. And Luca loved every second of it.


    [Sync Buff has elapsed!]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 0%]


    [40th lap]


    The rain reduced to a drizzle as Luca glanced at his 60% Operational Status. He had a commanding lead and didn''t want anything to jeopardize it. He was actually going to win his first race¡ªhis first F2 Grand Prix.


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 20 sec away, host.]


    That''s huge!


    **Box, they can never catch up. Would need you moving over the grid with power**


    Luca thought of speaking to Ansel about his P1 claim but decided against it. He couldn''t pinpoint why; it just didn''t feel right.


    [You are reducing speed.]


    Luca barreled down the pit lane, where the Trampos crew was already jubilant, preparing for his incoming victory.


    Thud, wrench, pat¡ªzoom.


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    [41st lap]


    "¡­the forty-first lap is underway! Glad the rain has died down a bit¡ªthe track is clearer but still wet. At least now, everyone can see Luca Rennick claim his first Formula 2 Grand Prix¡­"


    "¡­he''s alone, isn''t he?"


    "¡­yes, he is! By a 15-second margin! Unbelievable! Max Addams in P2 is two sectors back. Luca Rennick has all eyes in England on him¡ªhe''s on the final lap¡­!"


    [Stamina +1]


    [45th lap]


    Luca couldn''t believe that his first race victory would be at the Stadhaven Circuit, located in London¡ªthe very place where the most important moments of his life were based.


    His mother was certainly watching, and she would witness him crossing the grid.


    The checkered flag waved, and every fan clad in red was on their feet.


    "¡­an effortless Formula 2 win for him. From P8 to P1...Luca Rennick HAS WON the British Grand Prix¡­!"


    [1st POSITION]

 Chapter 84 British Grand Prix 5: First Race Win

    [Congratulations, host! You have made a podium!]Mr. Grant remained rooted in his seat at the viewing post, his sharp gaze fixed on the track as Luca''s red-and-black Dallara roared across the finish line. A deafening cheer erupted from the grandstand, the energy washing over the arena like a tidal wave as the day''s victor claimed his glory. Amid the roar of the crowd and the celebratory whoops from the Trampos crew, Mr. Grant found himself clapping fervently, pulled into the exhilarating current of the moment.


    Luca''s car now dominated every hazy, storm-gray screen, gliding effortlessly with the swagger of triumph. He raised a gloved hand from the cockpit, saluting the roaring sea of fans packed into the fog-laden 7th Stand. Their voices, a raucous symphony of adoration, echoed through the circuit.


    "...and Max Addams takes P2, 13 seconds behind...!"


    The announcement barely seemed to matter. All eyes remained glued to Luca Rennick as he embarked on a leisurely victory lap, his hand waving in languid acknowledgment of the crowd''s adoration.


    "...Miles Bellingham holds off Ansel Hahn again! It''s a repeat of Bahrain as they cross the line¡ªBellingham takes 3rd, Hahn finishes 4th...!"


    **You''re the man, you did it**


    Luca bit his lip behind his helmet, his joy bubbling to the surface. A simple wave wasn''t enough¡ªnot for this moment, not for his first win. His excitement surged like a dam breaking. "Come on! Come on! Yes!" he yelled, his voice trembling with elation. From the other end of the radio, Mr. Moritz caught every ounce of raw emotion.


    **We have our lead. You maintained our lead. Wonderful race, Luca.**


    Luca eased his car to a calm halt near the 7th Stand after one final, leisurely lap. As Max Addams'' car zipped past in apparent frustration, Luca couldn''t help but smirk, unbothered. With a quick shrug, he unfastened his seatbelt and hauled himself out of the sweltering cockpit.


    The biting cold greeted him instantly, a sharp contrast to the heat inside the car. A thunderous cheer from fans clad in red swelled as Luca stood atop his vehicle, basking in the glory of his victory.


    [Ding!]


    [Mission Completed!]


    [Host has won his first official race]


    [Ding!]


    [System Unlocking Activity Panel...]


    [Activity Panel Unlocked]


    [System Commencement In Progress...]


    [System Activity Commenced!]


    [Do you accept Advanced Bundle?]


    [Y / N]


    Luca mentally dismissed the System''s notification, its glowing prompts confined within his helmet''s display. That could wait. This moment¡ªhis moment¡ªdeserved undivided attention. The commentators'' excited recaps filled the air, sinking the reality of his triumph deeper into the crowd''s collective consciousness.


    I freaking did it!


    Luca hopped down from his scorching single-seater, the soles of his racing boots splashing into a shallow puddle of rainwater on the slick asphalt. He felt the rush to celebrate with the crowd, but Stadhaven was nothing like George Park¨Cit was literally the opposite. Here, the grandstands were set extremely far back from the track, framed by stretches of manicured greenery and rows of ornamental plants. All he could do was wave, scanning the sea of spectators in a futile attempt to spot his mother among them. The crowd, unified in their red dress code, formed a sweeping blur of color that made finding any one''s face impossible.


    "...and this could very well be their season. Luca Rennick secures 27 points for Trampos, cementing their lead and giving them a clear advantage heading into the break. It''s a different story for Hatcherk Motorsport, though. Stadhaven is awash with disappointed fans in orange as Sean Aaronson failed to finish the British Grand Prix following a front-to-rear collision with today''s victor, Luca Rennick. Jon, this surely puts a dent in their championship hopes, wouldn''t you agree...?"


    "...yes, Steve. I very much agree. And from past outcomes, a comeback at this stage seems unlikely."


    "...let''s hope the competition stays fierce and unpredictable. The Formula 2 feeder series officially reaches its midseason break, folks! We''ll be back in June, where the intensity picks up once more with the drivers fighting for every crucial point. Until then, stay tuned for more updates and highlights as we build up to the return of racing action...!"


    Luca slowly lowered his arm, the adrenaline still racing through his veins as his gaze swept across the cheering masses. The atmosphere was electric, but Luca couldn''t tell if it was his name echoing through the stands or just the collective excitement of the crowd. He let himself be swept up in the moment, briefly savoring the victory before reality kicked in.


    Turning, his gaze landed on a familiar figure walking toward him. Ansel, his teammate, moved through the foggy air with purpose. The lean, athletic build was unmistakable, his sharp features framed by the glint of his helmet visor. Luca could tell by the set of Ansel''s jaw and the way his posture was a bit stiffer than usual that he wasn''t entirely pleased with his P4 finish. The competitive fire that burned in Ansel was never easily quenched, but Luca was relieved to see that he was heading over anyway. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca knew that despite their fierce on-track battle, they were teammates at the end of the day. It was a win for Trampos, and that meant a win for both of them¡ªat least that''s how Luca hoped Ansel would see it. He just hoped the short-lived battle would remain a healthy competition on the track alone, and just that.


    "We were rivals today, heh?" Ansel''s voice, muffled but good-humored, filtered through his helmet. He spread his arms, inviting Luca for a hug.


    "Yeah, just a little one," Luca replied, pulling off his own helmet. A grin tugged at his lips as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Stepping forward, he embraced his teammate with a hearty pat on the back.


    "Congratulations."


    "Thanks man."


    They exchanged a few more words, their brief celebration full of lightheartedness, before the voice of their lead team engineer, Mr. Moritz, broke the moment. He arrived with the pit crew, their faces plastered with pride and relief. "You did it, Luca! This is exactly what we needed," Mr. Moritz bellowed, clapping Luca on the back.


    Luca''s helmet felt heavy in his grip as he turned to face them. Grinning wildly, he ran a hand through his damp hair, catching a glimpse of the podium being prepped in the distance. Before he could speak, McCauley shoved a cold bottle of water into his hand. The crew crowded around him and Ansel, laughter and shouts filling the air. Water splashed around as some of the guys playfully doused each other, making Luca chuckle as droplets hit his neck.


    The noise from the grandstands settled into a rhythmic chant all through Stadhaven. Luca, Ansel, and the team returned to their garage, where their immediate celebrations continued with more water being splashed around.


    "Good job, Luca," Mr. Grant said as soon as he entered deep into the team''s garage. "This was more than a result I could ask for. You did very well."


    "Thank you, sir. I''m glad I could make you proud."


    "Can Luca Rennick please make his way to the press conference area?" a federation official called out from outside their paddock.


    "Where is Luca Rennick? Where is Luca Rennick? Oh, there he is!" the Trampos crew joked in unison, pushing Luca out of the paddock.


    Luca quickly handed his helmet to a mechanic and weaved his way to the official, trying to dodge more slaps on his back.


    He followed the official through the foggy but lively atmosphere of Stadhaven, passing Retona''s paddock, where the electric vibe didn''t seem to spark. Oliver Kristensen finished P7, a usual spot he always hovered around in.


    Luca entered the tunnel that led to the press area. The federation official suddenly dispatched, leaving him to face the wrath of crowded photographers and blinding camera lights.


    "Please, this way, Luca," a young assistant called out, waving him over to a quieter corner where a makeshift press area had been set up. Luca nodded, squinting against the glare of camera flashes as he pushed forward.


    The press area was buzzing with reporters and bright lights to highlight all his features. Luca was slowly getting used to it after Mallow had taught him how to handle press questions.


    "Congratulations on your victory before the season''s break, Luca," a female reporter said, extending her mic toward him. "You''re soaked, and not from the rain but from your team''s celebration. Was this win especially significant for you and the team?"


    Luca steadied his breath, catching a glimpse of Miles Bellingham passing by with his team principal in tow. He took a moment before answering. "This win definitely strengthened our lead on the table. It''s a big one for us," he said, keeping his tone calm.


    "We''ll wrap this up quickly, fine by you?"


    "Yeah, sure."


    "Let''s address the late-race incident with Sean Aaronson. What''s your take on his DNF? Some say you should have been penalized."


    Luca pressed his lips together. Aaronson had been at fault, and the stewards had made their decision. Why dig this up now? He glanced toward the tunnel''s entrance, spotting Aaronson stepping in, his glare already locked on Luca. "I had about a 20-second lead. Even if there was a penalty, it wouldn''t have changed much, would it?" Luca said.


    Aaronson''s expression darkened, and he clenched his fist as a teammate tried to pull him away from the tense moment.


    "About that lead, Luca. Uhmm, can you look at the camera?" the reporter said, pulling his focus back.


    Luca reluctantly tore his gaze from Aaronson to listen to the next question.


    "About that lead of yours¡ªzero competition around you in those final laps. What was going through your mind?"


    Luca nodded slowly, shrugging. "It felt surreal¡ªI couldn''t believe I was about to win my first race," he replied, eyes shifting back to Aaronson, who was still rooted in place.


    "And do you think more wins are on the horizon for Trampos Racing''s Luca Rennick?"


    "Yes," Luca said, holding Aaronson''s gaze, unblinking.


    "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!" Aaronson''s voice boomed through the tunnel, halting the chaotic bustle. Heads turned as the Hatcherk Motorsport driver pointed sharply at Luca. "What the hell are you staring at, huh?!"


    Luca frowned, playing it off with a shrug and a glance over his shoulder, as if confused.


    "Don''t you fucking play dumb!" Aaronson shouted, taking a step closer.


    "Mr. Aaronson, please hold on, your interview is coming up," the reporter interjected, while Aaronson''s crew struggled to hold him back.


    Luca couldn''t believe he found himself in a brawl.


    "Take it easy, mate. I wasn''t even looking at you," he said calmly as security rushed to form a barrier between him and the approaching F2 veteran.


    Aaronson glared, spitting at the floor. "Get the cameras on me," he growled, thumping his chest. "He''s a menace, a pest, and if nobody deals with him, I will."


    Explore more at empire


    More security staff poured in as the commotion escalated, the tunnel turning into a frenzied scene. The Trampos team appeared on Luca''s side, easing him back as Aaronson was forcibly guided away.


    "What the heck happened?" Mr. Moritz asked, glancing around the crowded tunnel.


    "He''s just frustrated he didn''t finish," Luca said, exhaling slowly.


    A reporter tried pushing forward with more questions about what had just unfolded, but Moritz stepped in. "As you can see, our driver has a podium to attend," he said, steering Luca toward the 1st section where the podium awaited.


    The tunnel may have been chaotic, but it was nothing compared to the uproar in the grandstands as Luca, Max, and Miles stepped out for the podium ceremony. The crowd was a whirlwind of shouts and chants, the earlier tunnel confrontation now looping on the big screens and fueling the energy. Opinions clashed in a roar, some cheering for Luca, others calling out Aaronson''s name with pointed jeers.


    Luca kept his expression neutral, though his pulse still thudded with the tension of moments earlier. He climbed the podium steps with confidence, determined to let nothing weigh down the joy of his first race win.


    "1st Position, LUCA RENNICK!"


    Luca waved enthusiastically to the crowd as Max Addams and Miles Bellingham were called up for P2 and P3 respectively. The cheers grew louder, the atmosphere electric with celebration.


    The British national anthem began to play, accompanied by the raising of the UK flag at the four corners of the 1st Stand. Familiar with the anthem, Luca sang along confidently


    As the anthem concluded, Luca stepped forward to receive his trophy. The crowd erupted once more, a mix of applause, cheers, and some lingering shouts from the earlier drama. He raised the trophy high, not for himself, but for his team, his family and his supporters.


    Standing on the top step of the podium, Luca couldn''t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. He glanced to his right at Miles, who had always doubted his abilities and was now below him at P3. He imagined his schoolmates watching this moment¡ªeither from their homes or possibly among the roaring crowd in the grandstands. They were witnessing history: Luca Rennick, claiming the first-ever official F2 trophy in Stadhaven.


    [Congratulations, host.]

 Chapter 85 Evening Progresses

    It was 4:30 pm in London, and the Stadhaven Circuit was yet to be emptied, fans still filling the muted surroundings as if waiting for the next day''s Formula 1 action. Some of the teams still hadn''t rolled out either, leaving the venue crowded and buzzing with activity.The weather remained prolific, with a light rain shower drizzling shortly after the podium celebrations. The drizzle ceased and picked up at sporadic moments, and now it fell lightly as Trampos Racing prepared to roll out of Stadhaven, heading back to Fulham where their general temporary residence lay.


    Deep within the garage, Luca sat in the changing room, undressing from his damp racing suit and into more casual attire¡ªhis custom-made Trampos tracksuit. He held his phone to his ear while slipping on his sneakers, speaking to Sara. He told Sara that he won''t be meeting up with she and Mallow that evening because the team had an indoor party. He also told her to come very early tomorrow morning to pick him up.


    When Sara acknowledged all his plans, Luca dropped his phone and focused on dressing himself appropriately. Grabbing a towel, he wiped away the lingering residue of sweat and rain from his face and neck before pulling on a fresh white T-shirt. He then reached for his gray-and-red Trampos Racing tracksuit, slipping it on and zipping it halfway. His gray sneakers followed, laced tightly for a snug fit.


    Luca took a moment to calm his nerves, arranging his damp, tangled hair into something more presentable. He paused briefly, inhaled deeply, and uttered quietly, "System display."


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [ANALYZING DATA AND ATTRIBUTES...]


    [Welcome.]


    "Cheers," Luca whispered, navigating swiftly to his recent notifications.


    [Do you accept Advanced Bundle?]


    [Y / N]


    The notification reappeared the moment Luca selected it. He paused briefly, his finger hovering before decisively pressing yes, his curiosity and ambition driving him to take this next step with his System.


    [Congratulations! The Advanced Bundle will now be embedded into your Activity!]


    "Alright. Tell me what this is all about," he said, leaning back against the bench with growing intrigue.


    [The Advanced Bundle offers a slightly more challenging Daily Routine and harder Daily Tasks. However, it maintains similar dietary requirements as the Intermediate Bundle.]


    Luca nodded cynically. "Oh¡­. okay."


    [Engine, Chassis, and Car brands can now be assessed and analyzed by an additional 5-meter distance.]


    "Nice," Luca muttered, already considering how this could give him a better edge during pre-race setups, or even in a race.


    [Sync Buff and Sync Bar requirements remain unchanged from the Intermediate Bundle.]


    [Focus Mode is now available. A feature that minimizes all non-essential notifications and helps host maintain concentration during races.]


    Out of everything, you gimme that, Luca mused with a sigh. The Advanced Bundle didn''t seem particularly groundbreaking compared to Intermediate Bundle''s difference from Rookie Bundle. Have I ever even complained about notifications? He asked, unsure if he''d overlooked complaining about it sometime ago.


    [No, host. And yes, Advanced Bundle is practically an upgraded version of Intermediate. However, the Professional Bundle is an entirely new level.]


    Okay.


    [Most importantly, the Advanced Bundle unlocks two new Skills, host.]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked 2 Skills:


    -Night Mastery: 2


    -Grid Launch: 2 ]


    Now, this sounds authentic! Luca boomed with joy. Care to explain?


    [Night Mastery allows host to excel in night racing conditions by enhancing host''s vision, reaction time, and supporting his Awarenesses. It helps maintain consistent lap times when most drivers struggle with reduced visibility in artificial lighting.]


    [Grid Launch helps boost host''s reaction time at the starting grid, aiming for optimal throttle control and seamless launch off the grid. It improves starting speed by 4% up to 35%, providing an advantage in gaining positions right from the beginning of the race.]


    This is much better. Wonderful, in fact. It''ll really help me out, especially now that I have a pole position.


    [REANALYZING DAILY ROUTINE...]


    [DAILY ROUTINE WOULD COMMENCE OFFICIALLY SUNDAY MORNING¡ª5 AM]


    Wow, I don''t even have time to rest, do I?


    [System is willing to grant host that. Would you like to reschedule Advanced Bundle''s new Daily Routine?]


    He bit his lip thoughtfully. "I''ll think about it later. For now, show me my status."


    [Waiting for notification....]


    [Ding!]


    [Advanced Mission has been Issued!]


    [-¡¤-WIN YOUR FIRST CHAMPIONSHIP-¡¤-]


    Luca widened his eyes. That was quite some height his System was pushing him to achieve. The F2 championship was what he would have to win to get into Professional Bundle?


    Taking a deep breath, he acknowledged the mission. It wasn''t as though winning the championship hadn''t been his goal all along, but the System had a way of amplifying everything. He had a good chance, and Luca could as well call himself a fierce competitor for the final trophy.


    He glanced at his bag, where today''s trophy was neatly packed, gleaming as a symbol of his progress and a proud smile spread across his face.


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Personal Information:


    Name: Luca Rennick


    Age: 18


    Nationality: Italian ]


    --------------------------------------


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 71kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 32%


    Strength: 16


    Stamina: 24


    Endurance: 22


    Agility: 20


    Intelligence: 18 ]


    ----------------------------------------


    [Personal Stats:


    Nickname: None


    Status: 2 year contract


    Salary: $53,000


    Team: Trampos Racing


    Race Win: 1


    Podium Finishes: 3


    Pole Positions: 1]


    ------------------------------------------


    [Skills & Techniques: Total Grade - B


    Track Awareness: 19


    Pitstop Prodigy: 6


    Corner Chopping: 5


    Straightaway Chopping:3


    Spatial Awareness :3


    Night Mastery: 2


    Grid Launch: 2


    Others (Completed)


    Others (Locked) ]


    ------------------------------------------


    Luca stroked his jaw, nodding thoughtfully. "There is progress," he muttered aloud.


    The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention, and he instantly recognized the familiar, deliberate pace. Ansel appeared from the viewing post, already changed out of his suit and ready to head out. He wore a Trampos tracksuit like Luca''s, but the colors were reversed¡ªAnsel''s outfit featured more red, whereas Luca''s had dominant gray.


    Two more figures followed Ansel into the room: Haas and Victor. Haas sported a black-and-red version of the tracksuit, while Victor''s was red-and-black. Luca couldn''t help but appreciate the neat coordination of their attire.


    "What''s up, guys?" Luca greeted, glancing at the team drivers gathered before him.


    Haas shrugged, his bag slung over one shoulder. "Not much. Just heading to the bus with Beany," he replied, nodding toward Victor.


    "I''ll be there in a while," Ansel murmured, pulling a head warmer over his hair before digging into his bag.


    Haas nodded and glanced at Luca, raising an eyebrow.


    "Oh, me? I''ll wait for Han," Luca said quickly.


    "Alright," Haas replied with a slight wave before he and Victor exited the garage, their footsteps fading into the corridor.


    Luca''s eyes drifted back to Ansel, who had settled onto a bench, absentmindedly rubbing his palms together. Luca''s brow furrowed as he noticed Ansel hadn''t taken anything out of his bag. A familiar feeling stirred in Luca''s gut, but before he could say anything, Ansel broke the silence.


    "Why didn''t you follow them, heh?" Ansel asked, his voice slightly echoing off the lockers.


    Luca burst into laughter, slamming his palm on his knee. "What about you?!" he cackled. "You think I didn''t notice you waiting them out?!"


    Ansel raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, you caught me. But at least you should spend more time with them. It was okay when the balance was slanted with me beneath and them above the plank. Now, you''ve made it equal," Ansel said. "You understand?"


    "I understand."


    Ansel exhaled deeply as he stood up, gripping his bag and stretching his legs. "We need to head out soon. I can''t stand being here too long. The UK just isn''t for me," he muttered.


    Luca glanced at his trophy one last time before zipping up his bag. He stood, phone in one hand, bag in the other. "Why?" he asked, tilting his head. "Is it the weather? The accents?"


    "Those are on the list."


    "If the weather keeps being bad, you might end up staying longer," Luca said with a grin. "I could use the company. How about dinner? I''ll invite you over."


    Ansel nodded without hesitation, a casual smile tugging at his lips. "Sure, no problem."


    But just as they reached the door, Luca stopped him. "And I''ll introduce you to my family."


    Ansel''s brows furrowed in confusion, the sounds of the team''s shuffling and clanking in the background adding a layer of noise to the moment. "You mean your mother and sister? The ones you''ve mentioned?"


    "Yeah, that''s right," Luca replied, his eyes locking onto Ansel''s. "Tomorrow evening, 6 p.m. I''ll send you the address."


    For Ansel, he couldn''t quite believe Luca was offering that. If he did dine with his family, then their friendship would surely be sealed and complete¡ªthat''s how it goes. He nodded slowly, suddenly curious about the kind of household a well-groomed boy like Luca had grown up in.


    "Cheers, man." S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "No problem," Ansel replied as they stepped out into the calm evening breeze, ruffling their hair.


    "Your mother cooks, right?"


    "Yeah, why?"


    "I just like home-cooked food better."

 Chapter 86 Home For A Moment

    At eight in the morning, Luca stepped out of the training facility, having just completed his Daily Routine and an early Daily Quest notification. The sky was a canvas of dark clouds, and sheets of rain lashed against the building, creating a rhythmic drumming that filled the air with a steady hum.Inside, the crew gathered around the breakfast table. Luca joined them briefly, savoring a warm, hearty meal while consciously limiting his intake of liquids because of the rain. The heavy rain outside amplified the cozy atmosphere, making it feel like they were wrapped in a cocoon of sound.


    He exchanged farewells with the team, glancing at Ansel to remind him of their dinner plans for the evening as he grabbed his backpack and duffel bag, dressed in the same tracksuit. With a nod of acknowledgment from Ansel, Luca turned to leave.


    Umbrella in hand, he stepped out under the canopied ramp that connected the facility to the parking area. The rain pelted the metal awning, the noise sharp and rhythmic. A security guard stationed at the entrance pulled the door open for him, and Luca offered a quick nod of thanks before stepping into the downpour.


    Luca instantly spotted Sara''s car standing at the far end with its headlights glowing faintly in the mist of rain. He then navigated through the downpour until he reached the car, tossing his bags into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat.


    "Goooood morning, Mr. Champion," Sara said as Luca settled in, shaking off the cold droplets that clung to his sleeves.


    Luca managed to grin. "I don''t get called that everyday, but I''ll take it, why not?"


    "I was so proud of you," Sara continued, shifting the car into reverse. "I was the one who started the chant of your name."


    "Really?"


    "Yes," she replied, maneuvering the car out of the parking spot with a precise L-turn. "So, we''re headed to your family''s house, right?" Her eyes flicked briefly to the notepad with the address scrawled in her neat handwriting before returning to the road.


    Luca nodded as they rolled into the main street. They were indeed going to his family''s house, but not that dusty, creaky, old building they had struggled in for years. No, he had ensured that those days were behind them. As soon as he started earning, the first thing he did was order his mother to find a better place.


    Now, they resided in a charming, modern townhouse in Clapham. Luca had heard about the neighborhood before, learning about its leafy streets lined with terraces, quaint cafes, and a sense of community that felt safe and welcoming. It was still close to Sophia''s school as well, and a bus could service that.


    Luca sighed and pulled out his phone, his mind drifting back to this his racing career. He had just won the sixth round of Formula 2 this season, and now they were officially in midseason which would last a month or so.


    The most important thing to Luca was that Trampos was still at the top. This would help him focus very well on individual effort and success, knowing fully well that the team in general was driving to victory. To be certain, he pulled up the team''s standings of the championship to gauge the points difference.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -------------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 181


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 148


    3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 98


    4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 92


    5. | Retona Racing | 38 sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A 33-point difference from Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr was still not enough. If one race spelled disaster for Luca and Ansel, then Max Addams and Dani Walding would surely claim the top.


    Squinting closely, Luca noticed a change in the table. He found out that Squadra Corse Jnr had moved up to third, dethroning HM by six points.


    No wonder Aaronson was so mad and frustrated, Luca thought with a smile, recalling Aaronson''s earlier misfortune in Stadhaven. The DNF had really slimmed his chances of winning the championship and even Luca could feel the strain just by staring at the figures.


    Wondering how much it had affected the player standings, Luca navigated to that section.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    ----------------------------------------------


    1. | Max Addams | 109


    2. | Ansel Hahn | 107


    3. | Miles Bellingham | 82


    4. | Sean Aaronson | 80


    5. | Luca Rennick | 72


    A lump formed in Luca''s throat as he stared at his position. His two-race absence had really taken a brutal toll on his points, widening the gap between him and his rivals. Even Aaronson, who had suffered a DNF, had surpassed him with a fair lead.


    Luca sighed and switched off his phone, determined to close that gap as quickly as possible. He glanced behind at the backseat where his bag was, wishing he had pulled out his mp3 player before entering the car.


    Taking a deep breath, he relaxed into the comfort of the passenger seat as the familiar streets of London rolled by in a blur of wet gray and brick facades. The rhythmic patter of rain against the windshield created a soothing backdrop, broken only by the occasional swoosh of passing cars and the steady hum of the engine.


    It had been nearly a thirty-minute drive, and Luca kept himself occupied by playing his simple candy-matching game on his phone and casually browsing through various apps. Despite having his phone in hand, he refrained from calling his mother. Today was Sunday, and he was confident she''d be home, most likely enjoying a peaceful day with Sophia.


    Luca preferred it this way¡ªshowing up unannounced. He wanted to catch them in their natural state, without the pressure of preparing for his arrival. If he called ahead, he knew they would tidy up the house, put on their best smiles, and act as if everything were perfect. But what Luca craved was authenticity. He wanted to see them as they truly were in their new home, relaxed and living their lives. It was the only way he could genuinely assess how they were settling in and whether they were truly comfortable.


    They rolled further south toward Clapham, and the London scenery gradually shifted, save for the constant downpour.


    The narrow, bustling streets opened up to quieter residential areas lined with rows of Victorian terraced houses and leafy parks shrouded in mist. There were fewer pedestrians shielded under umbrellas as the greenery occupied everywhere.


    Luca''s mind kept drifting off into a hundred thoughts, subconsciously listening to Sara''s melodic humming as she drove slowly behind another car in the quiet, residential streets. His eyes focused in between the windshield wipers as they moved back and forth, sweeping away the rain droplets.


    Slowly, he returned to full consciousness, his gaze focusing on the car before them. Luca slowly sat up straight and told Sara to follow the white car.


    Luca knew his mother and sister like a computer, their kind of clothes and even their silhouette. Despite the misty rain, Luca recognized both of them instantly. His mother was at the wheel, speaking animatedly to Sophia, who was reaching into the backseat, perhaps to keep something. Luca wondered where they had been so early on a Sunday. Church? A visit to a friend''s house? Whatever it was, seeing them so unexpectedly sent warmth through his chest.


    Sara, as smart and intelligent as ever, asked, "Is that them?"


    "Yes," Luca replied, studying his mom''s new car. "Such a coincidence."


    Sara eased off the accelerator and gently followed Mrs. Rennick''s car, navigating through the quiet neighborhood. The rain softened, turning into a drizzle as they turned down a serene street shaded by old but healthy trees, their branches dripping rain onto the sidewalks.


    Luca adjusted his seating as his mother''s car slowed to approach one of the homes. His eyes darted to a charming two-story townhouse with cream-colored bricks and a navy-blue door that stood out against the wet pavement. Nice.


    Mrs. Rennick''s car came to a stop at the curve, prompting Sara to quickly park a short distance away and cut the engine. They remained in silence in the car, both watching Mrs. Rennick and Sophia step out of the car, their umbrellas unfurling. Luca smiled as Sophia laughed at something their mother said with a bright smile. She then opened the backseat and reached inside.


    Luca was glad to see his mother and sister getting along so well; the shared smile and giggle between them said everything. He reached down and grabbed his umbrella from beneath the seat before pushing the door open. Sara stepped out right behind him, already popping her umbrella open in one swift motion.


    How long will it even rain? Luca thought as he dodged a puddle that threatened to splash up his pant leg. He shut the door beside him, standing still and awaiting their recognition.


    Instantly, Mrs. Rennick glanced in their direction, and her gaze fell on Luca. Just as Luca expected, she stood there in a moment of shock, trying to process the figure under an umbrella. Sophia''s reaction, however, was different. As soon as she brought out some grocery bags from the backseat, she placed them on the roof of the car. Noticing her mother''s distraction, she looked in that direction and caught sight of Luca.


    "Oh my God!" Sophia shrieked loud enough to silence the clouds as she threw away her umbrella and began sprinting toward Luca.


    Sara burst into laughter at Sophia''s reaction, while Luca only opened one arm to embrace her. Sophia reached him in seconds, practically throwing herself into his open arm, wrapping him in a fierce hug. "You didn''t tell me you were coming!"


    "I never tell you anything. C''mon, you''re pushing me to the puddle. Let''s meet Mom," Luca said, guiding her by the shoulder.


    They walked over to Mrs. Rennick, who had already processed that Luca was really there. She locked her car and placed her hands on her hips, giving him a look that said she was ready to scold him for showing up without warning.


    "Mom, Sophia, this is Sara, my Personal Assistant," Luca said. "Sara, this is my mother and my younger sister."


    Mrs. Rennick''s expression softened as she turned to Sara. "It''s nice to meet you, Mrs. Rennick," Sara said, shaking her hand.


    "Nice to meet you too," Mrs. Rennick replied. "Are you the one keeping me from my son when I call?"


    Sara shot Luca a side glare. Handling his personal line was out of her work, meaning Luca blocked any calls himself. However, she laughed it out. "It''s all work, ma''am, I''ll try and make him available for you next time," she said.


    Luca chuckled, shifting his weight to balance the bags in his arms. "Alright, can we head inside? The rain is picking up again," he said, noticing the droplets growing heavier. He handed Sophia her abandoned umbrella while gathering the three grocery bags with ease.


    Luca took a good look at the house as they approached the doorstep. The new home had well-tendered flowerbeds and freshly painted shutters. Once they were on the balcony, they furled their umbrellas.


    "What''s that on your face?" Sophia asked. "When did you get a mustache?!"


    "Don''t be silly," Luca muttered, watching closely as his mother unlocked the door. He moved his gaze to his mother''s face, trying to study her expression as she ushered everyone in.


    Sara mentioned she would go park her car properly and get his bags, before she headed out into the rain again.


    "Is it your car?" Sophia asked.


    "I will answer all your questions once we settle in," Luca replied, stepping into the dark living room with the grocery bags.

 Chapter 87 Home For A Moment 2

    Luca loved how the new home exuded a welcoming aura. The mingling scent of cinnamon, lavender, polished furniture, and freshly baked bread greeted him as he stepped inside.He appreciated how his mother had showcased their framed family photos, lining them neatly along the living room wall and draping the couches with cozy quilts. A black, furry creature suddenly leaped onto the dining table, poking its nose into the grocery bags. Initially startled, Luca assumed Sophia had brought home a cat, but he quickly learned it was his mother''s new pet.


    Without even pausing to settle down, Luca instinctively patrolled the house, moving from room to room to ensure everything was secure. He was relieved to find the back door locked and most of the windows shut tight¡ªexcept for the one in Sophia''s room. Despite that, he was impressed by how tidy she had kept her space.


    The house felt more spacious inside than it appeared from the outside. It had a four-bedroom layout with a cozy living room and a functional kitchen. A hallway connected the rooms on the ground floor with those upstairs via a central staircase. There was even a pantry stocked with Fijee drinks, which brought a small smile to Luca''s face.


    Satisfied with his inspection, Luca finally settled onto one of the couches, secretly wishing he and Sophia had grown up in a home like this. The atmosphere felt warm and comforting. Sara entered shortly after, carrying her bag and Luca''s, which she carefully placed to the side before sitting on a couch adjacent to him.


    Mrs. Rennick soon followed, bringing a tray laden with freshly baked scones, a small dish of clotted cream, and a teapot with two cups. Her warm smile lit up the room as she served them, eager to begin a conversation.


    Luca started speaking to quench his mother''s thirst to know what was going on. He narrated how the season had unfolded so far, from Germany back to England. It was a mutual conversation as Sophia and his mother kept interrupting with questions that Luca answered. He did his best to keep certain details hidden, especially the grueling training sessions he endured to stay fit enough to drive a single-seater. However, he couldn''t hide the fact that his mother and sister watched every race religiously, and were even present at the British Grand Prix the previous day.


    Mrs. Rennick didn''t waste any time voicing her concerns, particularly about the tense moments between Luca and Aaronson, especially their wheel-to-wheel contact on the track and their face-to-face contact in the tunnel. "It''s unhealthy," she insisted, shaking her head. She didn''t stop there, bringing up the harsh weather conditions during the race and how dangerous it was to drive at such speeds.


    Sara gently reminded Mrs. Rennick that the inherent risks were part of what drew people to the sport. The tension, speed, and raw competition captivated audiences worldwide, making motorsport the thrilling spectacle it was. That explanation did very little to ease Mrs. Rennick''s worry.


    Engrossed in their adult conversation, Luca didn''t notice that his phone, set to silent mode, had been ringing for some time. The sky outside had shifted to the muted hues of early evening, signaling it was already 5 p.m. Their discussion was interrupted by a knock at the door.


    Sophia, who had been less engaged in the conversation, sprang up to answer it. Luca followed shortly after, already guessing who might be at the doorstep.


    Sophia reached the door first, opening it to reveal Ansel standing there with an umbrella in hand. Behind him, rain fell in shimmering sheets, creating a silvery curtain against the dim evening light.


    Ansel''s gaze flicked between Luca and Sophia, quickly noting their strong resemblance before folding his umbrella. "I took a big risk showing up with your phone ringing endlessly. What if you weren''t home?" he teased.


    "My fault. Sorry about that. Come in," Luca said, stepping aside to let him in.


    Ansel entered, shaking off his coat and slipping off his boots near the entrance as rainwater dripped from his clothing.


    "Who''s this? He looks familiar," Sophia whispered to Luca.


    "He''s my teammate," Luca replied in a low voice, taking Ansel''s coat to hang up. "Sophia, this is Mr. Ansel. Emphasis on the ''mister''¡ªhe''s engaged."


    Turning toward the living room, Luca announced, "Mom, this is Ansel, my teammate. Ansel, meet my mom and my younger sister, Sophia."


    Ansel and Mrs. Rennick exchanged warm greetings, as though they were old acquaintances. Mrs. Rennick even embraced him in a surprisingly maternal way, making Ansel feel instantly welcomed.


    Mrs. Rennick finally excused herself to prepare dinner, leaving Sophia to claim charge of the conversation. She tried her best to drag the attention of the two young men who instead, found joy in discussing about furnitures and their exquisite brands.


    By 6 p.m., the aroma of freshly cooked food filled the house. Mrs. Rennick called everyone to the dining table, where a hearty meal awaited¡ªroast chicken, mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, a fresh salad, and a loaf of warm bread, complemented by bowls of gravy and sauces.


    Conversation flowed easily at the table, with Luca and Ansel sharing lighthearted stories. Mrs. Rennick asked about Ansel''s fianc¨¦e and whether wedding preparations were underway.


    "Everything is going fine," Ansel replied, sharing a few anecdotes about his personal life.


    Everyone encouraged Sara to join in the conversation, but she preferred to stay quiet, eating while scrolling through her phone. Her silence didn''t disrupt the flow of the meal, and the dinner continued smoothly. By 7 p.m., they had finished eating and indulged in a rich chocolate cake with coffee for dessert.


    At 7:30, Luca bid Ansel farewell. Though he offered to let Ansel stay the night, his teammate politely declined, explaining it wasn''t part of his plans. An hour later, Sara also left, driving back to her hotel in Fulham.


    Luca was left alone with his mother and sister. After seeing them off, he locked the door and went upstairs to one of the spare rooms. His mother, ever thoughtful, had ensured there were plenty of rooms available should he ever decide to stay¡ªa possibility she no doubt hoped for.


    The room was sparse yet tidy, with just the basics: a white mattress, a closet, a nightstand, a table, and a chair. It reminded Luca of a typical middle schooler''s bedroom.


    Luca checked the time¡ªit was just a few minutes to nine. He took a quick, refreshing bath before sitting down to watch some past races. His scheme wasn''t over yet; Mr. Grant''s directives and the System''s requirements were still in play, so Luca immersed himself in the essence of Formula 1 to stay sharp.


    When sleepiness began to take over, Luca closed his laptop and stepped out of the room. His OCD kicked in, compelling him to check every door and window in the house to ensure they were securely shut before finally retiring to bed.


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 Chapter 88 Home For A Moment 3

    [SYSTEM ONLINE..][Host should begin Daily Routine.]


    It felt strange getting up from a bed that wasn''t the same as the one in the TR headquarters. Luca sat upright, drank some water, and meditated. When he was done, he walked to the table, grabbed his toothbrush, and attended to his teeth.


    He had hung a new set of tracksuit before going to bed. Unhooking it from the closet, Luca got dressed as quickly as possible, sitting at the edge of his bed to lace his sneakers.


    There was a soft knock on the door, but the knocker quickly realized Luca had left it open and slipped inside as quietly as possible. Luca turned sharply, his eyes catching sight of his sister stealthily entering his room. "What are you doing here, Sophia?" he asked, adjusting the lace into the tucks of his joggers.


    Sophia pressed a finger to her lips. "Shh. Don''t say my name. Mom told me not to disturb you."


    Luca''s nose twitched as the smell of something cooking drifted from the kitchen. "Why''s she cooking so early?"


    "For you, of course," Sophia replied, casually wandering around the room. She caught sight of Luca''s golden trophy peeking out of his duffel bag and hurried over to it. She picked it up, examining it closely. "Is it real gold?"


    "Not really. I don''t think so."


    Sophia''s fingers traced the intricate design of the trophy. "Where will you keep it? Here, at home?"


    Luca paused for a moment, considering. He''d decided long ago that he would leave the trophy at home, even though it wasn''t the most valuable thing in the world. Winning a Grand Prix was just one of many victories he planned to have. "Yeah, I''ll leave it here. Make sure you take good care of it and polish it. Maybe put it on the shelf next to the TV," he suggested, knowing Sophia would appreciate it far more than he did.


    Sophia nodded and gently placed the trophy on the table. "So, when are you going back to Germany?" she asked.


    "A week or two," Luca replied. "Don''t worry, I''m staying here for a while, and I''ll hang out with you guys a lot."


    Sophia''s eyes softened, but she hesitated before speaking again. "That''s nice, but... you won''t be able to attend my graduation, right?"


    Luca froze, holding his MP3 player in one hand and the earpiece in the other. He blinked, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "You''re graduating, aren''t you?"


    Sophia let out a quiet sigh. "Yes. That''s what I''m saying. It''s just... it''s sad, because, like two years ago, during yours, I never expected you to be absent from mine."


    Luca fell silent. The realization slowly hit him. He''d completely forgotten Sophia was graduating this year, someone he was even prepping for college. He quickly asked her for the date, only to discover her graduation fell just a week before his training was scheduled to resume in Germany. He was supposed to be at the headquarters on that day¡ªDay 3 of training, not attending a graduation ceremony.


    Luca sighed. He wondered how bad Sophia might feel looking back at her pictures to see his absence in her graduation photos. As a teenager, his graduation was one of the best days of his life, and he was sure it''d be the same for Sophia, considering her character.


    A thought crossed his mind. Maybe he could ask Mr. Grant, and more importantly, Mr. Fisher, for a couple of extra days in London. After the graduation, he could fly out and get back on track with his training. It wasn''t much, but it was better than nothing.


    "Don''t worry, I''ll be there," Luca said, clipping his MP3 player onto his tracksuit.


    "Really?!"


    "Yes," he replied, slipping his earpiece into place.


    Sophia rushed over to him, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. "That''s wonderful! Make sure you wear an all-black suit and shades¡ªblack shades, okay? And arrive in the same car you came in yesterday. Oh, and don''t come early, and definitely don''t come late. Just be there right on time, okay?"


    "Okay, whatever you say," Luca said, gently pushing her toward the door. "Now, if you don''t mind, my PA is waiting for me outside."


    Sophia continued talking as she walked out of the room. The smell of food from the kitchen grew stronger, wafting through the house. From the kitchen, Mrs. Rennick''s voice rang out, sharp and clear. "Did I not tell you not to disturb your brother?!"


    "Tell Mom I''m off; I''ll be back in an hour," Luca said, slipping out of the front door. Once he was on the doorstep, the cold morning air hit him sharply. The rain from the night before had left everything wet¡ªthe neatly trimmed bushes glistened, and the neighbor''s roofs were slick with water. Luca quickly spotted Sara''s car across the road and jogged toward it, his bag swinging in his hand as he made his way across the street.


    Upon arriving, Luca noticed it wasn''t Sara behind the wheel, but his agent, Mallow, wearing his usual shades and an oversized, bogus coat.


    "What... are you doing here?" Luca asked immediately.


    "I borrowed Sara''s ride for a bit," Mallow said with a shrug, looking at Luca over the top of his shades. "And where exactly do you think you''re going, young man?"


    "I gym every morning."


    "Well, you''re not gymming this morning."


    "What? I don''t understand."


    Mallow rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You''re seeing your family after three months, and you want to hit the gym the very next morning?"


    "Is... there a problem with that?"


    "Have you even eaten?" Mallow asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "No, I''ll eat when I''m back. My mom''s cooking. She''s making pancakes and eggs, I think," Luca said, recalling the aroma.


    Behind his shades, Mallow''s eyes widened in disbelief. He quickly scrambled out of the car. "Do you have a screw loose, lad? Your mom''s cooking that breakfast, and you want to leave the house?!"


    Luca stood dumbfounded, his eyes flicking to the top of his System interface that had just materialized, reminding him of the start time for his exercise phase. He had mere minutes left.


    "Back inside," Mallow commanded, grabbing a file from the dashboard before locking the car with a quick press of the key.


    "Oh, c''mon. This is not fair."


    "You can spare today!" Mallow said, waving the file as he strode casually across the street. "Besides, we need to go over this."


    Luca sighed, glancing both ways twice before crossing the road before him.


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    [Daily Routine abandoned]


    Before Mallow could reach the front door, it swung open to reveal Mrs. Rennick, apron-clad and looking like an older version of Sophia. Her sharp eyes landed on Mallow, and she quickly recognized him.


    "Good morning, madam. I just stopped your son from sneaking out to avoid your cooking," Mallow said, gesturing toward Luca, who had just stepped onto the porch.


    "Lukey?!"


    "Mom, don''t listen to him. Let''s get inside," Luca said quickly, nudging Mallow through the doorway.


    Once they settled in the living room, Mrs. Rennick returned with a tray laden with breakfast, enough to satisfy even the hungriest guest. Mallow''s eyes lit up, already savoring the sight. As Luca predicted, the meal included stacks of fluffy pancakes drizzled with maple syrup and golden scrambled eggs topped with chives. There were crispy bacon strips and buttery croissants on the side, accompanied by tall glasses of orange juice.


    As soon as Mrs. Rennick left them to eat, Luca quickly turned his attention to the file Mallow had brought.


    "Remember Mrs. Hawthorne?" Mallow asked, sliding the file across the table.


    "Yes."


    Mallow leaned back, watching as Luca picked up the file, taking a bite of eggs and bacon as he flipped it open. Removing his shades to focus, Mallow continued, "That''s everything about her establishments across the country¡ªher public shares, investments, and assets. I wanted you to know all this before we agree on terms and sign anything."


    Luca skimmed through the documents, his interest growing with every line his eyes covered. The woman was a formidable figure with an extensive network of establishments across England. Widowed for over a decade, she had transformed her late husband''s modest ranch in Norfolk into a thriving equestrian center. The file detailed her ownership of luxury hotel and restaurant chains in Birmingham and Liverpool. Her investments spanned boutique fashion stores, live shows, and painting galleries.


    To Luca, it was no surprise that a businesswoman like Mrs. Hawthorne, with her sharp eye for opportunities, had latched onto a sport like Formula 1, which was steadily becoming the world''s number one. It made sense, especially considering she was intent on backing an F2 driver, just in case things didn''t go as planned.


    "Impressive, right?" Mallow asked, swallowing another bite of food.


    "€520 million in net worth? Impressive doesn''t even begin to cover it," Luca replied, tucking the file back into the bag. He took a sip of his orange juice, leaning back in his chair to relax. "So, when do we meet her in an official atmosphere?"


    "She''s eager to wrap this up by the end of the week, so I''m thinking we head to Birmingham tomorrow," Mallow said, finishing his meal.


    "Birmingham? Tomorrow?" Luca raised an eyebrow, caught off guard.


    "Yeah, her head office is there. And tomorrow''s the best day to finalize things before your schedule gets any busier," Mallow explained. "The midseason might be called a break, but you and I know it''s far from that."


    "I just got here. I can''t travel a day later."


    "Exactly why I told you not to go to the gym this morning. Come on! Spend time with your family. Chat with your mother! Play Barbie dolls with your sister¡ªdoes she even have school today?"


    Luca frowned, taking a moment to process Mallow''s absurd suggestion. "My sister''s sixteen, and no, she doesn''t have school today. Graduation''s coming up soon," he muttered.


    "Even better!" Mallow said with a grin. "Help her pick out a prom outfit! Everything can be done in under 24 hours, mate."


    Luca stared, unimpressed.


    Mallow wiped his mouth clean, plucked a strawberry from the table, and grabbed the file. "Now, go call your mom, let me thank her, and then I''ll take my leave. You, me, and Sara are heading to Birmingham by 2 tomorrow."

 Chapter 89 Home For A Moment 4

    Around 2 p.m., Luca left home and took a cab to the team''s facility. He felt restless staying at home and wanted to check in with the team to see how they were spending their break.The atmosphere at the Trampos facility was lively. Some team members had ventured out to enjoy the city, with Victor and Haas among them. Others stayed back, taking advantage of the recreational activities offered on-site. To Luca''s relief, he spotted Ansel in the courtyard, engaged in a spirited tennis match with McCauley.


    The common area buzzed with energy as crew members, dressed in relaxed attire, shared stories and laughter. The backdrop of booming hip-hop music added to the cheerful mood. Luca, who considered himself a decent table tennis player, grabbed a paddle and joined the lineup, waiting for his turn to play. He spent the next few hours immersed in conversations, unwinding with the team until the sun began to set.


    Before he could even offer, Ansel asked if he could have dinner at his home again, and this time, sleep over. Luca readily agreed, calling his mother to let her know to prepare food for four. They left the facility together, stepping out into the crisp evening air as the sky hinted at rain. They flagged down a cab to Clapham, the ride filled with conversation about Luca''s new potential endorser, Mrs. Hawthorne. Ansel listened, wide-eyed. Though he lived in the Deutschland, he had heard of the powerful businesswoman''s empire. To see Luca getting such attention was remarkable.


    When they arrived, a light drizzle began to fall. Mrs. Rennick greeted them warmly, her face lighting up as she welcomed her son and his friend. She embraced them and took Ansel''s duffel bag with a smile.


    "Be careful with that, ma''am. There''s something valuable in there," Ansel said.


    "Don''t worry, dear, I''ve got it," she replied, guiding them into the living room where Sophia was sitting cross-legged on the couch, half-watching the TV while scrolling on her phone. Luca was glad she was at home by this time and not somewhere unknown.


    Luca waved her off, and she moved to the dining table without protest. A few minutes later, Mrs. Rennick returned, carrying a lighter but hearty dinner spread. Plates of grilled chicken, fresh garden salad, and warm rolls were laid out, complemented by a bowl of seasoned rice and a pitcher of lemonade.


    When dinner was done, Ansel revealed why his bag was so precious.


    "Wait. You brought the PlayStation?"


    "Of course I did. Now connect it, it''s your house this time," Ansel said with a grin.


    Luca chuckled and quickly connected the console to the living room TV. Within moments, the room came alive with animated sounds and theme music.


    After an hour of gaming, the post-dinner drowsiness set in. The combination of a full stomach and friendly competition left them both stifling yawns. Sensing this, Mrs. Rennick swiftly prepared the guest room for Ansel, ensuring he was comfortable. By 9 p.m., everyone retired for the night, the house settling into a peaceful silence.


    The following morning, Luca''s System chimed, signaling the start of a new day.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE]


    [Host should begin Daily Routine]


    There was no stopping Luca this time. He was accustomed to this for three months now, and he wasn''t sure he would feel confident before Mrs. Hawthorne and her lawyers if he didn''t hit the gym and exercise like he did everyday. The gym had become more than a physical routine for him¡ªit was a mental anchor. The rush of endorphins and the structured intensity of his workout infused him with a sense of control and readiness.


    Just as Luca had planned, he and Ansel would be hitting the gym together in case Mr. Mallow decided to swoop in and prevent him from going. With Ansel, it''d be two to one and Mallow would be able to do nothing.


    Smiling, Luca woke up Ansel and they got dressed, leaving the house unnoticed and back to the facility.


    On arriving at the facility''s gym, Luca shifted to a personal space, strapped a headband and awaited his System''s new recommendation of Advanced Bundle daily exercise.


    [Retrieving...]


    [... Successfully Retrieved]


    [5:30 HYDRATION & MEDITATION: Host will get out of bed and stretch to loosen his muscles. Taking a full glass of water will kickstart your metabolism. Afterwards, you will sit quietly for a few moments. By breathing deeply, you will help release all forms of stress.]


    [6:00 WORKOUT & GROOMING: Your daily workout includes Power Burpees, HIIT with Plyometric Push-Ups, Jump Squats, advanced core work (Hanging Leg Raises, Oblique V-Ups), Bulgarian Split Squats, and weighted Lunges. Flexibility training features full yoga sequences and deep stretches. Afterward, you''ll take a shower to refresh yourself.]


    [7:00 BREAKFAST & NUTRITION: A nutritious meal and more water to stay hydrated.]


    "This is close to Intermediate Bundle''s," Luca noted, getting ready to begin.


    [Yes, host.]


    In a jiffy he began the string of exercises that he would maintain until he levels up to Professional Bundle. Luca wondered what that had in store for him.


    Rising from the burpees, Luca transitioned seamlessly into HIIT with plyometric push-ups, exploding his muscles. Without pausing, he dropped to the floor again, now into planks, holding steady as his core trembled before shifting into Russian twists. The intensity heightened with jump squats and Bulgarian split squats, his muscles burning with effort. He gave himself two minutes of rest before he powered through lunges, focusing on form and balance. Finally, he eased into yoga poses, stretching deeply to relax tension.


    [Workout completed]


    [Would host like to focus on Attributes?]


    [Y / N]


    Luca drank half a bottle of water. "I''ve forgotten the values. Let me see them again," he said.


    [Generating...]


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    [Strength: 16


    Stamina: 24


    Endurance: 22


    Agility: 20


    Intelligence: 18 ]


    "You had said something about a new skill when taking all to 20?" Luca asked.


    [Yes, host. Host unlocks a new skill when all Attributes reach 20, 30, 40 and 50 marks]


    Luca hummed to himself, his eyes settling on Strength and Intelligence, honing 16 and 18 respectively. He wondered why Intelligence hadn''t reached 20 up till now, when it had the highest value when he began. "System, can you calculate their rate of progress?"


    [Calculating...]


    [Strength¡ª 1.16% progress per session/race


    Stamina¡ª 1.91% progress per session/race


    Endurance¡ª 1.41% progress per session/race


    Agility¡ª 1.5% progress per session/race


    Intelligence¡ª 1.08% progress per session/race ]


    So, it''s obvious I grow Strength and Intelligence less, Luca thought as the yes and no query popped up again. What are the activities you''d likely assign for Intelligence? That quiz again?!


    [There are several host, System would collect data needed according to requirement]


    [Cognitive Speed Training is highly possible to be picked.]


    What about Strength? Luca asked, realizing he had never picked to focus on that Attribute.


    [Assessing...]


    "You know what?" Luca said, interrupting the System''s process. He had the rest of the day in mind, plus preparing to go to Birmingham with Mallow and Sara, he decided he''d have to do these activities later. "Just draft them out, and let me know later."


    [System will notify host once training activities have been successfully generated.]


    Luca left the gym area to go greet Ansel and the team. He left the facility some minutes later, literally dragging himself away from an intriguing discussion everyone had.


    When he arrived home, breakfast was already waiting for him. After a quick shower, he sat down and enjoyed his mother''s cooking. Between bites, he mentioned his upcoming trip to Birmingham that afternoon, explaining that he might be back in two or three days¡ªMallow had been vague about the timeline.


    Mrs. Rennick tried to appear supportive and understanding, but Luca could tell she was unsettled. He expressed his gratitude for the meal and headed to his room to pack just a few essentials. At 1 p.m. sharp, Mallow and Sara showed up, clad in their usual all-black attire, now paired with coats.

 Chapter 90 July Dreams For Luca

    The encounter with Mrs. Hawthorne and her team unfolded seamlessly. Luca, along with Sara and Mallow, arrived at an imposing, manor-like building nestled in the tranquil countryside of Birmingham. There, discussions with the vibrant, aged lady and her representatives took place. Mrs. Hawthorne outlined her ambitions with precision. She intended to introduce the Hawthorne name into Formula racing, beginning with the F2 series and expanding swiftly. The plan was to make calculated inroads that would bolster and spread her brand''s influence gradually yet radically. And if Luca ascended to F1, it would only amplify her chances of success.The offer she presented was exceptional, eclipsing even that of established sponsors like Fijee. For each podium finish, Luca would receive a $50,000 bonus, while a race victory would net him an additional $100,000. Finishing within the top five would secure him $500,000, and winning the championship would bring in a staggering $800,000. These bonuses alone surpassed what most firms could offer, making her proposal hard to refuse.


    However, the deal was structured as a one-year contract¡ªa calculated move on Mrs. Hawthorne''s part to safeguard her investment. She had no intention of risking her capital without guarantees, and the short-term nature of the agreement was designed to test Luca''s potential. Mallow, unfazed by these terms, was brimming with enthusiasm. The prospect of securing such a lucrative deal had him practically vibrating with energy, and he made it clear through subtle gestures to Luca that he had no choice but to sign.


    In return for these generous terms, Mrs. Hawthorne demanded that Luca build his entire career profile around the Hawthorne brand. This went beyond merely placing logos on his car or race suit. It meant full alignment with her vision¡ªendorsements, exclusive interviews, and public appearances that would tether his rising stardom directly to the Hawthorne name. It was more than a sponsorship, but more like an alliance that required Luca to align his image with Hawthorne''s vision.


    Even minor details, like exclusively using the Airphone¡ªa phone brand in which Hawthorne held a significant stake¡ªwere part of the agreement. It was a bold move on Mrs. Hawthorne''s part, and one that she was determined to make work to her advantage.


    Luca, understanding the stakes and the opportunity before him, agreed to the terms.


    The first phase of the contract was presented on the second day, and Luca signed without hesitation. The second phase, however, was to be revealed at a later date, pending thorough reviews of each clause and condition by all parties involved. The agreement''s complexity¡ªespecially the specifics surrounding race finishes and associated bonuses¡ªdemanded transparency. To ensure compliance and prevent future complications, Mrs. Hawthorne''s team would also need to formally inform the Federation about the deal with one of their feeder series drivers.


    Though Mrs. Hawthorne hadn''t offered a base salary, Luca couldn''t help but calculate the potential earnings if he managed to win all six remaining Featured Race Grands Prix. He would be swimming in millions.


    After the first day of meetings, while on transit through Birmingham, something caught Luca''s eye. Through the car window, he caught a glimpse of the Grey-Husson Academy. His curiosity piqued, he turned to Mallow.


    "How''s the place doing now?" Luca asked, wondering if Mallow knew anything about the academy''s current state or if there had been any new intakes.


    Mallow''s response came with a smug chuckle, as though he relished the news. "Oh, you haven''t heard? They''re shutting it down," he replied with another chuckle, clearly proud of himself for being the perpetuator behind that.


    Luca blinked in surprise. "Shutting down?"


    "Yeah. The place is a joke¡ªE-level facilities, subpar activities. The Federation pulled their license. And old man Schafer? He''s done with running any academy, or any Federation establishment for that matter," Mallow explained.


    "What?!" Luca exclaimed, stunned by the revelation about the turn of events.


    "Oh, yeah," Mallow said with a casual shrug. "They''re even investigating embezzlement of funds. Who thinks he''s guilty?" He raised a hand. "I do."


    Luca fell silent, his mind racing. That''s bad, he thought, recalling his experiences there. For all its flaws, the academy had been a part of his journey. To see it fall like this left him unsettled.


    It was these cacophony of thoughts that led Luca to hail a cab the second day and head to the grandeur facility. He instructed the cab driver to stop at the beginning of the long, tree-lined road leading up to the academy. The air was crisp and tinged with a faint earthy scent, and Luca, caught in a mix of nostalgia and unease, chose to walk the rest of the way.


    As he approached the entrance, he realized the gate was wide open, an unusual sight for a place that had once been tightly secured. Quickening his pace, he stepped into the grandeur academy. To his surprise, it wasn''t as eerily quiet as it had been in his memory. While the astonishing greenery and architectural exquisiteness remained, the serene atmosphere had been replaced by a flurry of activity. People in navy blue bustled about, moving with purpose, and their movements created a sense of urgency as if they were tearing the place down.


    Luca stood near the open fountain, unnoticed amidst the commotion. He stared in awe at the trucks and vans stationed around the property as equipments and boxes were loaded into them.


    Conversations overlapped the scene Luca was witnessing, furniture, stacks of files and computer systems being carried out. The Federation''s signage and plaques were removed. Two men even passed him with an extremely long ladder. Luca''s best guess was that they were removing the G banner outside.


    Wow. So, it is true.


    Amidst the chaos, his gaze locked onto someone stepping out of the main building, weaving through workers and casting sharp, hateful looks. As she stepped into the open, her eyes instantly landed on Luca standing by the fountain, and they widened in surprise.


    Wow. Isabella? What''s she doing here? Straightening up instinctively, he noticed her glance around quickly. Without hesitation, she began making her way toward him.


    Without preamble, Isabella demanded to know why he was there. "And you''ve been ignoring my messages," she added, her tone barely masking her frustration.


    Luca''s mind raced. He was certain he''d sent the last message, but now he wondered if he had missed her reply. According to her, he hadn''t. "It''s just been work. I''ll respond when I get home."


    "Don''t bother," she said, her gaze flicking around the chaotic scene. "Since you''re here, I might as well tell you everything in person."


    Feigning ignorance about the situation, Luca let her explain the full story of what was happening at Grey-Husson''s. He wanted every detail, just in case Mallow had left anything out. Isabella also revealed that she hadn''t made it to the college she had aimed for and had found herself back in England to comfort her grieving father, who had recently lost his license.


    With nothing to say, Luca only put in a "sorry." His mind churned with ideas about what to do next as she stood there, arms folded, looking around while still facing him. All his ideas played out in his mind and resulted in horrible outcomes.


    He cursed inwardly, deciding to push past his hesitation.


    "I could take you out on a date if that would cheer you up," he blurted, biting his tongue.


    Isabella''s lips pressed together as she tried to suppress a smile, her cheeks flushing red. Unlike Luca, she couldn''t mask her emotions so easily. "I can''t believe YOU are asking me out," she said slowly, drawing out the words.


    Luca waited patiently for a real reply.


    "I''d love to." sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That''s great."


    "But my father won''t approve."


    Luca frowned, swallowing hard. He wondered why there''d have to be ''buts''. "Why?" he asked calmly.


    "He''s made it clear that I can''t date until I''m 17, maybe even 18," Isabella admitted, avoiding his gaze as she looked toward the dismantled academy.


    Luca''s insides twisted with sudden confusion and disbelief. What kind of¡ª


    "I''ll be 17 in July," she added.


    This is mid-May. Two months away. Luca''s shoulders eased as the realization set in, and he nodded. "I''ll wait then," he said, his gaze shifting just in time to catch an unpleased Mr. Schafer emerging from the same building Isabella had come out of.


    Just as Isabella had met Luca''s gaze earlier, Mr. Schafer''s eyes immediately locked onto him. After a brief pause, they shifted to Isabella''s back, his expression unreadable but clearly not welcoming.


    Luca instinctively thought about raising a hand in greeting but hesitated, sensing it might only aggravate the man further. Instead, he quickly wrapped up the conversation, telling Isabella to send his regards to the man. Afterwards, he turned to leave, strolling out of the facility moments later. He glanced back a few times at her and the swirling chaos around the academy as the dismantling continued while he retraced his steps.


    Walking the same long road, Luca flagged down a cab and headed back to the hotel where he, Mallow, and Sara had been staying in Birmingham.

 Chapter 91 Grinding Through It All

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]They returned to London as swiftly as they had left for Birmingham.


    By the end of the week, it became evident to everyone in Trampos that their time in the city was nearing its conclusion, as the remainder of the midseason would unfold in Berlin.


    Fortune favored Luca when Mr. Fisher, Mrs. Doyle, and Mr. Grant approved his request for an additional four-day stay in London, allowing him to attend his sister''s graduation. He planned to take the first available public flight back to Berlin the morning after the ceremony.


    While the rest of the team prepared for their imminent departure at week''s end, Luca turned his attention to the regimen outlined by his System, zeroing in on activities designed to enhance his strength attribute.


    [Strength is crucial for you, as it provides the physical power needed to endure the intense demands of an F1 car over long races.]


    [Enhanced Strength ensures better control of the vehicle, supports sustained performance during high G-force conditions, and helps maintain optimal posture and stability under pressure.]


    [Today''s session will focus on Deadlifts, Squats and Overhead Press.]


    Alright, let''s go.


    [EXERCISE: DEADLIFTS]


    [EQUIPMENT: BARBELL AND WEIGHT PLATES]


    [Host is required to perform deadlifts with controlled, powerful movements, focusing on proper form to maximize strength gains and prevent injury.]


    [This exercise will be done for 4 sets of 8-10 reps, with gradual weight increases to build overall body strength, targeting the lower back, glutes, and hamstrings.]


    Luca scrambled to the other side of the gym area to grab the barbell and weight plates, eager to begin his session. He hurried back to his mat, sliding the weight plates onto each side with good focus. Wrapping his fingers tightly around the bar, he adjusted his stance carefully, preparing for the task ahead.


    With his feet shoulder-width apart and knees slightly bent, he took a deep breath, engaging his core as he lifted the barbell off the floor in one fluid motion. He paused when the barbell reached his hip level, because he could feel the strain ripple through his muscles before he lowered it with effective control. Lowering it slowly, Luca then repeated the motion, his mind locked on the System''s recommendations for achieving optimal progress this session. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    By the 4th and final set, Luca had added an extra 10kg weight plate to push himself further. He lifted with every ounce of strength he could summon, his muscles trembling under the strain. With a sharp exhale, he let the bar drop back onto the rack.


    [Good job, host. Moving on to the next]


    [EXERCISE: SQUATS]


    [EQUIPMENT: BARBELL AND SQUAT RACK]


    [Host will position the barbell across the shoulders and perform squats, focusing on depth and controlled movements to maximize lower body strength and core stability.]


    [This will be done for 4 sets of 12 reps, with short rests in between to maintain intensity and allow muscle recovery.]


    Luca took a deep breath, hoisted the barbell onto his shoulders, and stepped back. He lowered into a squat, his legs straining as he pushed through each rep. With controlled power, he drove himself upward, exhaling sharply. There was no hesitation in his rhythm, his focus fixed on completing the set and pushing his strength to its limit.


    At some point, Luca felt he couldn''t continue, his muscles ached and his face had turned red. The tension in his quad and glutens intensified to almost an unbearable level, while his thighs burned with power.


    With only two reps remaining, Luca made the tough call to gently lower the barbell, knowing a gym injury wasn''t worth the gamble. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath as his body trembled from the exertion.


    [Squats uncompleted; 2 Repetitions to go]


    [Proceed to the next?]


    [Y / N]


    Panting heavily, Luca dropped to his knees, allowing himself a brief moment of recovery. After a gulp of air, he selected "Yes."


    [Moving on to the next]


    [EXERCISE: OVERHEAD PRESS]


    [EQUIPMENT: BARBELL]


    [Host will position the barbell at shoulder height, then press it overhead in a controlled motion, focusing on full extension and core engagement to build upper body strength.]


    [This will be done for 4 sets of 10 reps, with short rests in between to maintain intensity and allow muscle recovery.]


    Oh my goodness, that''s wild!


    [Should System replace the activity?]


    "No, don''t worry," Luca replied, though part of him wished he''d said otherwise. With a deep breath, he grabbed the cold barbell once more, positioning it at shoulder height. He steadied himself, then pushed upward.


    Surprisingly, as he pushed through the reps, it wasn''t as difficult as he''d expected, though his muscles still strained with each movement. Midway through, that familiar chime of his System echoed, and a notification flashed in front of him.


    [Strength +1]


    That''s great, Luca mused, still pressing on. He focused on his breathing, locking in on his form as every push sent a jolt through his shoulders and arms. After the final repetition, he slowly lowered the barbell, his sweat pores yielding as he was drenched in sweat.


    "Don''t break your back!" McCauley yelled as he strolled past the gym area.


    [Good job, host. All activities assigned have been completed.]


    Luca nodded in acknowledgment, grabbing a towel to wipe away the evidence of his hard work. He knew he was locked into daily sessions with his System until his return to Berlin, and this was just the beginning.


    Luca took out his phone to answer messages, going straight to Isabella''s chat to reply. He noticed Sara had sent him a few pictures of buildings, telling him to choose the kind he''d like for his home.


    They weren''t bad at all, all of them were good, wonderful infact in Luca''s opinion. The first was a modern, sleek glass building with clean lines and a minimalistic design, set against a city skyline. The second was a more classic style, with stone facades and elegant arches, giving off a timeless, almost regal feel.


    Luca checked the price tags that were attached, and his mouth fell open. $6 million dollars?! $4.2 million dollars?! What is she thinking?!


    He quickly wiped the shock off his face and typed a message to Sara, explaining there was no way he could afford such expensive houses¡ªnot even close. While he wasn''t sure about his bank balance, he knew the numbers would never add up to buying or maintaining a property at that price.


    Hearing laughter and loud voices coming from the common area, Luca shut off his phone and wiped his face. Ignoring the strain in his muscles, he pushed himself to his feet and sprinted out of the gym, eager to join the team and catch up on whatever fun they were having.

 Chapter 92 Graduation Day

    Staying with the team in the facility until their day of departure, Luca returned home to Clapham, keeping in regular contact with Ansel and McCauley. He begged them to cut out any fun in his absence, staying updated on all progress and activities through frequent calls.During this time, he also helped his mother prepare for Sophia''s graduation, ensuring everything was in order and more. On the fateful day, Mrs. Rennick and Sophia left for her school early in the morning. With the house quiet, Luca took the opportunity to pack up all his belongings, neatly rolling them to the side of the room for easy access come daybreak.


    Afterwards, Luca took a nice shower, got dressed in clean underwear and the all-black suit Sophia had requested, putting on shades as well to finalize his look. He applied a hint of cologne, combed his hair into place, and paused briefly to check his reflection in the mirror.


    Once ready, he stepped outside, locking the door behind him. On the curb, Sara was already waiting in her car. True to her punctual nature, she had arrived early. Luca slid into the passenger seat, buckled his seatbelt, and greeted her with a casual smile.


    Sara started the engine, guiding the car out of the neighborhood and onto the main road, heading toward Sophia''s school.


    "I gave you three options for a house, and you said they were too expensive," Sara remarked, breaking the silence as they merged into traffic.


    Luca laughed. "And they weren''t? If they''re so reasonable, why aren''t you living in one yourself?"


    "Urrgh. You said you wanted somewhere quiet and convenient. I was just narrowing down the choices after you couldn''t decide from the gallery I sent you."


    "Fine. But isn''t there anything cheaper?" Luca asked.


    "It''s an investment," Sara reasoned. "We don''t have millions to drop on a house, so we take it step by step, see how the race season goes with your bonuses, and reassess by year''s end." She bit her lower lip. "Honestly, I''m even starting to second-guess this whole house thing."


    "Really? Why?" Luca questioned.


    Sara briefly took one hand off the wheel to gesture as she spoke. "What if you make it into the first division after this season and your new team isn''t based in Germany? That house would become a burden. The goal is to make it to F1, right?" sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca rubbed his chin thoughtfully as they drove into North Kensington. He remembered there was really no popular German F1 team. "You''ve got a point," he admitted. "So, what''s it going to be?"


    Sara shrugged. "Let''s just buy you a house. You can''t be homeless, Luca. And if the time comes, we can always sell it. Besides, it wouldn''t hurt to have property overseas."


    Luca nodded again as her words trailed off, his gaze drifting to the familiar streets around them. The neighborhoods stirred a wave of nostalgia, reminding him of his family''s earlier days. They were driving through the region he used to live with his mother and sister.


    They arrived at Westborough High a few moments later, a surge of nostalgia hitting Luca as he remembered his school. The premises sure looked like a graduation event; the sight of decorations and banners with small gatherings of proud families said it all.


    As Sara pulled into the parking lot, Luca quickly called his mother to let her know he''d arrived right when Sophia wanted. The faint, indistinct voice over a microphone hinted that the event was already underway.


    Grateful for the cover his shades provided and aware that his growing mustache might make him look a bit different, Luca stepped out of the car with a confident stride. He scanned the open area filled with rows of seats facing a decorated podium. People moved around, some casually seated as if the ceremony was already over. Luca exhaled, dialing his mother again to find out their exact location. The last thing he wanted was to run into a familiar teacher, an old classmate, or even a junior who might recognize him. He preferred to keep his presence under the radar, though he had no doubt Sophia had already broadcasted that her brother, an F2 driver, was attending.


    Sara locked the car and followed Luca to where Mrs. Rennick had directed. Luca kept close to time as he settled in a seat in between Sara and his mother. Sure enough, he did recognize a lot of people. And he was sure they recognized him too. A lot of glances were shot his way, but no one approached, save for his mother''s own friends who were parents as well.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm round of applause for our graduating class as they come forward to receive their diplomas..."


    A wave of applause swept through the crowd as parents, including Mrs. Rennick, stood up to honor the graduates. The graduating class moved across the stage, and Luca''s eyes immediately found Sophia. Her black and blue gown complemented her brown skin perfectly, and her radiant smile sparkled even from a distance.


    Luca got to realize that the diploma presentation was the final official act of the ceremony. Next would come the casual parts of refreshments, photographs, and goodbyes. A happy Sophia stepped off stage and returned to her family, certificate clutched in hand.


    They headed out to a shade under the tree for light refreshments while Sophia still cheered with her mates. Exchanging pleasantries with some of his mother''s friends, Luca hurried a photographer and called Sophia to the photo lane.


    An hour later, Sara excused herself, needing to catch up on work that couldn''t be done from a crowded, noisy venue. Luca nodded in agreement, understanding her departure. He busied himself with his phone as the crowd thinned and the post-ceremony buzz began to wind down.


    As 5 p.m. approached, Luca felt a twinge of impatience, not wanting to deal with the late evening rush. He gathered his mother and called Sophia to regroup. Once the family was together, they made their way to Mrs. Rennick''s car and drove out of the school lot.


    Realizing that cooking dinner at this hour would be exhausting for his mother, Luca suggested they stop at a restaurant to celebrate properly. The idea was met with approval, adding to the joy of Sophia''s special day. They pulled up at St. Remy''s, a well-known spot in the area. Luca placed orders that catered to everyone''s taste while carefully selecting a dish that would align with his strict training diet. Mrs. Rennick, always mindful of waste, packed some leftovers, and Sophia, still clad in her graduation gown, began to show signs of fatigue and sleep.


    They arrived home a little past 7 p.m., and within the hour, both women had retreated to their rooms for the night. Luca, however, remained awake until 9 p.m., tuned into the Motorsport channel on the TV. He searched for any updates that hadn''t yet appeared on his F1 app but found only analysis pieces discussing Marko Ignatova''s incredible overtake against Marcellus Rodnick during the British Grand Prix.


    Still restless, Luca turned to his training regimen, this time, reviewing race footage from the past three seasons. After immersing himself in the details of each race, he wrapped up his night with a shower and his usual night routine around the house. With his mind focused and ready, Luca climbed into bed, prepared to return to Berlin and continue his career, his pursuit for ultimate victory.

 Chapter 93 Back In Berlin

    [Daily Routine abandoned]Luca decided to skip the gym, knowing he had an early flight to catch with Sara. Before it was even 5 a.m., he was already prepared, his suitcase rolled into the living room. Sophia was still asleep, but his mother was already bustling about. When he had mentioned leaving early the other day, she had hoped to match his pace and make something nice for him to eat before he left.


    Luca gently stopped his mother from her flurry of activity, knowing she wouldn''t have time to prepare anything suitable for his diet. "I''ll go off track just for today and have cereal," he said with a smile. Relieved, Mrs. Rennick quickly filled a bowl with cereal, adding extra milk and fruit, and watched as Luca ate.


    Just as he was finishing up, Sara called to say she was only a few blocks away from the neighborhood. Luca gulped down some water, rinsed his plate, and wiped his hands dry. He hugged his mother tightly for goodbye. "Take care of yourself and Sophia. She''s not a kid anymore, but still, keep an eye on her. And please, only reach out when it''s really important," he said, grabbing his duffel bag in one hand and rolling his travel bag with the other. "I''ll see you both whenever I can. I doubt there''ll be another GP here in the UK soon, and I don''t want you traveling to watch me race unless it''s a nearby country, okay?"


    Mrs. Rennick nodded, her eyes full of pride and worry. She watched as Luca stepped out of the house just as Sara''s car pulled up to the curb. Luca waved one last goodbye before hurrying to the car. He tossed his travel bag into the backseat and climbed into the front with his duffel. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Greeting Sara, he pulled out his MP3 player and earpiece before tossing the duffel bag to the back as well.


    Sara returned the greeting, drove to the end of the neighborhood, reversed, and passed by the house again on her way out of the street.


    The flight was scheduled for 5:30 a.m., and they arrived well on time. It took two hours to get to Berlin, the early morning sun rising bright with a warm glow as they disembarked the plane. Luca and Sara had a proper breakfast at a cozy diner before parting ways.


    Wasting no time, Luca made his way to Trampos Racing''s headquarters, situated in the bustling sub-metropolis of Berlin.


    The large gates swung open as he approached, and Luca found himself surrounded by the familiar scene of garages, tools, and neatly stacked tires. He was back in his element¡ªthe atmosphere he needed to feel grounded.


    One of the gate security personnel patted him on the back and offered to escort him further into the property. Luca was glad to see the crew again. Though it was a Saturday, there were still staff bustling about, a full testament to how the sport had become an inseparable part of their lives. Ansel and Haas were absent, but Victor was present, greeting Luca warmly.


    After catching up with Victor and engaging in a few quick discussions with the team, Luca made his way to his accommodation to settle in once more.


    It was a bright day there in Berlin, completely different from the current atmosphere in London. Luca''s room was as he had left it, the sunlight streaming through the window like always, and illuminating the neatly made bed. He sat at the edge of the mattress, unclipping his MP3 player and carefully folding his earpiece before slipping it into the side pocket of his duffel bag.


    He paused for a moment, letting the silence settle around him like an old friend. Then, he got up and began unpacking. The clothes he brought joined the rest in the closet, his shoes tucked neatly underneath. His supplements were placed on the tabletop beside his laptop, which sat ready in front of the chair.


    With everything in place, Luca changed into a gray Veststar T-shirt and matching joggers. He secured a red headband around his head and slid a red wristband onto his right wrist. His Catapult watch gleamed on his left wrist as he pocketed his phone.


    Following the instructions he had received back in London, Luca was to meet with Mr. Fisher as soon as he arrived. Luckily, the president was available, and Luca felt a surge of eagerness to wrap up the meeting quickly.


    He met with Mr. Fisher, the ever-jovial entrepreneur, and their conversation flowed for an hour as if they were longtime partners. The discussion was lively, filled with insights and updates that painted a clear picture of the changes made during the brief midseason break.


    Mr. Fisher explained that he and Mrs. Doyle had worked tirelessly to bolster Trampos Racing, implementing changes and additions designed to elevate the team''s performance and competitiveness from the inside out. One of the most significant developments was the hiring of a new strategic team to support Mr. Grant, Mr. Moritz, and their engineering crew. This initiative aimed to fortify the team''s tactical approach and enhance their overall potential for success.


    At the helm of this new strategic team was Ms. Marthe Vallotton, a seasoned French strategist who had carved out an impressive career in Formula 2. Her most recent tenure was with Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr., the junior squad of one of the most renowned Formula 1 powerhouses. Despite the team''s prestige, they had recently onboarded even more acclaimed talent, prompting Ms. Vallotton to seek fresh challenges. Trampos Racing seized the opportunity and welcomed her expertise, along with her select team of specialists.


    Luca''s eyes lit up at the news, and he expressed his enthusiasm about working with the new sub-management, hopeful that these changes would propel the team toward greater success as they tackled the remainder of the season.


    After exchanging final pleasantries, Luca departed Mr. Fisher''s office and made his way back to the base below. The garage was abuzz with activity, and though Mr. Grant was absent, Mr. Moritz was present, meticulously overseeing the engineers as they worked around the few cars Trampos had.


    Mr. Moritz quickly caught the glint of anticipation in Luca''s eyes and chuckled knowingly. "You''ll have to wait a little while, mate. We''re making adjustments to the recovery systems and testing the aero package. It''ll take some time before you can get in one today, alright?"


    "No problem," Luca replied, finding a spot in the bleachers to settle down. To pass the time while the crew worked, he turned his attention to his phone.

 Chapter 94 Audacious Changes & Strategies

    At 10 a.m. on Monday morning, Trampos Racing headquarters was filled with bustling activity. All staff members from every department and all drivers were present. Four days remained until the Hungarian Grand Prix of that season, and every session mattered as the midseason break was officially over.Hungarian Grand Prix


    Location: Budapest, Hungary


    Date: Jun. 8


    Track: Hungaro Ring


    Luca was eager to race in Hungary, especially on its stunning circuit. It was one of the most depicted circuits in videogames alongside the likes of Las Vegas'' Stip, aka. Neonway, Peakburn, Mandalora, and a few others. To Luca, the Hungaroring felt like a stadium of its own. It had definite boundaries and steel walls that soared up to a hundred feet tall, obstructing any view from the surrounding cityscape. That way, only the spectators within the premises could know what was happening.


    As a 5km circuit with 62 laps, the track promised tough but thrilling competition. Featuring eight corners per lap and a prominent 1.2 km straight, Luca saw plenty of opportunities to capitalize on its unique layout.


    Aware that he had a Pole Position at his disposal, Luca was determined to hone good defensive abilities while capitalizing on any opportunity for an extra surge and gap extension. Most of the activities carried out today in the headquarters mirrored that determination under the warm, bright sun shining over the small practice track.


    Ms. Vallotton was as no-nonsense as Mr. Grant, if not more so. Luca and Ansel believed she had become the true feldwebel of the team. Her management style was sharp and calculated, leaving little room for casual interactions or camaraderie. She relied heavily on the trusted group she had brought with her, delegating her directives to them for precise execution. It amused Luca that, despite her imposing demeanor, she still reported to Mr. Grant and was under his authority. In many ways, Ms. Vallotton embodied the role of a de facto Deputy Team Principal or Vice Principal.


    Throughout the week prior and the corresponding weekend, Ms. Vallotton and Mr. Grant had spent considerable time together as Principal and vice. Aware that the French lady had profound knowledge of good strategies that was likely passed on from the F1 team Bueseno Velocit¨¤ to their junior team, Mr. Grant trusted her to offer the best recommendations and often heeded her advice. Perhaps this trust and reliance explained her domineering demeanor. She was basically a better manager than Mr. Grant after all.


    In one of their discussions, Ms. Vallotton confidently outlined her views on how the Trampos drivers should be organized for each race.


    Under Mr. Grant''s typical management structure, Denko Rutherford had always been the primary driver, which was a common setup in any motorsport team. As the main driver, the responsibility for securing race success and crucial points rested on his shoulders. The main driver''s finishing position was paramount, reflecting their skill and the overall team standing, bolstered by their higher level of experience.


    With Denko''s permanent departure, Ansel Hahn had naturally stepped into the role of the main driver for Trampos Racing. His reliable participation in each round of the season, coupled with consistently decent results, had solidified his status as the team''s primary driver.


    However, Ms. Vallotton''s proposal sought to upend this structure. Her suggestion caught Mr. Grant off guard, as she advocated for a new strategy where Luca Rennick would become the primary driver for Trampos Racing. Ansel, while not formally relegated to a secondary position, would instead assume a supporting role, one that was slightly subordinate. The core of her argument was that Luca''s standings and race priorities should take precedence over Ansel''s.


    Ms. Vallotton''s last race in charge of Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr had been back in early April, during the Monaco Grand Prix, one of the rare night races in Stellar. In that race, Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr''s Max Addams had finished 4th, and Ms. Vallotton could vividly recall the frustration that echoed through their radio in the final laps. When Max had dared to believe P3 was within reach after falling back to a tenacious Miles Bellingham, it was Luca Rennick who had seized the moment. He capitalized on every second, showcasing the very qualities Ms. Vallotton was now emphasizing to Mr. Grant.


    "In this sport, we have drivers with audacity, right? The audacity to dive into that sharp corner, pushing your limits before the next lap even begins. The audacity to drift on the edge, burning through those tires just for the thrill of it. The audacity to ignore caution, to take risks when others hesitate. It''s a common thing, especially in the first division, I''d say. But the audacity to max out your SomberCore speed while navigating corners¡ªthat''s something I rarely see, Mr. Grant. Yet Luca has made me see it more than once this season," she said.


    Mr. Grant voiced his concerns about Ms. Vallotton''s proposal for a new strategy and team structure. He had hoped for a progression that mirrored the traditional route many teams followed. His vision involved Ansel advancing to F1 first, with Luca naturally stepping into the leadership role after Ansel''s departure. However, as Ms. Vallotton laid out her reasoning, Mr. Grant''s unease only deepened.


    Luca''s current program was specifically designed to mold him into an exceptional primary driver, but Mr. Grant had anticipated that this evolution would take time, allowing Ansel to continue leading in the interim. However, with Ansel''s recent dip in performance, Mr. Grant questioned whether he could still justify ranking Ansel on the same level as Luca¡ªor even slightly below.


    The situation felt wrong to him, as though it disrupted the traditional handover of leadership he had envisioned.


    Ms. Vallotton, however, was quick to remind him of the realities of the sport.


    "There''s a reason there are the Team Standings and the Driver''s Standings," Ms. Vallotton continued with a sharp, assertive tone. "We, the team, structure our drivers in whatever way best serves us¡ªthe team¡ªand our success. The drivers, on the other hand, will do their utmost to excel within the framework and strategy we set for them, striving for their own success in the top five. If they''re not happy with the structure, the gates are open for them to find another team. It''s happened plenty of times before, Mr. Grant. Now, that''s tradition."


    This no-nonsense rationale was precisely why Mr. Grant had brought Ms. Vallotton and her strategy group onboard. As a Team Principal, her words resonated with him, and he looked forward to further deliberating on the matter. Rated 3.7 stars as she was under the Federation ratings, they might not just be suggestions and might end up being the solution. But Mr. Grant was happy to keep his mind open.


    In the weeks and months ahead, with the results from Hungary and Spain serving as key indicators, Mr. Grant would deliver his final verdict on a new coordination and strategy to avoid future setbacks.


    For now, however, the team adhered to its existing structure, resuming drills and programs. As the assembled cars gleamed under the bright lights and the property swarmed with figures clad in red, the telemetry room quietly recorded every session.


    S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 95 Budapests Resolve

    By late morning, around 10 a.m., the team disembarked from their plane after touching down in Budapest. Unlike previous trips, they now carried more team members per flight and had even started considering dual passenger flights to accommodate their growing numbers. Sitting at the top of the standings, life was considerably easier for Mr. Fisher''s Trampos Racing. They had managed to retain many of their sponsors who had once threatened to leave, thanks to their strong performance and a promising young driver securing valuable benefits.Luca noticed that Jackson Racing had arrived at roughly the same time, landing at the same airport. He had a clear view of their crew and drivers, not by chance, but because airport officials prioritized honoring the prestigious F1 team over the thriving F2 team, despite Trampos Racing having landed first.


    Luca caught sight of Marcellus Rodnick and his young teammate, Buoso Di Rienzo. Both walked with confidence, squinting under the bright sun and waving to the small crowd of fans who had gathered to greet them.


    Luca couldn''t help but wonder if Di Rienzo was stepping into Rodnick''s shoes, just as Rodnick had once done for Marco Rossi. As reigning F1 champions, Jackson Racing had plenty to uphold and defend.


    Once Jackson Racing had departed in their seven buses and a massive truck¡ªeach vehicle gleaming in silvery black and blue¡ªthe airport officials finally turned their attention to Trampos Racing.


    An hour later, Trampos Racing left the airfield, their passenger bus rolling into the heart of the city. The bus diverted briefly for a short sightseeing tour of Budapest, showcasing its beauty. Much like in Baku, Azerbaijan, Budapest seemed to embrace the motorsport spirit with fervor, as preparations for weekend festivals were already in full swing.


    "Wow," Luca whispered to himself, his eyes fixed on a striking monument as the bus cruised by. On Gell¨¦rt Hill stood the Liberty Statue, as their hired tour guide had described. The eye-catching bronze statue, perched on a pedestal, depicted a woman holding a palm leaf aloft. According to their guide, it symbolized freedom and triumph¡ªa powerful reminder of the nation''s rich and complex history. To Luca, it looked strikingly similar to the greenish-blue woman featured at the start of every American movie he''d been watching lately.


    "Damn! I wish I had a camera," Luca muttered, pulling out his phone as a substitute. He thought that with a proper camera, he could capture these moments more perfectly.


    "Ah, drop it off, mate," said McCauley, seated beside him. "You''re a driver. You know you''ll travel so often that these sights won''t mean a thing after a while, right?"


    "I guess so," Luca replied, lowering his phone. His eyes instinctively darted to Ansel, who was intently observing the cityscape that seemed to echo the grandeur of ancient Rome. The empty seat beside Ansel left Luca slightly puzzled, making him wonder why they hadn''t sat together on the bus.


    His phone buzzed once in his palm, drawing his attention.


    Turning on the screen, he navigated to his messages. A notification from Sara stood out, reminding him of an important commitment scheduled after the results of the British Grand Prix.


    It was an upcoming headtable interview organized by the Federation for F2, set to take place before the Hungarian Grand Prix. The event would feature the top five finishers from the British Grand Prix alongside Sean Aaronson, who had suffered a DNF. Steve Cole was listed as the host, and the session was designed to cover questions about their reflections on the British Grand Prix and their outlook on the upcoming race.


    The thought of sitting at the same table with his rising rivals unsettled Luca. As he mentally ran through the top five from the last race, he realized the lineup would include his teammate Ansel, Max Addams, Dani Walding, and Miles. Sean, as the sixth participant, would round out the group.


    Luca quickly texted Sara back, confirming he was aware of the event and would be there at the Halasz Pavilion, a venue styled with traditional Hungarian architecture, by late afternoon when the session was scheduled to begin.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been issued!]


    No problemo. Just don''t place it at the time I''ll be there.


    [-¡¤-COMPLETE A LONG-DISTANCE RUN ALONG THE DANUBE EMBANKMENT-¡¤-]


    [OBJECTIVE: Jog a total distance of 10 km, focusing on controlled breathing and maintaining pace.]


    [DURATION: COMPLETE BEFORE 2:30 PM]


    [This quest will improve your cardiovascular endurance, leg strength, and overall stamina, essential for optimal performance.]


    Luca sighed. After just arriving, now he''d have to jog under the warm, near-summer sun along a course in the city that was overly crowded and populated.


    [Reward for Completing Tuesday Daily Quest: (EXP)


    - Strength +1]


    [Consequence for Failing Tuesday Daily Quest: (EXP)


    - Agility -1


    Consequence for Failing Tuesday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Nightblindness .]


    Luca chuckled inwardly. He noticed what the System was trying to do, which was to push him into not thinking about dropping the Daily Quest.


    At Rewards, he had one which was an increase in his Strength attribute. Bear in mind, Luca had been looking forward to leveling both Strength and Intelligence to 20 so he could unlock a new Skill. At 17 value now, an extra +1 would take Strength one step closer.


    Then at Consequences, there was a possible deduct of his Agility attribute. And Agility being at 20, a deduct would get it back to 19 which was an extra climb to get all Attributes to 20 or more. To add it up, Nightblindness was just an extra measure.


    Luca lifted his eyes to the road ahead, realizing that the team was approaching a tunnel. The dim entrance loomed, shadowed by the arch of stone that framed it. Beyond the tunnel, he knew it would open up to a majestic six-way turn that bordered the iconic Liberty Bridge, with its iron trusses rising with this kind of old-world elegance. The path they traveled now was remote, weaving through a secluded landscape with a road that felt slightly rocky under the tires, yet provided a rhythm that was oddly satisfying to his butt.


    Luca squinted into the distance, unable to make out where they were headed, but the driver and their hired guide had mentioned that this area was called K?sz¨¦li District, a lesser-known part in Budapest that offered both seclusion and charm. Slowly, a stone building emerged from the hazy horizon with an aged but dignified facade. Bold letters spelled out Vasliget Training Center above the entrance, carved with dignity into the weathered stone. Within moments, the bus pulled to a halt at the front gate for the routine security check.


    A slight misunderstanding broke out as the facility''s security personnel, the federation''s representatives, and the Trampos Racing staff exchanged clipped words. It turned out Mr. Grant''s convoy, along with their equipment truck and essential support vehicles, hadn''t yet arrived. This bus only carried the drivers and a few team members. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Restless from the long journey, the team spilled out into the open, stretching their legs and basking in the quiet that enveloped the area as the towering, reinforced gate loomed over them. The members moved around, chatting among themselves while taking in their new surroundings. Luca occasionally glanced at his watch, mentally noting the time and keeping his Daily Quest deadline in mind.


    Luca found the outside so quiet and peaceful, making him wonder how serene the premises inside was.


    At last, around 1 PM, the rumble of engines signaled the arrival of the main convoy. A truck lumbered into view, followed by smaller support vehicles. Once the checks were completed, the gate creaked open, revealing the facility that would serve as their base for the next five days.


    Inside, the Vasliget Training Center was a nice blend of old-world architecture and modern design. There were surprisingly cobblestone paths that helped them weave through the gardens toward the steel-framed buildings. The air there smelt fresh, natural and earthy. Perhaps, it was the presence of the tall oaks and well-trimmed greenery.


    The team wasted no time settling in. While drills were scheduled, they were meant only for Haas and Victor, as Ms. Vallotton and Mr. Grant kept Luca and Ansel''s upcoming interview in mind.


    Nice track, Luca thought, peering out the window at the facility''s layout while changing into a hoodie tracksuit. He recalled overhearing one of the wardens mention that the track stretched 2.5 km¡ªan impressive length for a training center.


    With approval granted, Luca hopped onto an outgoing bus that was heading to pick up supplies. He requested to be dropped off at the start of the Danube Embankment, which stretched alongside the famed river and offered panoramic views of Budapest. A few minutes later, the bus stopped at the lively area bustling with locals and tourists alike. Music already humming through his earpiece, Luca stepped out.


    He took in the blend of people from all walks of life before setting his eyes on the scenic path ahead. System? How long is this thing?


    [The Danube Embankment extends approximately 15 kilometers within the Budapest section.]


    That''s one rep? You said 10km


    [Affirmative, host.]


    Alright, Luca exhaled sharply and took his first stride. Within moments, he was running through one of Budapest''s most iconic sights. The path meandered along the river, past elegant bridges, and grand historical buildings, and each step immersing him in the city''s essence as he perspired within seconds.


    [Host is attempting Tuesday''s Daily Quest]


    [ANALYSING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Speed: 3.3 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Stamina: 95% (Very Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 10m


    -Time: 3 sec ]

 Chapter 96 F2 Midseason Press Conference

    Pre-race driver press conferences were a customary thing in Motorsport, and in any sport as well. A quick 1-2 hour session that brought the top five of the standings together in one large room with the press. This activity was smartly schemed at key times, like at the start of the season, midseason, and just before the final Grand Prix or Mega Prix as it is called. This applied to both F1 and F2, with F2 always carrying out any of their activities the day before F1''s.The Federation put up this conference for several different reasons. One of the most important reasons was to bring the young drivers before cameras more often. Here, they''d learn more about their experiences and thoughts so far and what they aimed to achieve for the rest of the season.


    Another reason was to align with their restive rule, which was to help familiarize the drivers amongst themselves. This might help eliminate bitter or dangerous rivalry that could creep in, especially when they rarely saw each other outside the atmosphere of competition. However, the Federation was more than glad to entertain any slight form of drama that might occur between them during this activity.


    Halasz Pavilion, a well-decorated arena-like government property just a little away from the edge of Budapest''s heart, was the venue for today, and reporters with their corresponding cameramen were already present, shuffling around the white conference room with the red high table looming ahead.


    Scott Cole, dressed smartly in a navy blue suit with a red tie and a white dress shirt beneath, was ready for today. Besides his in-race English commentary, this was a rare job assigned to him, and he was determined to carry it out well.


    Meanwhile, as soon as Sara and Mallow touched down in Budapest with an afternoon plane, Sara headed to pick up Luca without taking any time to rest. She was granted access into the training center and waited a few minutes for Luca.


    Luca had just finished his Daily Quest, running the long stretch until his System notified him of the quest''s completion. He returned to the base, refreshed, and got dressed in a red Trampos team-branded polo shirt, paired with brown pants and casual sneakers. Ansel had offered to wait for him, but Luca politely refused. He had no idea exactly when Sara would arrive, and he didn''t want to keep anyone waiting.


    Surprisingly, by 3:30 pm, Sara was on the premises, and Luca softly hurried out with just his phone in his pocket. He slid into the passenger seat and offered her an innocent smile, knowing fully well she had pushed herself today.


    Arriving at the conference center, Luca noticed a small crowd of reporters gathered outside. It seemed they were either unofficial or lacked the necessary credentials to enter. Regardless, Luca had been advised he wasn''t required to engage and to proceed directly into the main conference room.


    "Welcome, Mr. Luca Rennick," Steve Cole greeted with an enthusiastic tone as Luca stepped into the cool, air-conditioned room. Extending his hand across the table, Steve smiled broadly, and Luca reciprocated, the camera flashes capturing their handshake. "Just two more drivers to go!" Steve added, glancing briefly at his wristwatch.


    Luca''s eyes met Ansel''s, who sat comfortably at the center of the table, giving him a knowing nod. He then took in the sight of the other two drivers seated at the left edge: Max Addams, who wore a relaxed, carefree expression, and Dani Walding, appearing younger and more focused. It was actually Luca''s first time seeing Dani up close.


    Taking the seat between Dani and Ansel, Luca was handed a microphone. He clipped it to his team-branded polo shirt as the broadcasting crew made their final adjustments, ensuring he was ready for the live session, just like the others.


    "25 minutes before we go live!"


    Ten minutes later, Miles walked in, followed shortly by Sean Aaronson. Steve Cole''s face lit up as he noted the complete lineup and requested that the drivers acknowledge each other. Silent nods and brief glances were exchanged around the table. Luca avoided eye contact with Aaronson, who, in turn, didn''t greet anyone. Max Addams offered a half-hearted mumble, his gaze was distant and indifferent. Only Ansel and Miles exchanged firm nods of acknowledgment.


    Realizing there wasn''t much he could do to foster more camaraderie, Steve shifted his focus as the head broadcaster announced they would be going live in a few moments. He adjusted his posture, took a deep breath, and prepared to begin.


    "...a special F2 pre-race driver press conference today ahead of the upcoming Hungarian Grand Prix. Good afternoon, I''m Steve Cole, and it''s an honor to guide this conversation."


    "...let''s begin with a quick reflection on the last round. Each of you had defining moments at Stadhaven, which got you to your respective positions... or lost all. Luca, you managed a spectacular late race domination after a battle in the storm. Max, you defended fiercely in those final laps. And Dani, your fight through the midfield was electric..."


    "...I want to start by asking: what was going through your mind during those intense final moments of the race, coupled with the harsh weather, and how did that influence your approach heading into Hungary...?"


    A moment of awkward silence hung over the drivers before Miles broke it, shrugging and leaning forward to face Steve. "There''s not much to it, really. Not much to influence. My approach, and I believe theirs too, is to win¡ªregardless of what might have happened in the last race," he said quickly.


    From the far end of the table, Max Addams muttered, "He''s right," drawing the attention of everyone around.


    Steve nodded, then turned to Aaronson. "I get that, Miles," he said before shifting the focus. "But after such a dramatic race, there were some bold statements made. For example," Steve continued, fixing his eyes on Aaronson, "unfortunately, you didn''t finish, leaving your team with just two points. After the race, you said, and I quote, ''If nobody deals with him [Luca], I will.'' Those are strong words, and everyone is curious what you intend to do to back that up, especially now that you''re starting at the back of the grid after your DNF."


    A faint smile appeared on Luca''s face. One competitive driver down and one less concern for the upcoming race.


    Aaronson bit his lip as though Steve''s words had offended him. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Steve, I consider myself one of the best F2 drivers of this generation, if not the best. In every season I''ve participated in, it''s customary for the best to push the weaker drivers¡ªthe frauds¡ªout of the way. I intend to do that over time, not just in one race," he said.


    Steve raised his eyebrows, interest piqued. "So, are you implying that Luca is a weak driver, a fraud?"


    Luca, toying absentmindedly with a grain of sand he had found on the table, raised his head at the question. The tension in the room thickened as everyone''s eyes fixed on Aaronson, waiting for his response.


    Aaronson shrugged. He knew Steve was baiting him for a sparking reply, and it was wise not to take it. But Aaronson didn''t care, he stood for his word. "I don''t recognize him as a driver. I don''t recognize any of these new lads, including the one sitting next to me."


    "...Mr. Aaronson, we advise courtesy and ask that you address everyone by their names," one of the organizers interjected.


    Miles shot Aaronson a disgusted look. "The name''s Bellingham, Miles Bellingham. Funny you forget, seeing as I stood third on the podium," he sneered.


    Aaronson opened his mouth to retort, but Steve interrupted. "Relax, gentlemen. Let''s keep this professional," he said, turning to Luca. "Luca, you''ve heard your opponent''s remarks. The very one you outmaneuvered at Stadhaven, seizing your first GP win after a grueling physical encounter. What''s your response?"


    He''s a big dork.


    Luca exhaled, his expression calm. "I''m not sure what kind of response he''s looking for. Yes, maybe his result in the last race was impacted by me¡ªlegally. But I''ve shown resilience with three podium finishes so far, compared to his two," he said, turning his gaze to Aaronson. "So, I don''t think ''weak'' is the right word."


    Cameras rolled and flashes sparked as the conversation aired live. While F2 never garnered the colossal attention of F1, recent seasons, especially this one, had drawn significant audience interest.


    Steve Cole smiled at Luca''s response and turned to Max, who sat more relaxed now, his palm resting under his cheek. "Max, I noticed you chuckled after Sean''s words. What''s amusing you?"


    Max chuckled again, his shoulders shaking slightly. "He said he''s the best F2 driver of this generation," he muttered, a smile playing on his lips as he shook his head.


    "And¡­ you find that funny?" Aaronson asked irritably.


    "No. I find it hilarious," Max replied, still shaking his head. "Big words for someone with zero championships."


    Steve, sensing the tension veering off course, quickly intervened. "Gentlemen, we''re here to discuss plans for success, not debate it. Before we move to the reporters'' Q&A session, I''d like to hear from Ansel and the rest regarding their approach for the Hungarian Grand Prix," he said. "Ansel? You and your teammate, Luca, had a brief battle in the London rain shower. He won, securing P1. What''s your mindset going into this race? Do you plan to climb up and take P1 or whatever position he''s holding?"


    Ansel paused for a moment before answering. "Yes. It''s competition, and I''m sure he understands. So, yes."


    "Oh, straightforward. Anyone else want to share a remark? Dani? Luca? Miles?"


    Just like Luca had guessed, Miles would like to put in some words.


    "Believe it or not, I know Luca more than anyone in this room. And I can tell you, his highs are as wonderful as his lows," Miles said, looking to the side where Luca was just a seat beyond Ansel. He wanted Luca''s gaze, but Luca wasn''t giving it to him, Luca had his eyes on the reporters and maybe that his grain of sand. "And just like before, I''m always ready to be the cause of the lows and competitively make them permanent."


    "Thank you for those words, Miles," Steve continued, looking at Luca. "Would you like to¡ª"


    "No, not at all," Luca replied.


    "Alright," Steve said, turning to the cameras. "Let''s proceed to the next segment. First question goes to Max Addams."


    A reporter in the front row raised a hand.


    This went on for about thirty minutes more as the reporters started asking individual questions to each of them. They inquired about their personal strategies for navigating the standard track of Hungaro Ring while maintaining their competitive edge.


    Max Addams was pressed on his recent performances and how he intended to reclaim his dominance in the series. Miles entertained the room with sharp-witted answers, making Luca feel uneasy, worried he might face some trouble from him on Saturday.


    Ansel was once again asked to share insights about his dynamic with his teammate, Luca. He simply emphasized that there was mutual respect between them and that they would work together for a team victory¡ªsave for any 1v1 situations.


    Luca downplayed any questions that came his way, carefully ensuring he avoided any traps that might provoke the wrong response. Luckily, the session concluded just in time, as he felt he was about to lose his composure.


    The air in the conference room was palpable as the murmur of the media grew stronger. All drivers were required to shake hands with one another upon the completion of the session, and with the host, Steve, once more.


    "Mr. Ansel, Mr. Luca? Please come this way," a man in black gestured toward them in the room that had grown into a frenzy. All drivers were led out through different exits that guided them to the open area where fans eagerly awaited their presence. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Trampos'' fanbase was smaller compared to the likes of Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr and Squadra Corse Jnr. Even so, their supporters exuded loud energy and excitement upon the emergence of their two drivers from the building.

 Chapter 97 Hungary GP Awaits

    "Mr. Grant and Ms. Val would like us to repeat Stadhaven''s strategy, Ms. Val in particular. She said it worked well for you guys then, and it might do the same on a standard track like Hungaro," Colt, the head of the engineering department team that came with Ms. Val, said to Luca and Ansel.Luca and Ansel were in the locker room, suiting up in their training Veststars for the day''s drills and sessions. Colt stood between them as Luca adjusted his gloves, while Ansel sat tightening his racing boots.


    Ansel''s mind was racing, mulling over their proposed strategy. It''s not like he disliked the Dual Advance Strategy, where the driver at midfield tends to be more aggressive than the one at the lead so as to create a stable competitive atmosphere. The problem for Ansel was that the positions were reversed, and unlike before where Luca was usually the one who fended off rivals for him, it''d be the opposite on Saturday. And now, they''d need to train for it.


    He sighed, grabbing his balaclava. While head socks weren''t necessary for training, wearing one always helped him sharpen his focus and maintain control. "No words on secondaries? Alts?" he asked Colt.


    "Nope, not at all," Colt replied. "Luca starts at pole, you at P4. The delta''s not much when compared to two other positions with a three margin difference. But stakes get higher as you move upfront, so we can''t really rely on substrats for formations and all that. Hope you get it?"


    Luca picked up his helmet with his right hand, flexing his left as he glanced at Ansel. He wasn''t sure if Ansel chose not to respond or if the balaclava muffled his words. "Sure, we''ll try our best to adapt well," Luca said, taking a deep breath.


    Colt nodded, staying rooted to the spot with Luca as they waited for Ansel to finish suiting up. Once Ansel rose to his feet and grabbed his helmet, they turned toward the door. Colt resumed speaking.


    "Don''t sweat it, fam. At least now, we have the comfort of strategizing before the race, thanks to the grid being set by Stadhaven''s results," he said, leading the way through the door. "For the rest of the season, we''ll have qualifying sessions."


    Colt was right. Throughout the first half of the season¡ªprimarily from the 2nd to 6th rounds¡ªall grid positions were determined by the results of the last featured race. This included the upcoming 7th round. However, the 1st round and the remaining 8th to 12th rounds would use qualifying sessions, like the Sprint Race or similar activities, to set the grid positions.


    Luca studied Colt as he spoke, noticing his constant use of the word "we." Usually, it would be McCauley giving him and Ansel this briefing, but Luca sensed Colt had been directed to do it, likely to foster a closer relationship with Ms. Vallotton''s group. After all, they were all Trampos Racing now.


    The three of them stepped out of the main building, passing the training center''s wardens seated by the side as they emerged. Individuals clad in red occupied a section of the track, engaged in animated conversations, with McCauley at the center of the discussion. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The cars were parked at the edge, positioned over the striped curbs near the telemetry room. Luca, Colt, and Ansel navigated through the well-maintained greenery to approach the machines, where Mr. Moritz stood alongside Ms. Vallotton.


    As Luca and Ansel neared the cars, the team caught sight of them and moved closer. "Good noon, gentlemen," Moritz exclaimed in his typical upbeat demeanor. "I trust Mr. Colt here has briefed you on what we''ll be focusing on?"


    "He sure has," Ansel replied.


    Without saying a word, Ms. Vallotton turned and walked toward the telemetry room, where Mr. Grant stood looking down from the viewing post. Her arms were folded, and her posture remained composed and authoritative.


    "Metric laps will come first for good measure," Colt explained, his glasses giving him a more professional look that made Moritz''s seem almost casual. "We''ll gather data on driving patterns and car performance. From here, we''ll analyze strengths and areas for improvement before moving into the main activity. How long shall this take?"


    "Twenty minutes," Moritz replied swiftly.


    Luca and Ansel nodded in agreement. The timeframe seemed reasonable.


    Colt acknowledged this with a mutter, flipping through the stack of papers he held. "And then," he continued, "we''ll have DA drills with Haas and Victor, incorporating some timed pit stops to keep us sharp."


    Ansel frowned behind his balaclava. "No cornering practices? No formation runs?" he asked, impatience creeping into his tone.


    Colt shook his head slowly, scanning the file again. "Hungaro doesn''t feature sharp chicanes or bottlenecks. The turns are relatively navigable. And with Luca at the pole, practicing formations isn''t a priority since you both might not be close during the race. We need to dedicate more time to training Luca on maintaining P1 and refining your aggressive passing. We''ll have mock drills to polish defensive and offensive coordination."


    "It''s nice to have someone who can explain things so well for y''all," Moritz sneered, clapping his hands. He gestured to the team crew behind Luca, pointing toward the two single-seaters where Haas and Victor were hanging out. "You heard em. Go make final checks. Let''s begin."


    Luca and Ansel donned their helmets, securing the straps tightly as they headed toward the cars.


    [Vehicle Specifications:


    Brand: Dallara


    Model: F2 04


    Engine Type: Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit (SomberCore)


    Weight: 740 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h (0 km/h)


    Acceleration: 3.5 sec


    Max Power: 620 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 70%


    Tire Condition: Used


    Telemetry Status: Active


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    "Get two more out here before they''re done in 20!" Moritz shouted from the telemetry room he had just entered.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synched with Dallara (F2 04)]


    The insides of his helmet had never smelled better. Luca took a deep breath, steadying himself as he brought the SomberCore engine to life. He was so accustomed to this B-level engine now that he often wondered how he''d adapt to the more demanding ones in F1.


    Luca glanced in his rearview mirror. Ansel''s car was just behind, positioned neatly.


    The comm crackled to life, snapping Luca out of his brief reverie. **This track is quite long for a training center, folks. Which is a good thing. We can imitate high-pressure race conditions like we''re really in one**


    The radio went silent for a second, likely due to Moritz switching transmitters. Then, another voice came through. **Alright, Luca**


    Luca''s brows arched instantly. That wasn''t Moritz''s voice¡ªit was Ms. Vallotton.


    **Clean exits, good patterns, optimal performance. We keep making such results, it becomes permanent. You understand?**


    "Yes, I do," Luca replied confidently.


    **Let''s begin**

 Chapter 98 Seated, Support And Then... Speed

    Race Day: June 2, Hungaro Ring, Budapest, HungarySaturday had finally arrived, and the vast, stadium-like circuit of the Hungaro Ring was buzzing with energy, ready to host the Formula 2 Hungarian Grand Prix. The Featured Race was scheduled for the late afternoon at 4 p.m., expected to stretch into the evening, possibly concluding around 5 or even 6. At the moment, however, it was just a few minutes past 2 p.m., and the Sprint Race was underway.


    The sky above was an interplay of clouds and light, creating a soft brightness that hinted at perfect racing conditions. Despite the forecast of overcast skies, no rain seemed imminent¡ªa reassuring sign for both drivers and fans. The Hungaro Ring, with its 4.381 kilometers of winding asphalt, was no stranger to delivering intense battles, and today was no exception. The grandstands, towering and modern, were packed to capacity with enthusiastic fans waving Hungarian flags, chanting names, and creating an electrifying atmosphere.


    Luca felt optimistic. From the perfect weather to the palpable excitement in the air, everything seemed to be aligning just right. Spending time in the Trampos Racing garage, he had been analyzing aerial images of the circuit. Every curve, every straight, every potential overtaking zone seemed etched into his mind. Meanwhile, Ansel and Haas had wrapped up the Sprint Race with solid performances¡ªAnsel clinching a strong second place, and Haas close behind in fourth. Their finishes were respectable, though it wasn''t yet confirmed if these results would play a role in setting the grid for the eighth round''s Featured Race. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Maybe it''ll be the next Sprint Race," Luca mused as he folded up the aerial photos and set them aside. He spent about 20 minutes unwinding with his playlist, letting the music drown out the faint sounds of engines roaring in the distance.


    When he finally decided to step out of the garage and join the team in the paddock, the spectacle of the Hungaro Ring hit him anew. Unlike Bahrain''s desert surroundings, the Hungaro Ring was nestled amidst lush greenery and rolling hills, giving the modern track a timeless, picturesque backdrop. The circuit''s contemporary design was awe-inspiring. Escalators carried spectators and personnel across its multi-level facilities, and the paddock area buzzed with activity as engineers fine-tuned cars, media crews set up interviews, and fans vied for glimpses of their favorite drivers.


    Luca took an escalator himself, descending to the ground level where the team''s fluorescent-lit garage awaited. The unmistakable scent of fuel, rubber, and heated metal filled the air, blending with the distant cheers of the crowd. Both of Trampos Racing''s cars rested inside¡ªone still streaked with grime from the Sprint Race, while Luca''s remained spotless, awaiting its turn on the track.


    "¡­And we extend a special welcome to our esteemed guest today, Ms. ¨¦va Nagy, Hungary''s Minister of Innovation and Technology, here to experience the thrill of the Formula 2 Hungarian Grand Prix¡­!" The announcement echoed through the paddock speakers, eliciting a fresh wave of applause from the stands.


    As Luca stood there, taking it all in, a crew member hurried into the garage. Spotting Luca, he paused just long enough to deliver an update. "Oh, Luca. It''s fifty minutes till lights out," he informed before darting up the short staircase, likely to relay the same message to Ansel.


    Luca glanced at his watch¡ªthe digital display read a few minutes past 3 p.m. With less than an hour to go before the Featured Race began, the anticipation in the air was palpable. He inhaled deeply, letting the charged atmosphere fuel his focus. Though he should have headed to the cool-off room for the pre-race briefing with Mr. Grant, Mr. Moritz, Mr. Colt, and Ms. Vallotton, he couldn''t resist venturing out into the paddock.


    Stepping outside, Luca was immediately enveloped by the roar of the crowd. The grandstands, shimmering under the muted daylight, were alive with waving flags and a cacophony of cheers. The collective energy of thousands seemed to ripple across the circuit. The Hungaro Ring''s layout¡ªknown for its tight corners and limited overtaking opportunities¡ªstretched out before him, and it was a demanding 4.5 kilometers that would soon challenge every driver on the grid.


    As Luca moved further into the paddock, his presence caught the attention of the cameras. Unbeknownst to him, his form was being broadcasted across all screens around the circuit. It wasn''t until Victor, seated quietly in the paddock, pointed it out that Luca realized the sudden uproar of cheers was because of him.


    Unsure how to respond, he simply waved to the crowd, focusing on areas where Trampos'' signature red stood out among the sea of colors.


    "...And there he is... Luca Rennick, 18. The pole belongs to that young man today, and he''ll be starting just ahead of Max Addams. There''s a lot of speculation about whether he can convert another victory. Let''s see how Trampos has set things up for him..."


    Luca made his way to one of the paddock''s designated seating areas, where Trampos'' male crew members were gathered. The team had strategically placed themselves just behind their pit box. To the right was Hatcherk''s box, and to the left, a smaller team''s. The pit lane, cutting right from Straight 4 and intersecting just before Turn 11, was a flurry of activity.


    As men and boys gathered in the paddock, their conversation flowed seamlessly, as though they knew each other''s minds. Dennis, crew member 2, in charge of the pit, had one hand on his waist as he adjusted his cap, glaring at the neat track where marshals were running drills. "Clean race earlier. Erik might''ve pushed harder for third, though. A bit too cautious into the last turn, don''t you think?" he remarked to no one in particular.


    McCauley, sipping from a steaming cup of coffee, overheard and approached. "Better cautious than in the barriers, mate. Fourth isn''t bad for a Sprint..." He moved toward Luca, his gaze briefly shifting to the young driver. "After all, the Featured Races give us the real points, and him right there will get them for us."


    "If he nails the start."


    Luca rolled his eyes. He had Grid Launch skill now¡ªa bad start was the least of his concerns.


    "You sound like an armchair expert, mate," McCauley quipped, sinking into the chair beside Luca. "What''d you say after Bahrain? That Luca can''t keep a lead past ten laps? Remind me again who crossed the finish line first the next race?"


    Victor chuckled in his puffed sweater. McCauley took that as support and spread his arms wide, nearly spilling coffee onto Luca in the process. "I saw Max in the Sprint today. We have to admit, he''s hungry," Victor said with a shrug.


    "Everyone is hungry, folks!" McCauley hollered, loud enough for Hatcherk''s garage to hear. "But it''s Luca''s job here to feed ''em dust!" He nudged Luca with his elbow. "Am I right, mate?"


    Luca, who had been quietly fading from the chatter, was visualizing himself in the race. The faint strains of the season''s theme song echoed through the circuit in the background. Snapping back to reality, he replied, "I''ll try my best, like always," he said to McCauley. "You sound too confident."


    "It''s just support."


    A younger crew member, Sam, who had been listening intently, jumped in with excitement. "Did you see the crowd when Luca waved? I swear, a quarter of Hungary''s here just for him. That kind of support has to count for something."


    "Support doesn''t keep my car on the track," Luca said dryly.


    "But it''s good for morale," Dennis countered. "Speaking of which, can someone here please tell him to quit looking so stiff when he''s on camera?! He looked like a deer in headlights up there."


    Luca received a heavy slap to his back from McCauley as the crew burst into laughter, his mind still playing out the race.


    "... Bueseno Velocit¨¤, 13, Max Addams, 67, Daniel Walding...!"


    "... Trampos Racing, 43, Ansel Hahn, 21, Luca Rennick...!"


    "... Squadra Corse, 66, Albert Derstappen, 75, Miles Bellingham...!"


    The voice of the announcer calling out names and numbers rang in the air.


    "Thirty minutes till lights out," someone informed the team. With a sigh, Luca stood, cutting short his time in the paddock to return to the cool-off room, his focus sharpening with every step.

 Chapter 99 Hungarian Grand Prix

    "...P5, Dani Walding...!""...P4, Ansel Hahn...!''


    "...P3, Miles Bellingham...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...P2, Max Addams...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...Pole Position, Luca Rennick...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    Luca picked up his innerwear first, slipping it onto his form. The fabric was said to be fire-resistant and designed to fit tightly to the wearer''s body.


    Next came the main gear, neatly arranged on the bench just as he always insisted. He held it up for a moment, tracing the embroidered Trampos logo on the chest with his thumb before stepping into it. The fabric hissed softly as he pulled it over his legs and zipped it up. A few crew members passed by, offering short greetings as they moved to the other room to carry out their tasks.


    From that same room, Ansel emerged, already dressed up save for his headsock. As usual, he muttered some words to Luca before settling onto one of the benches, staring endlessly at a random spot.


    Luca swallowed his incoming words and decided to grant him his peace and quiet. He reached for his gloves and pulled each one on tightly. Taking occasional glances at Ansel, he flexed his fingers to test the grip of the gloves, ensuring zero discomfort.


    Ansel remained seated, his balaclava tightly gripped in his palms as he performed his ritual of recollecting his thoughts before the race. When he felt he was ready, he quickly slid the headsock over his head and adjusted it carefully. Luca noticed the glimmer in his bright eyes, a look that radiated pure determination and nothing else.


    Animatedly, Luca imitated Ansel, pulling his own head into the black balaclava. He made sure the ends were tucked comfortably under his suit''s thick collars. For good measure, he gave himself a glance in the mirror. Sure enough, he looked like a seasoned driver.


    A set of footsteps entered the room. Luca instantly recognized the purpose behind their brisk pace and knew it was more than just crew members. Spinning around, he could see Ms. Vallotton and Colt.


    "Anything else to tell?" Luca asked.


    "Nothing at all," Ms. Vallotton replied, studying Luca and Ansel briefly. "Lights out in fifteen. Get to the garage," she said, leaving as quickly as she had come.


    Luca let out a deep, warm breath before grabbing his helmet to leave. Stopping at the door, he looked back at Ansel. "Han? It''s fifteen minutes till lights out. C''mon."


    For Ansel, there was still a minute left in his ritual of silence. Luca stood there patiently, waiting until his teammate finally rose to his feet and grabbed his #43-brandished helmet. "Let''s go," Ansel muttered, motioning toward the door.


    The two pushed through and made a turn toward the escalator. After a short ride down, they arrived at the garage, which was bustling with activity as always before the starting grid.


    As the two drivers approached the center of attention, Luca''s eyes moved to his #21 Trampos Racing machine. It looked ready, and his System confirmed it was in optimal condition for a win.


    "...This is a reminder: all non-essential personnel must vacate the pit lane in the next three minutes..."


    Luca and Ansel donned their helmets, accepting handshakes and pats from the team. Mr. Grant and Mr. Moritz didn''t need to repeat their instructions¡ªevery word could easily replay in Luca''s mind as he focused on victory.


    With him starting on pole, he knew he might as well define the race''s outcome if he just started well and watched for the first corner right after the grid.


    "...Reminder to drivers: maintain your speed limit in the pit lane during grid setup..."


    After ensuring all straps were tightly secured and every button was in place, the team crew guided their drivers into their single-seaters.


    "Grid time!" Ms. Vallotton announced the obvious, signaling that the day''s job in the garage, pit lane, telemetry room, and paddock had officially begun.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synched with Dallara (F2 04)]


    Alright, I''m at pole. I AM AT POLE. Luca repeated it three more times to let it sink in. He had no option but to secure a second consecutive F2 victory.


    The Hungaroring was stunning. The view from the asphalt, with the far grandstands arcing toward the sky, was surreal. They looked like walls closing in, stacked with flags from different nations. From his vantage point, he could see the sun slowly setting into the horizon, casting an ethereal orange glow through the gloomy evening sky. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...the marshals are waving them to place. Pole Position. The target. No safety net. That''s Luca Rennick today..."


    Luca exhaled as his car stopped at the front-most grid box and he was waved in affirmation. The golden rays of the setting sun caught his visors, making him wonder if the Hungaro Ring wanted to test him today. He steadied his hands on the wheel as his SomberCore hummed to life, ready for action.


    "...P10, Renaud Bozonnet...!"


    "...P9, Peter De Klerk...!''


    "...P8, Vlad Volyinski...!"


    "...P7, Oliver Kristensen...!"


    "...P6, Albert Derstappen...!"


    Once all the cars were in place, it took a moment before the first red light came on. Before then, Luca took the time to assess his surroundings and the atmosphere of starting on pole.


    First, he caught glimpses of the cars lining up behind him through his side mirrors. They were his predators now, and he was the prey every one of them had their eyes on.


    Second, the track ahead stretched like a blank slate¡ªthe perfect racing line he''d visualized during countless hours of simulation and study now lay waiting for him to bring it to life. He would lead these hungry engines into the first lap.


    **We''re set for a clean getaway. 10 seconds to lights. This is your moment. Eyes forward, full focus**


    "10-4, let''s go," Luca replied just as the first light came on.


    "...thirty elite drivers battling for points. Fifth light on... and it''s lights out for the F2 Hungarian Grand Prix!"


    [Grid Launch +1]


    "...Luca Rennick gets a decent start, but Max Addams is right there with him! Trampos hammers into the lead into Turn 1 with an impressive start, but Velocit¨¤''s Addams is trying again..."


    [Host is participating in an Official Race]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 120 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (Good)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 350m


    -Time: 9 sec ]


    As soon as the lights went out, Luca''s engine was pushed to accelerate up to 200 km/h in order to escape the snapping jaws of Max Addams. Before hitting the first turn, he deftly valued his figures to meet the system''s recommendation, Max Addams rounding the first bend with him.


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    Luca tilted his wheel as the track transitioned to the second right turn. Max Addams cut in to his side, forcing him to drive over the curbs. Luca was able to keep traction, the track transitioning back to the left to give him the advantage.


    [2nd Position closing in]


    [3rd Position closing in]


    [Host has unlocked Skills to disclose an opponent]


    Well, this is not what I expected from a pole, Luca thought as he managed to stay ahead. Max Addams attempted once again from Turn 4. He had to weave like crazy over the turns because Addams would be faster with his slipstream, and Miles, behind, even faster.


    [Straightaway ahead]


    [2nd Position closing in]


    [3rd Position closing in]


    The Straightaway was 800 meters, and Luca knew that. Max Addams would surely attempt DRS, and it was his job to fend that off. The crowd roared in approval as the last set of the early turns were exhausted by the pack leaders, all cars grazing off the sand at the track''s edge in an attempt for a clean exit.


    "...and Luca Rennick doesn''t look strong ahead as they go into the straight!"


    "...Max Addams moving faster... and look at that, they almost touched!"


    Luca swerved to the edge enough to avoid that. His car lost a certain momentum, but it was better than losing a tire and getting a DNF. However, he was glad Max corrected his line too, both not risking points for just an early lead.


    Miles, rather, had a clean outer lane on the straight. With his rear opened, Miles Bellingham zipped beside Max Addams, claiming P2. His speed was enough to take P1 from Luca, but the next set of turns approached. And with Luca at that edge he took earlier, Luca made the first turn, maintaining P1.


    "...wonderful opening lap! Squadra Corse Jnr has pushed themselves one-up the leaderboard!"


    [2nd Position closing in]


    Luca''s heart kept pounding. He hadn''t experienced such a start to a race before. He composed himself, took a very deep breath as he made Turn 6. He imagined the setting sun as his destination of victory. It was an endless voyage, yes. That would make him keep pushing.


    There was a short straight, and Luca took good advantage of it. He emerged out of Turn 7 early, just before Miles, and racked up that speed as fast as he could. Luca wasn''t sure if he''d executed Corner Chopping on Miles; only a notification would tell.


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 80%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 180 km/h]


    [2nd Position closing in]


    Luca navigated his chassis into the next turns, flaunting his red-and-black Dallara to the massive Hungaro Ring crowd. His tires grazed the dust again in an attempt to get a good outside curve. Miles took the conventional lane, snatching P1 for half a second before Luca completed his trajectory and the leaderboard reversed.


    [2nd Position]


    [1st Position]


    [2nd Position closing in]


    "...Luca Rennick and Miles Bellingham are battling it out again! Turn 10 almost had them in contact, but Luca Rennick expertly cut out of Bellingham''s rear, back in P1 in this Hungarian Grand Prix!"


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    That was enough to give Luca a second breathing space. In return, it deducted a second breathing space from Miles. Before he knew it, Max had countered on his slipstream and was alongside him. As the final turn approached, Max Addams surprisingly edged ahead with ease and took back P2 from Miles, leaving him to Ansel''s fangs.


    "...these are critical, important corners for this Grand Prix, Rennick and Addams throwing Bellingham back of the line..."


    "...it might be over for him, Steve. Ansel Hahn is gaining on his slipstream, and he''s attempting at Turn 11 on the inside, but Bellingham is not giving it to him...!"


    Luca was just about turning off his brake bias to gain as much power as possible before he barreled down the straight, made a turn, and sealed what was a thrilling opening lap. His ears perked when he heard a loud skra! A screech and sudden, sickening thud into the barricades.


    **Shit!** Mr. Moritz cursed from the comm.


    The crowd went wild.


    "...and that is a BIG CRASH for Ansel Hahn! Miles Bellingham continues on after a bad touch with their tires. Bellingham loses none, but the Trampos driver loses one, and into the barricade he goes...!"


    Luca, who couldn''t hear the commentary over the sound of the SomberCores, kept asking Moritz what had happened.


    **Just focus on your race. Han''s out. He took a daring move, too tight, and the other guy had to squeeze in too**


    Luca bit the inside of his lip as he barreled down the straight. That was definitely not supposed to happen. How can Ansel be out?! No, no.


    **Safety car''s out. Maintain delta time. Watch your gap to Addams**


    Luca''s heart was still pounding, adrenaline surging through him as he tried to process what had just happened. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles pale against the leather.


    "...a heavy blow to Trampos Racing. But with a driver at P1, they can manage something here. Safety car''s out, and marshals are on the track. The driver is fine, thankfully..."


    Luca sighed deeply, easing off the throttle and allowing the car to coast as he checked his delta. His display flashed a bright yellow bar, urging him to slow further to meet the required pace. All the cars and drivers bunched together in a single line, weaving slightly to keep tire temperatures¡ªand that tension¡ªup.


    "Just tell me what''s happening," Luca persisted.


    **It was too much to claim P3. He''s fine, but the car is done**


    Damnit! Luca cursed inwardly, knowing this would cost their chances at the team championship. His eyes moved to the biggest TV display, his hands steadily keeping his car within the safety car''s regulations. There, on the screen, Ansel was just leaving the crashed red single-seater. He wasn''t screaming or kicking his tires, but Luca could tell the frustration was deeper than that¡ªthe kind where one decides to do nothing but remain silent. After all, getting a DNF on the first lap was enough to prompt such a reaction.

 Chapter 100 Hungarian Grand Prix 2: Lone Trampos Man

    Ansel took one backward glance at his wrecked car before grumpily letting the marshals guide him off the track to safety. His right elbow ached after the sickening hit into the barricade, but it didn''t hurt as much as the pain in his heart.Murmurs filled the crowd, though there were distinct chants from Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr and Squadra Corse Jnr fans. After all, traveling all the way to Hungary and witnessing a rival''s Dallara crash was more than a thrill.


    Luca was still right behind the safety car, weaving slightly to maintain tire temperatures and alternating brake applications to keep the brakes warm. He couldn''t shake the image of the collision, replayed on the big screen for everyone to see.


    It was obvious Ansel aimed high at that moment, and Miles had no choice but to keep driving forward into the path where Ansel''s trajectory was meant to cut through. The screech and thud followed.


    The safety car led the pack through the circuit at a controlled pace while the track marshals worked swiftly. The barricade was deeply dented, and it took some time to detach the car, clear the shattered carbon fiber, and reset the barriers.


    **Safety car coming in this lap** Moritz announced to Luca, his gaze moving to Ansel, who was approaching their garage with the medical wardens. **Get ready for the restart. You''ll control the pace until the line**


    Luca nodded silently, his focus sharpening as he noticed the subtle shift in the safety car''s movements. He took a quick glance at his car''s Operational Status and overall data. Everything was good to go, considering this was still just the first lap.


    With Ansel''s DNF, Trampos'' strategy was out the window, and it was now down to Luca to defend and maintain P1 for the next 61 laps¡ªif that was even possible.


    Luca had one less ally on the field and was left to fend off every rival behind him. The only driver in red and black, his chassis screamed insecurity, and even the most mediocre drivers would be eager to exploit that.


    "...and the safety car is slowly peeling away into the pit lane. Luca Rennick will now take over the field and guide the drivers through the finish line. Let''s resume this Grand Prix, shall we?"


    "...most certainly. With a good driver like Hahn out of this race, we can expect more faces battling for that top five, and I think that''s what we might enjoy the most here..."


    Luca was now in control, dictating the speed of the pack. Behind him, Max Addams calculated his attack, ready to pounce once the grid cleared. Miles wasn''t far behind either, poised for any opportunity to reclaim lost ground.


    Meanwhile, the Trampos team crew rushed to meet Ansel as he neared the paddock. One of them offered him a seat, and though his first instinct was to kick it aside in sheer frustration, he clenched his jaw, swallowed his irritation, and dropped heavily into it.


    His hands trembled slightly as he fumbled with his gloves, tugging them off before tearing his helmet free. Without a second thought, he hurled the helmet to the side. The loud thud it made on the concrete echoed through the quiet paddock.


    That didn''t stop the medical wardens from carrying out their job as they attended to his elbow meticulously and gave him some glucose solution. After applying abrasions, they cleaned the area with antiseptic, administered more glucose solution, and provided instructions to Trampos'' medical crew on what to do afterwards, before they quickly took over.


    "...and we''ve resumed here in Hungary...!" The English commentary broke through the silence, followed by other excited commentary in other languages, snapping Ansel''s attention to the screens. "...a begrudging first lap; let''s hope for a much safer race..."


    [2nd Lap]


    [Track Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    Luca had just realized that his Sync Bar was already nearing the halfway mark, and it was only the second lap. While things weren''t looking great for Trampos as a whole, his own prospects in Hungary were shaping up well.


    The next notification from his system made his heart leap with joy.


    [Ding!]


    [Host has maxed Track Awareness Skill!]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a Skill:


    -Slipstream Mastery: 2 ]


    Luca''s eyes widened in excitement. Oooooh, that sounds effective.


    [Slipstream Mastery is a skill that enhances your ability to utilize the slipstream effect more efficiently, allowing you to close the gap between yourself and the car ahead with minimal drag. It increases drafting efficiency by 10¨C50%, enabling higher acceleration and speed gains while in the slipstream.]


    [Additionally, it reduces ERS consumption during by 5¨C15%, preserving power for overtakes, and enhances your ability to unsettle the opponent ahead by 5¨C15%, pressuring them into defensive errors or compromising their racing line.]


    Wow. This is quite a great skill, Luca thought aloud. The higher the value of Slipstream Mastery, the more efficiently he could use the air resistance¡ªor lack thereof¡ªcreated by the car ahead. With it, Luca could tuck in behind a rival, shaving off drag and gaining speed without wasting extra energy. It wasn''t just about being faster, though. The skill also meant he''d use less ERS while in the slipstream, saving valuable power for important overtakes later on.


    "Any special steps on how to execute it?" Luca asked.


    [Retrieving Data on Slipstream Mastery...]


    [...Data Retrieved]


    [Execution of Slipstream Mastery:


    ¨CPosition your car directly behind a rival to reduce drag


    ¨CMaintain a consistent gap to maximize speed gain


    ¨CMonitor energy usage to conserve ERS while drafting


    ¨CPrepare for an overtake by timing your exit from the slipstream sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¨CUse aerodynamic advantage on straights and long curves


    ¨CAvoid turbulence when exiting the slipstream to maintain control]


    [10th Lap]


    Luca nodded, taking in the information. He had managed to hold onto P1 for as long as he could after Ansel''s crash, managing to even unlock a new skill.


    [2nd Position closing in]


    Luca''s defense in Hungary was just getting started. As they hit the first short-lengthed straight, Max Addams capitalized on his slipstream and even boosted himself with DRS. Upon the next curve, their cars intertwined, Luca losing P1 but reclaiming it easily within the same turn as they exited.

 Chapter 101 Hungarian Grand Prix 3: Collision

    [15th Lap][Strength +1]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 240 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 107 bpm


    -Operational Status: 70% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 75000m


    -Time: 27 min ]


    "It feels like I''m losing grip through corners. Rear''s sliding way too much. I''m not getting the downforce I need," Luca complained to Moritz.


    **That''s noted here. Lemme guess, the car''s light, like it''s floating?**


    "Yes. It''s costing me time. And Max is impatient."


    **It could be tire degradation too. How''s your front grip?**


    "All good," Luca replied, repeating the same when Moritz asked again for assurance.


    **Alright, mate. I know we planned for a pit by the 25th. Let''s cut it to the 20th. Han''s out, and we don''t need a bad vehicle out there, okay?**


    "Roger."


    Luca shifted his focus back to Max Addams, narrowing his thoughts on the intricacies of their duel. He couldn''t help but wonder if the challenges his car was facing were unique to him or shared across the grid. After all, every team used the same mandated engine, chassis, and tire supplier.


    But then again, the rules didn''t prevent a team from having an edge in the paddock. Better engineering crews meant superior fine-tuning, faster repairs, and clever adjustments. That''s your advantage, isn''t it? Luca thought, his eyes narrowing as he studied Max''s movements.


    As they approached the next bend, Luca marveled at Max''s tenacity. The 20th lap had begun, and Max was dangerously close¡ªso close that a small misstep could result in contact. Luca wouldn''t let it come to that. He veered slightly, giving Max a free racing line while ensuring his own trajectory allowed for an optimal exit.


    [Tire Traction: 60%]


    The warning flashed on his HUD, a cold reminder that his tires were wearing thin. It became painfully apparent as he rounded Turn 2''s bottleneck. The car''s rear squirmed under braking, threatening to slide out, but Luca instinctively countered with minute adjustments to the wheel.


    Max took advantage of the momentary instability, diving closer into Luca''s slipstream. The pressure mounted as Luca fought to maintain control, every ounce of his skill tested. His car jittered over the curbs as he pushed through the apex, barely keeping the predator behind him at bay.


    The pitlane loomed ahead, and Luca knew he had no choice but to give up P1 in order to keep his car in good condition. Max, sensing this, didn''t bother edging to his side. He simply remained behind Luca as the Trampos Dallara dragged itself off the track.


    "...fourth driver pitting today¡ªLuca Rennick..."


    "...yes. Maintaining the lead is a very difficult path. And as he goes straight into the box, Max Addams now leads the F2 Hungarian Grand Prix..."


    Stay updated through empire


    [2nd Position]


    Luca was lifted up and dropped within seconds, his Operational Status trickling back up.


    **Get in there, Luca, before Bellingham comes**


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    [Trajectory Assessment: Pitlane disadvantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 3rd Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 60% throttle; maintain straight intersection trajectory. Anticipate 3rd Position''s outside pressure.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 3rd Position). Adjust for slight traction loss at exit to regain position.]


    The crowd''s roar intensified as everyone anticipated what was about to transpire in the next few seconds. It was always a cinematic moment when a pitted driver tried to squeeze back into the race with a high-speed challenger approaching on the racing line. In this scenario, Luca had just pitted, and 3rd Position, Miles Bellingham, was determined to secure P2 by all means.


    As little as their rivalry had grown since Australia, the Hungarian crowd was eager to see who would pull off a better exit at the apex.


    "...a lightning-fast stop for Luca Rennick, and now a charging Miles Bellingham down Straight 1..."


    The gap closed rapidly in mere seconds. Luca knew he was at a disadvantage, bound by the required speed when leaving the pitlane. But he trusted his instincts to veer perfectly as Miles'' car appeared as a blur coming from the side.


    A scorching rug of smoke billowed from Miles'' tires as he screeched ahead, fighting to regain control after a monstrous charge down the straight.


    [3rd Position] sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Miles'' car fishtailed into Turn 5, and Luca seized the chance, edging back ahead of him.


    [2nd Position]


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 80%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 170 km/h]


    Luca''s tires rattled over the curb while Miles took the outside lane. Neither had time to glance at the other as Turn 7 cut sharply, forcing Luca to the outside lane while Miles gripped the inner curb.


    [3rd Position]


    "Fuck!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    [Agility +1]


    Miles'' hands trembled on the wheel. He had almost lost control of his car not once, but twice. Glancing back at Luca, he wondered how Luca was so skilled, especially through corners. Unlike Luca, Miles had been in single-seaters long before even becoming an F2 driver.


    Luca''s car nosed ahead, forcing Miles deep into the curb. It was an illegal move, but with no immediate consequences, Luca was safe for now. Still, he couldn''t relax, as Miles held P2 by mere nanoseconds. Luca swiftly approached Turn 9, slipping behind Miles to claim the inner lane.


    [2nd Position]


    **Too tight, mate. Ease off, don''t make contact**


    [Spatial Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    Luca had been riding the edge all race. If not, he wouldn''t have gained a point in Spatial Awareness. He cursed as his 2nd Position changed back to 3rd as they reached the bottleneck of Turn 11. Miles took the inner lane while Luca rounded out, attempting a drift.


    [Calculating host drift exit...]


    [.... calculation failed]


    What?


    Luca''s eyes widened as his rear tires lost traction mid-drift. Miles had cut tighter than expected, and their lines dangerously converged at the apex.


    "...CONTACT BETWEEN LUCA RENNICK AND MILES BELLINGHAM...!" the commentator''s voice boomed as the two cars collided.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s car jolted violently as Miles'' left front wheel clipped his rear. The impact sent a shudder through both machines, vibrating through Luca''s hands as his car swerved sideways.


    The Squadra Corse Jnr paddock erupted into chaos, voices shouting and cursing as they watched Miles'' Dallara spin uncontrollably, its left tire bouncing off the track.


    "...OH MY! He''s lost it..!"


    [Strength +1]


    Miles'' car pirouetted down the track, spinning wildly as rubber screeched against asphalt. Luca caught a glimpse of the chaos in his mirrors but stayed focused on survival. Instinctively, he corrected his steering, feeling his tires bite back into the track. He had survived.


    Miles had not.


    [Traction Detected.]


    [2nd Position]


    Miles'' car veered off-course, skidding out of the track and into the gravel, where the tires dug deep into the soil, finally coming to a halt. The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps as Squadra Corse Jnr found themselves a driver down.


    **Are you alright, there?**


    Luca gulped, picking up speed as he maneuvered through Turn 12 to meet the last straightaway. "Yeah, I am," he replied, quickly glancing at his car''s status. He was fine. Somehow, he was still in this race.


    "...MILES BELLINGHAM IS OUT! INCREDIBLE SCENES THERE AT TURN 11...!"


    "...badly timed exits for both drivers, and both equally deserve to be in such a situation. However, Miles Bellingham might have had the poorer power approach..."


    "...unharmed, Luca Rennick moves down the straight. Unfortunate there for Miles Bellingham. The flags are waved for him, and it''s another Safety Car here in Hungary! Two drivers down for two top teams! Max Addams holds P1 as the track is cleared...!"


    "Bloody hell¡­" Luca muttered, shaking his head. The crowd''s deafening roar followed him as he pushed forward, leaving behind the wreckage caused by his and Miles'' miscalculation.


    Mr. Grant bit his lip as he watched the replay of Luca''s car nearly colliding with the rival''s. The slow-motion footage showed how easily the incident could have been disastrous for both drivers.


    Miles, furious and unlucky, kicked up gravel as he stormed off, refusing help and stomping his way back to his team''s garage. Squadra Corse Jnr was left with Albert Derstappen as their sole contender. With Albert now at P5, a high points tally was slipping out of sight for the team.


    The Safety Car rolled out as Max took position behind it. Miles'' DNF wasn''t overly messy, and it wouldn''t take long to clear up the track.


    Still, Luca felt bad. He hadn''t intended to make contact with Miles and would have preferred a clean overtake for P2.


    Then he remembered that Miles had been the cause of Ansel''s crash earlier in the race. Luca scoffed. Serves you right, mate.


    [25th Lap]


    Max Addams resumed the race at a blistering pace as soon as the Safety Car peeled off the track. He darted away immediately, the gap between him and the trailing pack widening. Luca now had to recover the seconds lost during his battle with Miles if he hoped to catch Max.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 4.5 seconds away, host.]

 Chapter 102 Hungarian Grand Prix 4: Ansels Accountability

    By the 30th lap, Luca had received three consecutive system warnings about an approaching rival. The advisory urged him to disclose their identity.[3rd Position closing in]


    A fourth warning flashed on his HUD, finally forcing Luca to tear his gaze away from Max''s rear wing and check his side mirrors. For several laps, he had been positioning himself directly behind Max, trying to gain an edge from his slipstream. However, the gap between them was just slightly too wide, and Max''s defensive weaving disrupted Luca''s stability.


    It was only now that he realized another driver had been using his slipstream the entire time, stealthily closing the distance. Intrigued, Luca''s grip tightened on the wheel. With Ansel and Miles out of the race, the pool of top contenders had significantly narrowed. Moreover, Aaronson had started at the back of the grid, so he must be still in the midfield. Could it be someone he had underestimated?


    He expected to spot the familiar blue-and-white colors of Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr in his mirror, assuming it was Walding. But as he glanced over, a flicker of violet caught his eye. Luca''s brows furrowed as recognition dawned¡ªit wasn''t Walding after all.


    Oliver Kristensen had made his move, overtaking Walding during the long straightaway of the previous lap. Now, the violet Dallara was squarely in contention, creeping closer to Luca''s position.


    [Analyzing 3rd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [3rd Position is 3 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant or increase in your favor.]


    --------------------------------------------


    Ansel stood up and left the paddock as the safety car was deployed. Some team members, especially the older ones, patted his back in quiet support as he passed through the garage and toward the escalator. The younger crew, however, avoided even offering a word of encouragement, their gazes firmly elsewhere. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He moved through the maze of corridors before entering the cool-off room. Unbeknownst to him, Ms. Vallotton had been watching from the viewing post. The moment he exited the paddock, she stood abruptly and followed, the sharp clicks of her heels echoing on the polished floor as she trailed him.


    Ansel entered the cool-off area and headed straight for the dressing room. He slumped onto a bench, his shoulders sagging. A few cleaners in the room exchanged glances, surprised to see a participating driver back so early. One look at his expression told them all they needed to know, and they quietly resumed their tasks.


    Moments later, Ms. Vallotton appeared in the doorway, her presence commanding attention. Ansel''s gaze flicked toward her.


    "May I ask what you''re doing here?" she said sharply, her arms crossed. "The team is still out there, and the Featured Race is ongoing."


    Ansel shrugged as he bent down to remove his race boots. "I''m not part of the race anymore, am I?"


    "I knew you''d say something so flimsy," she snapped, her glare drilling into him as he unzipped his suit. Her words stung more than he cared to admit, but he refused to let it show.


    "And why," she pressed, stepping closer, "are you no longer part of the race? What did you do?"


    Ansel''s head tilted slightly, his brow furrowing. ''Where is she headed with this?'' he wondered. Was she playing ignorant just to force him to admit fault?


    "I''ll answer that for you, Han," she continued, her tone colder than ice. "You messed up. That''s what you did."


    "I¡­ messed up?" Ansel echoed, her accusation hitting like a hammer driving a nail.


    "Yes," she replied bluntly.


    Ansel opened his mouth to retort but quickly realized he had no words to defend himself.


    Val rubbed her temple and sighed in exasperation. "We''re thirty-three points above my former team, Velocit¨¤. Right now, Max is holding onto 25 points, and Walding, sitting at 4th, is set to claim another 12. If this keeps up, we can kiss the Constructors'' Championship goodbye before the final GPs even begin."


    Ansel swallowed hard, his chest tightening as Val''s words cut through him. When she finished, he finally found his voice. "You gave us this strategy. My job is¡ªwas¡ªto be a threat in the upper midfield, wasn''t it?"


    "Threats don''t make reckless, dumb moves, Han! They make smart ones," Val snapped, her voice rising. "That was the first freaking lap! There was no need to attempt overtaking Bellingham. You had straights for that¡ªnot a tight bottleneck!"


    Her words hung in the air like a slap and Ansel fell silent. It hurt Ansel because she was indeed telling the truth. Right at that moment he made for a slot through Miles'' side, he was really ambitious for position. Most drivers would have held back, staying in the slipstream to deploy DRS on the straight. But not Ansel. He''d gambled, hoping the turns would favor him. Of course, he had witnessed it happen many times, that''s why he pushed his car for that upper edge. Miles, however, was a no-nonsense opponent, and maintained his line instead of giving Ansel some space.


    "Now we can only imagine how difficult things will get for Luca," Val continued, sighing as she placed her hands on her hips. "He''s the only one left in red out there¡ªa bright, easy target. We''ll discuss this more after the race and in the coming days. For now, Grant and I don''t want you brooding. As you can see, your assailant also crashed out."


    "I''m not brooding," Ansel shot back, his voice sharper than he intended.


    "Good." Val''s eyes narrowed. "Then grab a Trampos cap and head back to the paddock. How do you think Luca will feel if he charges into the box for a pit and doesn''t see you there?"


    Ansel exhaled heavily, running his fingers through his hair. He glanced at the cleaners nearby, who had paused to listen intently to their exchange. Their sudden interest annoyed him, but he let it slide.


    "Fine," he said. "I''ll be there in two. I just need a moment."


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    "Thank you," Val said curtly, spinning on her heel. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor as she strode out without another word.


    The distant roar of the crowd erupted moments later, thundering through the corridors.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Ansel froze, the deafening cheers cutting through his thoughts. The energetic cadence of the commentators'' voices filtered through, their excitement unmistakable. Something major had just unfolded on track.


    He sighed, dragging his focus back to his own reality. The clash with Miles replayed in his mind like a haunting loop. Shaking it off, he pulled the Trampos crew uniform over his shoulders, forcing himself to move forward.

 Chapter 103 Hungarian Grand Prix 5

    The cause of the uproar at Hungaro Ring was yet another crash. An Avidavis Motorsport driver had lost control and plunged straight through the barricade¡ªno contact, just an outright miscalculation. The crash was severe enough for the rear of his Dallara to catch a wisp of blue flame. The fire crew swiftly intervened, though the flames barely lingered on the wings.Luca was in the midst of executing an important move when Moritz announced the call for the safety car¡ªthe third time this race. He groaned in frustration, his momentum forcibly stalled as he fell in line behind Max while the track was cleared.


    As they lined up, Luca noted that Max Addams'' car was within the proximity needed for the Advanced Bundle to analyze. He initiated the System''s scan, grinning as the performance metrics populated.


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h (100 km/h) (300 km/h¡ª100km/h in the last five seconds) (20km/h each millisecond)


    Acceleration: 3.5 sec (0¡ª100km/h) (28.57 km/h per second)


    Max Power: 620 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 52%


    Tire Condition: Worn


    Telemetry Status: Active


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    Luca''s grin widened. The fuel level, the worn tire condition, and the overall operational status told him everything he needed to know that Max Addams would have no choice but to pit soon. With Luca trailing so closely, only a flawless, one-second pit stop could save Max from losing the lead.


    "...and we''re back to green! Hungaro Ring cleared, race resumes...!"


    [3rd Position closing in]


    "...The safety car is in, and the field is unleashed once more! Max Addams controls the pace as they barrel down the main straight..."


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 1st Position]


    [You are 3 seconds away, host.]


    **Keep close. Get ready to seize the chance¡ªI can almost feel the burn of his tires. Trust me**


    Luca held his line tight behind Max''s as they tore down the main straight. With time, he felt the whoosh provided by Max''s rear wing whip to the side of his own Dallara. There was no drag at his front wings, prompting 100% effectiveness of his SomberCore''s power on his speed.


    [Slipstream Mastery +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    "... Rennick is within DRS range now. One mistake from Addams and he''ll take the position one with ease..."


    "...I don''t think he''d be making a mistake, Steve. Max Addams is tearing away from the track, his car needs many changes and surely, Luca Rennick will claim P1 in this Grand Prix..."


    [You are 0.8 seconds away, host.]


    **Confirmation from Velocit¨¤, he''s heading into the pits**


    The cameras cut to Addams as his car veered off the main straight and peeled into the pit lane. His crew scrambled into action, but before Max had fully committed to the pit stop, Luca shot past him and headed into the turns.


    [1st Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    "...Luca Rennick leads the Hungarian Grand Prix!"


    **You own P1 again. Good Job. Excellent job. Stay steady**


    Luca exhaled deeply as he powered through Turns 5, 6, and 7. The sun had sunk below the horizon now, and its orange glow was being replaced by a bluish-gray sky that loomed over the circuit. He had reclaimed his position, and Oliver Kristensen had seized P2, relegating Max to P3 just ahead of his teammate, Dani Walding. Max managed to exit the pits quickly enough to avoid slipping further to P4.


    Settling his nerves, Luca drove fast but steady, weaving deftly through curves and bends. His focus shifted momentarily to his most critical display.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 285 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 107 bpm


    -Operational Status: 75% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 190000m


    -Time: 55 min ]


    [40th Lap]


    Luca activated the radio, his thoughts now fixated on the necessity of another pitstop. As the F2 standard chassis, Dallaras often relied on soft tires, typically requiring two or three stops per race depending on the number of laps.


    "Tires still have life, but we''re on softs, and I don''t want to gamble too long."


    **Copy, Luca. We''re aiming for a stop at Lap 45. Tire degradation is on target¡ªat least, you''re managing them well. We''ll box for another set of softs unless conditions demand otherwise**


    [Current Lap: 41]


    [Tire Degradation: 43%]


    [Estimated Wear by Lap 50: 72%]


    Luca bit his lip, his focus shifting between the track ahead and the subtle drag he felt from his car''s handling. The contact with Miles earlier had clipped his front wing¡ªnot visibly damaged, but enough to spark doubt. He could already feel a slight imbalance, particularly in the high-speed corners where aerodynamic precision mattered most.


    Would it worsen over time? Who knew? But the thought of losing precious seconds to a front wing replacement at the pitstop made him hesitate.


    Meanwhile, Kristensen had clawed his way into contention, sitting solidly in P2. For the first time this season, the usually mid-pack driver looked like a genuine threat, clearly eager to push harder and claim P1. Luca couldn''t blame him, let alone underestimate him.


    At least Pitstop Prodigy would help, Luca thought, toggling the radio again to speak.


    [42nd Lap]


    "How long will a front wing change cost us?"


    **We aren''t an F1 team crew, Luca. Maybe 8-10 seconds. I know there''s a slight issue with the downforce¡ªwe''ve noticed. It was the bump, right?**


    "Yes."


    **You can''t manage?**


    "It might be a problem. We won''t know until later."


    Moritz hesitated. **We''ll try to be quick, then**


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 4 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant]


    Luca began calculating. An 8-10 second pitstop¡ªreduced somewhat by Pitstop Prodigy¡ªplus another 1.5-2 seconds leaving the pitlane, and perhaps 0.5 seconds stabilizing back on the track.


    He needed more of a gap to Kristensen to cover the deficit.


    Glancing at the side mirror, Luca tried to study Kristensen''s car. Unfortunately, the violet chassis was too far to analyze, though the confidence with which it approached suggested its Operational Status was strong.


    Sighing as he led the drivers out of Turn 12 and onto the straight, Luca muttered under his breath. "Who would''ve known, Oliver? Who would''ve known."


    [45th Lap]


    **Your call**


    "Yes."


    **Roger. Box, then. Telemetry shows reduced downforce on the front wing affecting your cornering. It''s good you suggested it¡ªit''s not catastrophic yet, but in a few laps¡­**


    Luca already knew. He had a deep connection with any single-seater he synchronized with. Flashing his lights to signal the team, he braced himself as the pit entry loomed ahead. His tires peeled into the pitlane as the milliseconds delta between him and Kristensen began to shrink.


    The crew moved with choreographed precision as Luca boxed. Wheels popped off and fresh tires were fixed into place, while the new front wing waited.


    It took long even with Pitstop Prodigy. "Come on, come on," Luca muttered under his breath as the crew finished the wing change. He caught a glimpse of Ansel seated at the paddock. He wanted to ponder on his teammate, but the tires clicked on, and the green light flashed above him.


    Luca hit the throttle once the car dropped from the jack, feeling the familiar power surge of his SomberCore beneath him. He shot out of the pit box, the red-and-black Dallara roaring into the pitlane, both the crowd and the commentary cheering through Hungaro Ring.


    Luca hoped he was fast enough to slip back in, maybe miliseconds before Kristensen, who even had Max Addams glued to his tail. But Kristensen was taking none of it, he had his Retona car move with a surge of momentum, letting Luca have the small gap behind him.


    [2nd Position]


    "...for the first time ever in the championship, Oliver Kristensen of Retona Racing is leading the race! He now holds the top spot, weaving like a maniac! And if he defends well, he might grab those points...!"


    "...Kristensen has played his cards perfectly today, positioning his F2 04 at strategic points after Hahn and Bellingham''s crash... He will have to hold on now, the relentless pursuit of the two giants¨CRennick and Addams¨Cis clawing up to him..."


    **You can still take it back, don''t worry, mate**


    "I know," Luca replied, positioning himself right behind Kristensen''s Dallara. He also had in mind Max Addams was right behind him. A threat he was? Yes.


    [Analyzing 3rd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [3rd Position is 3 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might change and decrease, not in your favor]


    "I know."


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [You are 0.7 seconds away, host.]


    "...oh, and Luca Rennick is going to try to snatch back P1 once again, going for the outside line...!


    [Calculating host drift exit...]


    [.... successfully calculated]


    Luca''s car weaved into P1 smoothly at Turn 10, but a brief loss of traction unsettled his rhythm. Kristensen capitalized instantly, seizing the lead with a sharp inside maneuver. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "... Kristensen is holding steady at the bottleneck of Turn 11, but Rennick is relentless! They are inches apart and engines are screaming in effort!"


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    Luca found himself behind Kristensen again, but he wasn''t willing to stay there for long. His System announced:


    [Straightaway ahead]


    Luca''s instincts sharpened, as he knew that would be a perfect chance to create a gap after overtaking. His eye moved about through the apex of Turn 12. He needed a good, nearly perfect exit as Kristensen was executing a surprisingly good defensive broadening.


    [Track Span Analysis: 3.2 meters wide (inside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 2.4 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.6 meters (0.3 meters on each side)]


    [Possibility of Overtake: 84% success rate] [Risk of Wheel Contact with Rival: 10%]


    "I''ll take it!"


    "...there, Jon, Luca Rennick is trying again.... going through the inside line before the main straight!"


    Kristensen did very well to defend, but that''s all he could do if he wanted to avoid a possible 10-second penalty. He had taken the middle, most conventional lane, while Luca nosed his chassis through the recommended space provided by his System. He deftly tilted his wheel, his tires grazing the curbs as the track signs signalled the apex of the last turn.


    Luca slipped in before Kristensen, keeping a good traction as he emerged into the straight first.


    [1st Position]


    "...and Luca Rennick is back in the lead of the Hungarian Grand Prix! What a masterful cut through Turn 12! Kristensen is now chasing as Rennick surges forward!"


    "Yes! Let''s go!" Luca muttered, pumping himself up.


    **Good job**


    [You are gathering speed]


    [Spatial Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Power-up failed!]


    [Sync Bar is currently full]


    [46th Lap]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used]


    "That''s what I''m talking about," Luca whispered, glancing at the fully charged Sync Bar. There was no better feeling than filling it up, knowing he could deploy it when the moment was right.


    [2nd Position closing in]


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    "How far is 2nd Position from me?"


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value would increase in your favor due to Sync Buff]


    "And what if I don''t use Sync Buff?"


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant in your favor]


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    The prompt reappeared, but Luca hesitated. At Lap 46, there were still sixteen laps to go. A Sync Buff typically lasted only 5 to 7 laps, which meant exhausting it before Lap 53 might leave him vulnerable in the race''s closing moments.


    Luca wasn''t willing to risk it. Who knows? Anything could happen within those few laps left till 62nd, stripping away his second straight Grand Prix win he already had in the bag. With quick mental calculations, he decided he''d hold off until Lap 55 to activate the Sync Buff for maximum impact.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    Luca dismissed the notification and focused on his driving.

 Chapter 104 Hungarian Grand Prix 6

    [50th Lap]The more the laps progressed, the clearer it became that Luca was poised to claim his second consecutive Grand Prix victory. Sensing this, the Trampos Racing paddock and garage came alive, and became a sea of energy and anticipation. Crew members were on their feet, rallying the Trampos fans in the stands next to their garage to cheer Luca''s Dallara through the remaining twelve laps.


    Mr. Grant exchanged a knowing smile with Ms. Vallotton, while Moritz maintained a calm demeanor, speaking methodically over the team radio. They all knew this was just the beginning¡ªa taste of the glory Trampos Racing had been working towards. Luca was shaping up to be the driver they had been waiting for.


    "HOOH...HOOOH" chanted Trampos through Hungaro Ring as Luca began the 51st Lap. The sun had gone down, and evening enveloped the venue.


    Ansel sat quietly in the paddock, unmoved by the jubilant atmosphere around him. He could feel the electric energy crackling through the air, yet it failed to spark any emotion within. The creeping chill of the evening was the only sensation he acknowledged.


    Zip! Luca''s car streaked past before the pitlane.


    Zip! Three seconds later, another car followed.


    Zip! A third whizzed by.


    "HOOH...HOOOH!"


    Ansel leaned forward slightly. He assumed the race had settled into its final rhythm until the checkered flag, but the sudden roar of the crowd told him otherwise. Something was happening at the head of the pack.


    He glanced at the screen, half expecting Luca to be in a heated battle to defend P1. But the display told a different story. Luca was secure in the lead. The drama instead centered on Kristensen, who was struggling to fend off Max Addams'' relentless pursuit for P2.


    [52nd Lap]


    [Stamina +1]


    Luca noticed the shift in his side mirror. Max, an F2 master of calculated aggression, had outmaneuvered Kristensen over time, putting him in a precarious position, where Dani Walding had the chance to counter on his momentum loss.


    And judging by the speed and drive Max Addams was using during turns, Luca could tell he aimed for a last minute overtake on him, claiming P1 just before the final grid.


    Ansel couldn''t deny it now, the buzzing atmosphere that came with the gradual end of a Grand Prix seemed to vibrate through the asphalt, the concrete and up his legs. Now, he was eager to see how the podium would be set. Right now, it seemed Kristensen was just falling into the prey of Dani Walding.


    "HOOH...HOOOH!" the Trampos crowd erupted as Luca surged ahead into Lap 53, still holding a commanding lead.


    "...we''re on Lap 53 here at the Hungarian Grand Prix, and the battle for P3 is heating up! Kristensen is struggling to hold his line as Dani Walding closes in with tremendous speed through Sector 2!"


    "¡­look at Kristensen''s car! It''s losing grip¡ªthere''s a slight wobble heading into Turn 5! Walding is right there, ready to pounce!"


    It was very difficult for Oliver Kristensen to manage, and he wasn''t able to defend against Dani Walding just like how Max easily outpaced him. At the exit of Turn 6, the short straightaway opened, giving Dani Walding a clear view and picture of P3 a hand. Max''s car was a sector and a turn ahead, and Luca, four turns ahead.


    "...Heading into Turn 6, Walding dives down the inside for the straight! A perfectly timed move¡ªKristensen tries to defend, but it''s no use! Walding''s car slips through with perfect precision!"


    **We have two Velocit¨¤ drivers at P2 and P3 now. It doesn''t look good for our points**


    "...and Dani Walding moves into P3! Kristensen is relegated to P4, clearly struggling to match the pace of the Velocit¨¤ drivers. What a display of patience and execution from Walding!"


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 300 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 80 % (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 268000m


    -Time: 1hr 20 min ]


    **No need to worry, though. They can''t get close enough to execute a team formation. Just focus on finishing¡ªthis is in the bag**


    "Roger," Luca replied, tilting his car expertly through the last set of turns. Moritz was right. Congratulations to Dani Walding for securing P3, but if he had any plans to help Max advance further, he better drop them.


    Luca''s mind flashed back to telemetry data he''d poured over and countless hours of studying Velocit¨¤ team strategies from past races. Two Velocit¨¤ drivers together was a nightmare for any F2 competitor. He was well aware of the dangers, and Aaronson''s infamous defeat at their hands served as a brutal reminder.


    If you can''t keep up now, you definitely won''t see me later, hehe.


    [54th Lap]


    "Time to use that Sync Buff. Can''t let it just glow there for me," Luca muttered, his gaze flicking to the System interface overlaying his vision. He could hear varying chants from the Hungaro Ring crowd, horns blaring and even colorful smoke billowing into the evening sky.


    From England to Hungary, Luca felt unstoppable. Another victory was within his grasp. 25 more points, and he''d be one step closer to claiming the F2 championship title.


    He called up the Sync Buff notification again.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    With no hesitation, Luca selected Yes.


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 19 ???? 50


    Stamina: 25 ???? 50


    Endurance: 22 ???? 50


    Agility: 21 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 18 ???? 50 ]


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping/Spatial Awareness/ Night Mastery/ Grid Launch/ Slipstream Mastery]


    This is a no-brainer, Luca thought. There were skills that he obviously did not need to buff now, considering he was already leading the race by a firm margin. All he needed to do now was to select Skills that would enhance his driving and reduce the possibility of a crash due to the wild effects of Sync Buff.


    After little consideration, Luca decided to go with Reflexes, Track Awareness and Spatial Awareness. With these, he could know the wits around his car and the track. And if anything might swerve wrong, the heightened Reflexes would come to play.


    [Successfully Selected!]


    [Reflexes: 20 (+1) ???? 50


    Track Awareness: 20 ???? 50


    Spatial Awareness: 4 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 4 min. 59 sec left for Sync Buff]


    Luca suddenly realized this was indeed the last set of Skills he selected in Stadhaven. He chuckled as the system deftly increased his stats.


    Once the infusion completed, Luca felt a wave of sharp clarity rush through him, as if the world around him had snapped into perfect focus. His mind and body felt lighter, yet hyper-attuned to every detail. The subtle vibrations of the SomberCore under him, the faint shifts in the air as the wind danced along the track, even the precise angles of each curve and incline ahead¡ªeverything was suddenly amplified in his perception.


    [55th Lap]


    "...and P1 is looking grim for Max Addams. Luca Rennick is getting as far away as possible. Look at that speed!"


    **Keep going, mate. Keep going**


    The cheer from the crowd suddenly blurred once he reached the peak of his Sync Buffed effects. His SomberCore felt louder now, and his surroundings blended with the evening atmosphere as he navigated through all turns and sped down all straights.


    [Fastest Lap Attained!]


    [1:21.119]


    [57th Lap]


    [You are moving at 310 km/h]


    [58th Lap]


    "Alright, folks! EVERYONE should be on their feet!" McCauley hollered, standing at the edge of the pit box as Luca zoomed past the lane, Addams zipping through eleven seconds later. Such a gap!


    [59th Lap]


    [You have 2 min. 57 sec left for Sync Buff]


    "... there were a lot of talks about Luca Rennick starting at pole today. Could he convert it to another victory, or would he fall short? Here in Hungary, Luca Rennick is leading the pack at a terrifying speed through the turns, widening the gap between him and Addams..."


    "...Max Addams in P2, Dani Walding in P3. It''s quite a good result for Velocit¨¤. Perhaps, this is why Rennick is a beast up front. Twenty-five points is all he could get for Trampos after Hahn had fallen off. And even two more points¨CLuca Rennick is our fastest lapper today!"


    Luca zoomed past two lapped drivers, drivers still in the 59th Lap while others were in the 60th. He had half expected his System to count that as an overtake, but he was wrong. After all, they weren''t advanced opponents with no holographic number above their chassis.


    [You have 1 min. 40 sec left for Sync Buff]


    [61st Lap]


    **Two laps to go!**


    "...two laps to go in this Hungarian GP! Set up the podium, stewards! Cheer through the circuit. Luca Rennick is on the verge of winning his second consecutive Grand Prix!"


    Ansel''s eyes were glued to Luca''s Dallara as it danced through the circuit, a masterpiece in motion under the influence of the Sync Buff. With precision and flair, Luca commanded the car, extracting every ounce of speed and grip.


    He watched as Luca braked late into Turn 1 of the 61st lap with minimal loss of momentum. He exited the chicane after gliding seamlessly into Turn 3. He entered the middle section, a spark leaving his car''s rear signaling DRS engagement. His speed even became more disastrous through the short straight.


    "It''s like he''s plugged into the damn circuit," Ansel muttered, watching as the gap to Addams extended by three more seconds before the lap ended.


    [62nd Lap]


    **Final lap, Luca.**


    Luca grinned, his ears reddening as he repeated Hungaro Ring again, passing three more lapped drivers. "Tell Mama I made it," he said with a short laugh.


    **Oh no. You have to cross that finish line first. You''re good as zero points now, you know that?**


    "Ahh, no problem. No problem."


    [You have 40 seconds left for Sync Buff]


    My calculations were right. I''ll finish with it. Let''s go!


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 300 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 65 % (Fair)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 302000m


    -Time: 1hr 30 min ]


    "... dominant driving, exceptional driving. The crowd roars their approval for this as Luca Rennick enters the final sector..."


    Ah, there it is, Luca thought as the checkered flag unfurled in the distance, waving gently at him for his approach.


    "...contact with Bellingham wasn''t enough to bring him down. Two reclaims of P1, solo man on the field. Max Addams can''t keep up, Dani Walding can''t keep up... it''s a wonderful race in Hungary here, and Luca Rennick... he has crossed the grid. Luca Rennick has won the Hungarian Grand Prix!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s car zipped past the finish line with Sync Buff effects still active, though only for a few seconds longer. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He heaved a sigh of relief, reducing speed as the noise from the crowd crept into his cockpit.


    **You are an absolute beast, my man! Incredible work out there!** Moritz''s synthetic voice was nearly drowned out by the applause and roars of the crowd.


    [Sync Buff Elapsed!]


    [1ST POSITION]


    Luca''s grip on the steering wheel loosened slightly as his car roared in victory. "I DID IT! YES!" he yelled, punching the air inside the cockpit as his Trampos crew erupted into cheers over the radio.


    [Congratulations, host! You have made a podium!]


    "Yup! I made the freaking podium," Luca whispered, slowing his car and weaving side to side in a serpentine motion, letting the cold air cool his brakes. Beginning his celebration lap at Hungaro Ring, he raised his gloved hand out of the cockpit, saluting the ecstatic Trampos fans lining the third section of the circuit.


    "Second....Max Addams!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    "Third... Dani Walding!"


    A round of applause spread through the grandstands as Dani Walding was cheered for making his first podium. After that, the cameras focused on Luca as he maneuvered through Turn 12, still waving to the crowd.


    When he finally entered the cool-down zone, Luca exhaled deeply, his heartbeat steadying. His System deftly went offline, granting him a satisfying dark peace in his helmet. "We did it, Luca. Let''s go," he murmured before unstrapping the cockpit belts and pushing his body out.


    "1st Position, 21, Luca Rennick!"

 Chapter 105 Hungarian Grand Prix 7: Turmoil In Triumph

    The podium was mounted for the seventh time this season as the seventh round of the F2 championship concluded, with one Trampos driver and two Velocit¨¤ drivers dominating the Hungarian GP leaderboard.Luca rushed to his team in the paddock as soon as he climbed out of his car, leaping into their waiting arms. They erupted into cheers, hoisting him high as champagne burst prematurely from several bottles. McCauley led the charge, spraying anyone within range. The celebration was electric, with the Trampos paddock roaring in triumph over Luca''s second consecutive Grand Prix win.


    Laughing, Luca finally extricated himself from the throng and headed deeper into the garage, where Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton awaited him. The transition from the chaos outside to the relatively quieter interior struck Luca as surreal. Evening had fallen over the circuit, and the bright floodlights cast sharp shadows, amplifying the lingering energy of the day.


    "You did well. Are you alright?" Ms. Vallotton asked, her sharp eyes scanning him for any signs of strain.


    "I definitely am!" Luca grinned, his excitement undimmed.


    "Good. Wonderful race, wonderful driving. Get a towel around your neck and head to cool off," Mr. Grant added, trying to keep his tone even, though his pride was evident. In truth, when Ansel''s car had crashed earlier, he feared the day would end disastrously for Trampos.


    Luca greeted more of the team on his way to the cool-down room, swept up in the joy of victory and the warmth of his colleagues'' congratulations. He peeled off his gloves, his fingers finally relaxing after gripping the steering wheel with unrelenting focus for over an hour.


    Entering the cool-down room, Luca felt the roar of the crowd shake the walls. It was a strange contrast to the stark white of the room, designed to offer a moment of respite. Mr. Moritz greeted him with a playful but firm slap on the back.


    "You showed that scruffy bloke that the podium is for the big guns!" Moritz joked, referring to Luca reclaiming P1 from Kristensen, who held the position only briefly.


    Luca chuckled, accepting a towel handed to him. He sank into a seat, letting his muscles relax for the first time since the race began. On the screens before him, race highlights replayed¡ªthe overtakes, the breathtaking pace, and the critical moments that defined the event. Watching the replay was almost surreal, like experiencing the race for the first time. The tension in the crowd was palpable even through the footage.


    As the screen transitioned to a clip of a crash, Luca''s stomach dropped. He watched as Ansel''s car veered off at Turn 6, the rear end losing grip before slamming into the barriers. The force of the impact made him wince, the slow-motion replay capturing every devastating detail. The commentators'' voices overlapped, describing the chaos and confirming Ansel''s early retirement from the race.


    Luca sat bolt upright. He had completely forgotten Ansel and his DNF.


    Ansel''s crash had been a pivotal moment in the race, and Luca had been so consumed by his own battle for the podium that he hadn''t even checked on his teammate.


    Heart pounding, Luca grabbed his water bottle and stood. "Where''s Ansel?" he asked Mr. Moritz, who glanced up from the replay. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He was just in the paddock. You didn''t see him?"


    "Nope. I''ll go check," Luca said, leaving the cool-down room without hesitation. He weaved through the garage and returned to the paddock, which was still thrumming with energy. There, he was told Ansel had gone up to the dressing room.


    Luca heaved a sigh and headed to the escalator, his footsteps quick and purposeful. Walking through the halls, he soon reached the dressing room and stepped inside. Ansel was standing near one of the benches, methodically packing his duffel bag. His movements were calm but deliberate, as though he was packing more than just belongings¡ªperhaps thoughts or frustrations that lingered. He definitely was.


    Luca''s gaze swept across the room before he stepped aside to let two crew members pass. Both were young women, and as they exited, they patted his shoulder and cheered in passing. Luca offered a soft smile but felt a twinge of disappointment because they''d inadvertently revealed his presence to Ansel.


    Ansel, however, didn''t even glance back.


    "I don''t think we''ll be leaving for another two hours," Luca began, lingering in the doorway.


    Ansel took his time before responding, his focus still on his duffel bag. "Yeah, I know. I just like to pack ahead. Makes things easier later, especially when we''re stumbling around drunk." He straightened his posture and turned, standing tall at an even six feet. Ansel had an appealing masculine frame, far better than Luca''s. He turned around, offering the nicest smile he could. "Congratulations, man. Second Grand Prix for you."


    Luca narrowed his eyes slightly, scrutinizing his teammate before shaking his head. The gesture seemed to confuse Ansel, who spread his arms in mock bewilderment. "What?"


    "That was the weakest congratulations I''ve ever heard," Luca said, stepping further into the room. "It wasn''t even remotely genuine. I know you''re bummed about your fate today. I''d be angry and sad too."


    Ansel let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he zipped his bag shut. "It''s somewhere between anger and sadness, honestly," he admitted, his voice having this touch of resignation. "But still, congrats, man. I mean it."


    "Thank you," Luca replied, aiming to sit on the bench beside the bag. Before he could, someone entered the room in a rush, face flushed. "Luca? Media wants a word."


    Luca sighed, running a hand through his hair before rising to his feet. "First-place responsibilities," he muttered under his breath.


    "First place responsibilities, indeed," Ansel replied with a faint smile. "Don''t worry about me. Go on, handle your moment. I''ll be out of here before it''s time for the podium."


    Luca nodded, offering a quick glance of reassurance before jogging out of the room to catch up with the crew member waiting in the hall. As they made their way through the winding corridors of the paddock, Luca''s thoughts churned.


    He couldn''t shake the weight of Ansel''s disappointment. A DNF on the very first lap wasn''t just frustrating¡ªit was humiliating, especially for a driver of Ansel''s caliber. Luca understood the frustration, even empathized with it.


    To him, Ansel''s sullen mood was justified as anyone in his position would feel the same. Still, Luca hoped the disappointment was rooted in the sting of the early retirement itself and not tinged with resentment over his own victory. He promised himself he''d be there to support Ansel through the slump¡ªso long as the gloom stemmed from his own setback, not bitterness over someone else''s success. At least, Luca hoped.

 Chapter 106 Reset

    Just after the podium celebrations, Luca was surprised to see Miles approach him to congratulate him on his second victory. He felt that was odd as Miles, his personal rival, was the only driver to do so. Others could only make use of the silent treatment, eyeing each other whenever and plotting how to climb to the top.Luca and Miles'' conversation went smoothly as both silently agreed to speak as if they didn''t know each other personally. They both cracked a few jokes within the short time they spoke and actually chuckled genuinely to their jokes before greeting each other off. Right after that, all moods reset as Luca resumed his celebration and Miles, his sulking over the crash that had ruined his race.


    Luca recalled everything they spoke about, and he couldn''t help but laugh softly. That was surely the Miles Bellingham he knew, always questioning him for unnecessary details as though he needed them for anything. He had asked about Luca''s mother and sister, the questions trailing to Luca''s personal sponsors and any possible training regime he followed. Miles prodded around, aiming to discomfort Luca, who wasn''t buying it. Luca remembered Miles even quipped about the champagne spray on the podium, hinting that Luca was getting better at aiming it¡ªpossibly the most useless feedback he''d ever given.


    Luca returned to the team, free of any obligations to the Federation, and could now focus on Trampos. This included the waiting fans, of course.


    He stepped up to the barrier with a wide grin, waving toward all those donned in red, black, and white. His first interaction was with a young boy and his sister with their parents. The boy was holding a mini replica of Luca''s single-seater. He could tell because of the #21 etched on its chassis. Luca wasn''t sure if the boy really bought that or if it was custom-made. "You have my car? Wow," Luca said, crouching down. "What''s your best part about it, mm?"


    It turned out the little boy wasn''t yet good with English, so his parents helped him understand by translating to German and vice versa for Luca. "The speed through the turns, he says," both parents said to Luca at once after the little boy blurted something out.


    "Definitely!" Luca signed the tiny car and nodded to the boy''s parents. He looked around at the crowd, all eager to get a personal interaction with him before the sky could get even darker. Luca double-clicked the pen, knowing he had a long time ahead of him.


    --------------------------


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Host should begin his Daily Routine] S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca rubbed his eyes, heavy with sleep, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The room was a void of silence, its darkness wrapping around him like a cocoon. He sighed softly and leaned forward, his hand searching for the switch of the sidelamp. He found it within seconds and dragged it down, producing a soft click. A golden glow spread across the room, chasing the shadows back into corners and illuminating the space in a muted radiance.


    "June 10th, Monday," Luca said to himself as he remained seated, the light settling on his face and highlighting the angles of his jaw.


    [Certainly, host. That indeed is today''s date]


    [Host should begin his Daily Routine]


    Luca sighed again before rising to his feet. He gave a quick hop to fire energy into his body before strolling to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He switched on the lights, grabbed his toothbrush, and applied the toothpaste with a measured amount. Soon the scrubbing of his teeth followed, slightly echoing off the tiles of the bathroom.


    When he was done, he washed and dried his face with the same organized precision. The cool water did its part to clear the remnants of sleep, leaving him sharp and his facial features brighter. He exited the bathroom and stepped back into the dimly lit room.


    The faint glimmer of his trophy caught his eye as it reflected the bedside lamp''s golden light. The trophy sat prominently on the sole cabinet in the room, exactly where Luca had placed it. He paused, his gaze fixed on it as he couldn''t get over the sight of crafted victory.


    He walked across the room to touch it for the day, his fingers brushing its sleek surface before caressing the silver base where his name was etched alongside the GP and year. Luca smiled, knowing he had one particular trophy in his sights¡ªthe overall F2 world champion trophy. That would be the one he''d keep. Any Grand Prix trophy would go to Sophia and his mother.


    Luca got dressed in his conventional tracksuit and sneakers. He decided to have an empty mind today, free of music and words, as he strapped his wrist with a Catapult watch.


    He left his accommodation seconds later, closing the door behind him. He was based in the Vasliget Training Center''s accommodation areas. This marked the team''s fourth day in Hungary, and within the next day, their stay in this center was set to expire. They were expected to leave for Berlin or find another accommodation in Budapest or elsewhere.


    Luca walked down the dark corridor in solitude. He sneezed countless times, the sound resonating through the walls. The faint smell of chlorine lingered¡ªsomething Luca was very sensitive to. He quickly remembered the nearby indoor pool, where they had celebrated on Saturday night.


    The stillness in the training center was oddly grounding. It seemed everyone had slept in for the day, even though it was a Monday morning. Considering the extended celebrations following Formula 1''s podium on Sunday, Luca understood how everyone, including them¡ªan F2 team¡ªwas tired.


    He greeted a janitor who was pushing a mop bucket around before approaching a set of broad glass doors at the end of the corridor. Pushing them open, Luca revealed himself to the gym. He stood at the doorway, observing the dimly lit space and how quiet and empty it was. The silence here was even deeper.


    Luca licked his lips as he got ready to begin. He had missed yesterday''s Daily Routine because the celebrations had disrupted his sleep, but he was determined not to miss today''s.


    Rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension from the night, he stared at the doors before deciding to close them from the inside. This tranquility was rare, and Luca was determined to turn this gym into his sanctuary.

 Chapter 107 A Morning Of Milestones

    [Good job, host. You can now proceed to the next phase of your daily routine.]Luca offered a positive response before settling comfortably on a bench, taking a moment to relax his muscles. He was fortunate to have the gym entirely to himself throughout his session; no one had even tried knocking on the locked glass doors. Beyond the gym, he could still make out the faint silhouettes of figures moving about, attending to their duties.


    Taking a sip of refreshing chilled water, Luca felt revitalized. He then decided to tidy up his workout area, ensuring everything was left as it should be. Once satisfied, he gave a simple command: "System, display attributes, including Skills."


    [Host status generating...]


    [... Generation completed]


    [Strength: 19


    Stamina: 25


    Endurance: 22


    Agility: 21


    Intelligence: 18 ]


    [Skills & Techniques: Total Grade - B


    Pitstop Prodigy: 7


    Corner Chopping: 6


    Straightaway Chopping:3


    Spatial Awareness : 4


    Night Mastery: 2


    Grid Launch: 3


    Slipstream Mastery: 3


    Others (Completed)


    Others (Locked) ]


    "Display completed skills."


    [Certainly, host.]


    [... listing resumed]


    [Reflexes: 20 (+1)


    Overtaking Skill: 20 (+5)


    Track Awareness: 20 ]


    "That''s cool," Luca said. "Still not enough to grade me A. Hmm. A must be tough, then."


    [System''s analysis indicates that host is nearing a significant milestone, with Skills approaching Grade A. Based on the growth chart, host''s progression is optimized for a swift transition to the next level. However, System will terminate calculations and leveling assistance once host attains the S Grade.]


    "Oouuh. S Grade? I like the sound of that," Luca whispered as he stepped into his room. He closed the door behind him, tossing his gym towel onto a chair and slipping off his sneakers with practiced ease. Stretching his arms overhead, a soft groan escaped him as he loosened his muscles. He grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the small fridge by his bedside, taking a deep sip before sinking into the bed. Reaching for his Catapult watch, he checked his progress logs, replaying the System''s words in his mind.


    "No SS or SSS, just S?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow at the digital interface.


    [Yes, host. The threshold is S Grade]


    "Alright," Luca said, sitting up right. "Hide Display."


    The System promptly disappeared, leaving the room eerily quiet. The sudden stillness caught Luca off guard, and he found himself momentarily lost, listening to the faint hum of activity beyond his room¡ªcrew members exchanging muffled words and wardens tending to their tasks. His phone rang abruptly, startling him.


    He grabbed it from the nightstand. It was Sara on the line, informing him that she had just entered the K?sz¨¦li District and would arrive at the training center within minutes. Her words jolted Luca back to reality.


    Shoot, Luca thought. He''d completely forgotten about today''s commitment. His schedule was packed, and the day held something entirely outside the realm of single-seaters and racing circuits. As an ambassador for Fijee, the energy drink brand also sponsoring Trampos, he was obligated to attend a promotional event there in Budapest.


    The event¡ªas he was informed¡ªwas likely going to be more than a convention, an orchestrated marketing spectacle where Fijee would showcase its products to the public. Luca couldn''t understand why the management insisted so strongly on his attendance, even after Sara tried to negotiate a compromise on his behalf. It''s not like he was much of a star yet. Either way, it was stated in his contract and he had to oblige.


    Realizing he only had a few minutes to prepare, Luca moved quickly. He ducked into the bathroom for a rapid shower and emerged fifteen minutes later, his mind preoccupied with what to wear.


    Luca realized he didn''t have any of his Fijee branded polo shirts with him. He figured it might make the outing much easier with a plain casual, but fitting attire. He sighed and went with a gray blazer of his and dark jeans.


    Grabbing his phone, he stepped out of his room just as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the windows. The corridor was calm, sparsely populated with Trampos crew members beginning their routines. Luca nodded greetings to those he passed, his stride steady as he headed toward the canteen. He needed something quick to eat before Sara arrived.


    There, Luca indulged in a hearty breakfast, savoring the meal to kickstart his day on a positive note. Halfway through his meal, however, his phone buzzed. It was Sara, calling to inform him that she was waiting outside the gates. Apparently, she had no intention of dealing with the hassle of the training center''s stringent security protocols. Luca hurried through the rest of his meal and left quickly. On his way out, he managed to greet most of the crew, though some, like Ansel, opted to stay indoors. He couldn''t help but wonder why the team hadn''t simply booked a full hotel for everyone¡ªit would''ve been far more convenient.


    Exiting the Vasliget Training Center was as needlessly stern as entering it, but Luca managed to get through without much trouble. Outside, he spotted a lone vehicle in the quiet area and made his way toward it. Without hesitation, he opened the passenger door and slid into the front seat, glancing at Sara, who looked like she hadn''t gotten enough sleep.


    "New ride, huh? It''s nice," Luca remarked, letting his eyes roam appreciatively over the Ford. It had an understated sophistication, perfectly balanced between an SUV and a crossover.


    Sara yawned, waving a dismissive hand. "Company car. Nothing special."


    Luca nodded and leaned back in his seat. "So, where''s the event being held?"


    Straightening in her seat, Sara sharpened her focus. "It''s at the BDC Center. They''re hosting a brand showcase, so be ready to make an impression... I think."


    Before Luca could respond, Sara revved the alive car, shifted into gear and navigated the car onto the quiet morning road.


    It didn''t take long before they were weaving through the main streets and roads of Budapest, heading toward the BDC Center. They arrived a few minutes past nine, moving steadily in a queue of cars leading to the grand venue. Luca could see many people bustling around the entrance, some carrying banners or promotional material.


    The air was alive with the sound of chatter and vibe as event staff guided vehicles and attendees. Near the entrance, clusters of media personnel with cameras and microphones were stationed, ready to capture the day''s highlights. Business representatives, influencers, and fans sporting Fijee merchandise added to the vibrant scene.


    "Are you with your ID?" Sara asked abruptly, the Ford cruising smoothly down the path.


    "ID?"


    "Yes, your ID as a Trampos driver," Sara clarified, giving him a sharp glance. "You aren''t with it...?"


    "You didn''t mention¨C"


    "Are you freaking kidding me?! How are we gonna get in?!"


    Before Luca could respond, a heavy hand landed on the car''s roof, causing a slight jolt. A stern-looking security officer peered through the window.


    "Good day, ma''am. You''re heading into an official area. May I ask your purpose here?" the officer asked with a Scandinavian accent.


    Sara offered the most polite smile she could muster. "Good day. We''re here for the event. He''s one of the brand ambassadors," she said, leaning back slightly to give the security officer a clear view of Luca.


    "Do you have identification, sir?" the officer asked, his gaze shifting to Luca.


    Luca shook his head. "No, I don''t." Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "He''s an F2 driver. Trampos Racing," Sara interjected quickly. "He won the last¨C"


    The officer''s expression shifted as recognition dawned. "Oh! Luca Rennick?"


    Luca nodded. "Yes."


    The security officer''s demeanor warmed instantly. As a new and enthusiastic fan of F1 and F2, he quickly recalled seeing Luca prominently displaying the Fijee logo during races. It seemed credible enough to him.


    "Wonderful race on Saturday, mate," the officer said with a grin. "I''m still torn between Trampos and Velocit¨¤, but I''m leaning toward full Trampos support by the next GP."


    Luca could only smile. He thought of a response, but his sealed lips betrayed him.


    The officer gestured toward the far-right lane. "Proceed through Gate 3 and follow the signs to Visitor Parking. Enjoy the event!"


    "Thanks," Sara said, giving a quick wave as she eased the car forward. As they passed through the gates, she muttered, "Plus one thousand popularity points for you. But if you forget your ID again, you''ll have even cringier encounters. Believe me."

 Chapter 108 Fijee Branding & Bonds

    Once they settled deeper into the venue, Luca and Sara were promptly attended to after Luca''s official recognition. They were led into the sleek, modern building, away from the open spaces where people bustled about. Inside, their paths diverged as Sara was advised she could sit in the front row, take a spot in the backroom, or relax at one of the canopies outside.Preferring fresh air, Sara decided to head back out, but through an alternate route that led her to one of the Fijee-branded canopies. Meanwhile, Luca was guided further inside and informed that he needed to prepare.


    Just like he anticipated, Luca was provided with a fresh outfit tailored for the event. It included a dark blue polo shirt with a bold, deep red Fijee logo embroidered prominently on the chest. Though denim pants were suggested, the attendant assured him that his dark jeans would suffice. She then handed him a matching blue face cap to complete the look and led him deeper into the building.


    They entered a corridor behind the large conference room, where a middle-aged man stood waiting. Introducing himself as Mr. Kessler, Fijee''s regional coordinator, the man greeted Luca with a firm handshake and a warm smile. "It''s good to have you with us today, Luca," Mr. Kessler said. "Congratulations on your win at the capital. That''s one of the reasons why your presence has created so much buzz among our team and audience. Let me give you a quick rundown of what to expect and how this will work."


    Okay....


    Luca nodded attentively as Mr. Kessler outlined the schedule. And as the man spoke, the reality of his role sank in. Mr. Kessler informed his role included a short introduction and a full outdoor engagement which involved a question-and-answer session. Luca could tell his job today was to satisfy the excitement of those who genuinely attended for Fijee and those who were there because a motorsport driver was being brandished.


    "Got it," Luca responded with a confident smile.


    Mr. Kessler then ordered for the attendant to take him to the backroom for a quick touch-up to make him camera-ready. The attendant gestured for Luca to follow. He obliged, walking briskly behind her while exchanging polite greetings with the staff bustling through the hallway.


    As they neared the backroom, a booming voice suddenly pierced through the ambient noise, halting Luca in his tracks.


    "Where is he?!"


    The masculine tone carried a sense of urgency, and Luca instinctively turned toward the source of the commotion. From across the bustling backroom, a young, dark-skinned man weaved his way through the crew, his eyes locked on Luca with unmistakable purpose.


    The man came to a stop in front of him, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Han''s teammate?" he blurted, his British accent crisp and genuine. "What''re you doing here, mate? And where''s Han?" Sear?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca blinked, momentarily thrown by the question. The young man''s demeanor was friendly yet laced with impatience, and Luca quickly pieced together that he''d been mistaken for someone else. "Ansel''s not here... is he supposed to be?" Luca asked with a steady voice.


    Yes, indeed. Just like Luca, Ansel was another brand ambassador for Fijee, and this event was one of many he was obliged to attend. However, Ansel had declined weeks ago.


    "He''s unpredictable at times," the young man said with a sigh, introducing himself as Kendall Jackson. Kendall was a sports athlete as well, though branding Fijee for a sport worlds apart from motorsport. Kendall, at 21, was the star right wing back for one of England''s top soccer teams, Manchester Red.


    Having spent most of his life in the heart city of soccer itself, Luca was no stranger to the sport. He knew the Manchester teams were top-tier, and for Kendall to be their star wing back, he had to be exceptional.


    Luca extended his hand. "It''s nice to meet you. Full name''s Luca Rennick," he said, shaking Kendall''s hand firmly.


    "Oh, I know pretty well," Kendall replied with a wide grin. "First Position, 21, Luca Rennick!" he exclaimed, mimicking Hungaro Ring''s announcer from Saturday. "Man, you were on fire! Congrats!"


    Luca chuckled. Before he could respond, Kendall launched into a lively recount of the race.


    "The whole thing was insane! I barely had time to grab my popcorn, and¡ªboom! Han loses a tire," Kendall said, shaking his head. "Man, that was rough. Real bad for him."


    "Yeah," Luca agreed, the memory flashing in his mind. "He had some real bad luck."


    The attendant motioned for them to keep moving, and Kendall tagged along, still chatting animatedly. "Since he''s not here, I guess you''re my new mate to talk with. So, what''s your role today?"


    Luca settled onto a stool in front of a mirror while a makeup artist touched up his face. She didn''t do anything at all¡ªjust applied a hint of concealer to even out his skin tone and a light powder to reduce shine.


    "Not much," Luca replied, glancing at himself in the mirror. "I''ll be around the canopies most of the time, talking to fans, I guess."


    The makeup artist patted his cheek, signaling she was done, and Luca stood up. He noticed how tall Kendall was compared to himself, his broad shoulders and athletic build making him look more like an American football player than a soccer star. "What about you? What''s your role today?"


    Kendall grinned, the energy in his eyes sparking. "Oh, I''ve got something bigger on my plate. I''m actually unveiling Fijee''s new performance drink line today. Big stage, cameras, and all that jazz," he said, motioning dramatically as if mimicking a crowd. "Apparently, I''ve got to give this epic speech about how it helped me bag my last game-winning assist. No pressure, right?"


    Luca raised a brow, intrigued. "That''s actually cool..."


    "Plus, don''t tell anyone¡ªI''ll be on the cans in the next production, holding a ball with a bolt of lightning zipping out of my eyes. Now that''s cool," Kendall whispered conspiratorially.


    Wow. Luca wondered how much Kendall was earning from Fijee for something like that. "Sounds intense," Luca said, amused. "And you''re not nervous?"


    "Not at all," Kendall said confidently. "I''ve been in the industry for quite some time."


    They began walking again, the lively hum of the event buzzing through the halls. As they approached the main area, an organizer caught sight of Kendall and waved him over. "You''re up in five minutes, Mr. Jackson!" she called out.


    Kendall sighed. "Well, that''s my cue. Wish me luck, mate," he said, giving Luca a friendly pat on the shoulder before heading toward the stage area.


    "He''s a natural performer," his attendant said, watching Ken disappear as if she admired him. "He influences a lot of teenagers. Come, I''ll take you to the outer post."


    Luca adjusted the cap he had briefly removed during his session with the makeup artist. Following the young woman, he exited through the far end of the backroom corridor. They navigated through the venue''s backyard, weaving past various setups until they entered a smaller building filled with Fijee staff.


    "Everyone, this is Luca, the Formula 2 driver," his attendant introduced him with a bright smile. The crew, dressed in branded Fijee attire with pristine white gloves, paused briefly to acknowledge him. Some offered polite waves, while others nodded enthusiastically.


    The space was stacked high with crates of Fijee energy drinks, almost a thousand, forming a colorful mosaic of the brand''s signature design. Luca couldn''t help but wonder if they were really planning to hand them all out for free.


    ''Hey! It''s not just energy, it''s endurance. Fijee has been a game-changer for me. It fuels me and my car.''


    This was what Luca was given to say to the public when the time came. He studied and memorized the words, doing things as well as he could.


    When the time came, Luca engaged heartly and warmly with the attendees. It was a smooth, engaging performance, and even the Fijee team members nodded in approval as they carried out their role effectively too.


    Sometime later, Ken appeared in the space, a wide smile plastered across his face. He said he was eager to join in on this role as it seemed more fun and engaging than his own gig. Without hesitation, he was handed a cap and white gloves, blending seamlessly into the staff¡ªaside from his hulking figure.


    Next came product sampling, just as Luca had suspected. The stacks of Fijee cans were indeed meant to be handed out for free. Luca and Ken joined in, working side by side as they distributed crates of the drink to the crowd. They also posed for countless photos with fans, making the moment unforgettable for attendees.


    It wasn''t until later that Luca realized he''d skipped lunch entirely. Glancing at the time, he saw it was nearing 3 PM. Sara, who had driven off earlier, returned with a meal in hand. Luca thanked her profusely and devoured the food, chatting with some of the Fijee crew as he ate. They seemed genuinely intrigued by his career, peppering him with questions about racing and his future ambitions.


    Eventually, it was a few minutes till four o''clock and the event was winding down. Everyone, staff, ambassadors and management were called back to the stage in the main building for a closing group photo. Though everyone was tired, the photo managed to capture a residue energy of the day.


    Ken wasted no time heading back to his team, who were already prepping a convoy of four SUVs for departure. Before leaving, he scanned the area for Luca, genuinely wanting to cement the connection they''d made. Spotting him chatting with Sara near one of the outer canopies, Ken jogged over with his signature wide grin.


    "Ayo, mate!" Ken called, slowing to a halt. "My team''s all set, but I didn''t wanna leave without this."


    Luca turned, curious. "What''s that?"


    Ken pulled out his phone and held it up. "Let''s exchange digits, yeah? Gotta keep in touch. We''ve got more rapport to build."


    Luca chuckled, pulling out his own phone. "Sure, why not?"


    The two quickly exchanged numbers before Ken jogged back to his team. Luca pocketed his phone, a small smile lingering on his face.


    Sara, standing beside him, crossed her arms and fixed him with a stern glare.


    Before Luca could react, she kicked his shin, nearly sending him off balance.


    "Oof! What was that for?" Luca exclaimed, stumbling but catching himself.


    "Let''s go," she said.

 Chapter 109 The Price Of Progress

    The team returned to Berlin the following day to wrap up the seventh round of the championship season, as all teams now had their sights set on the eighth round.The eighth round of the season was likely going to be special, as it held the Spanish Grand Prix. And as far as Luca could recall, Spain was a very festive nation whenever their schedule for Formula driving arrived.


    Usually, the streets leading to the circuit, whether in Madrid or Barcelona, would be lined with flags and fans from all walks of life. There would be an atmosphere of celebration stretching even far from the race''s venue and throughout the country. It was because of this energy that the Federation often scheduled Spain as one of the countries to host the season''s final Grand Prix or Mega Prix in other words. This was why Luca was surprised to find out that Spain was scheduled to host the eighth round, with just four more to go right after.


    Either way, Luca was glad that he would participate in the Mandalora, as everyone called the circuit instead of saying the long Circuito del Barca¨CRaval, located in Barcelona. It was a magnificent circuit, one he could confidently claim to know like the back of his hand from all the descriptions he had come across over the years of his life.


    Luca took in a deep breath of the damp air as he stepped out of a private cab, the smell of last night''s rain still lingering in the streets and roads of Mitte. He found himself standing before a quaint fast-food restaurant that had a sense of old-world grandeur. He had heard the restaurant was extremely costly and grandiose, making him wonder why Mallow had chosen it for their meetup.


    When did he start having an eccentric taste? Luca asked himself as he followed other visitors entering with purpose.


    Luca found a quiet, secluded table to the right in the open reception area, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of Mallow. The place was a strange mix of luxury and convenience, and it felt odd to be here, waiting. He slid into the chair and let out a sigh, his fingers brushing against the menu resting on the table. With a quick glance, he picked it up and began reading through the offerings.


    All Luca could see were absurd figures; even a simple soda was priced at $10 for a small.


    Luca scoffed, leaned back, and dropped the menu, letting his mind wander as he waited for Mallow. His thoughts drifted to a certain Formula 1 race he had managed to watch while still in the heat of his Racecraft program. The race had been held at Circuito del Barca¨CRaval as well, two years ago during the Mega Prix of the season. It was the same season Haddock Racing had clinched their last championship title, although their driver hadn''t actually won the Mega Prix. That alone spoke volumes about the fiercely competitive nature of the top division.


    The victory went to Hank Rice, whose commanding performance sealed Nevada''s place in the top five. His win, famously at the Mandalora MP as the race was often called, also played a decisive role in blocking Bueseno Velocit¨¤ from amassing the points needed to overtake Haddock Racing in the constructor standings. Ailbeart Moireach''s consistent efforts midseason for Haddock was what solidified their lead.


    However, the players'' standings painted a different picture. Davide DiMarco of Bueseno Velocit¨¤ emerged as the drivers'' champion that season, a testament to his remarkable consistency across the calendar. Meanwhile, Hank Rice''s triumph in Mandalora propelled him to fourth place overall, and Ailbeart Moireach secured second. Marco Rossi of Jackson Racing rounded off the season''s top three, completing the podium standings.


    One could only imagine how tense the season was and how suffocating the rivalry amongst the drivers grew. The MP only displayed a fraction of the level of competition all the GPs had unveiled.


    Luca''s thoughts flickered back to the present.


    For some reason, he had a feeling Mallow would burst into the restaurant at any moment. To his surprise, the thought proved accurate as Mallow appeared at the door, dressed in a dark coat¡ªas usual¡ªand was just taking off his glasses. That meant he had been wearing shades outside, though the sky was cloudy. Typical Mallow, Luca thought, raising a hand to catch his agent''s attention, ensuring Mallow spotted him right away.


    Mallow approached the table, hung his coat neatly over the back of a chair, and sank into the seat opposite Luca with a sigh of relief. He leaned back slightly, looking as though he had finally found a moment to relax.


    Impatient, Luca jumped straight to the point. "Why did you pick this place? It''s so far."


    "You''d prefer a public spot? I see you''re enjoying the attention these days," Mallow said.


    "Wha¡ª? No, I''m not," Luca shot back, realizing what Mallow meant. This restaurant''s controlled atmosphere likely ensured visitors wouldn''t react the way a crowd at a public spot would if they recognized him as Trampos'' Luca Rennick. Mallow was saying this because right after the team''s return from Budapest, there was a swarm of crowd waiting at their headquarters! Luca had no idea such many Germans were intrigued by motorsport, let alone Formula 2. They had crowded their gate and the surrounding areas to cheer the team and most importantly, Luca for winning his second F2 Grand Prix with his teammate down.


    It took nearly an hour for security to disperse the crowd and allow Trampos'' convoy of buses and trucks to enter the premises. Trampos'' team officials had been adamant in advising Luca and his fellow drivers to avoid mingling with the crowd, not out of disregard but out of caution. The atmosphere, though celebratory, was unpredictable, and the sheer number of people posed safety concerns.


    Luca shrugged, folding his arms. "Now, I''m hungry, and a meal here costs a kidney," he said.


    Mallow laughed. "Don''t worry, we won''t stay long. Let''s just discuss some important things that need full understanding," he replied. "First and foremost, we really need to land and finalize this deal with Hawthorne. Her team and I have scheduled the second signing after the next race in Barcelona. We might stay an extra week to complete everything. I want to know if that schedule is fine with you."


    "It is."


    Mallow nodded, silently satisfied. Truthfully, he wouldn''t have given Luca much choice, as he was determined to lock in the deal with Mrs. Hawthorne as soon as possible. "The second important thing now, which I really didn''t see coming¡ªa contract extension," Mallow said, watching Luca''s face for his reaction.


    Contract extension? Luca thought, his mind racing to understand. "You mean Trampos wants to extend my contract length?" he asked for clarity and Mallow responded positively.


    Luca was shocked.


    "They''re offering something tangible, Luca," Mallow said in a near whisper, sensing Luca was already gearing up to reject the offer.


    "How many years?"


    "Four more years."


    Four years? No way. I can''t.


    Trampos had clearly recognized Luca''s exceptional driving talent and the potential heights he could reach. It was no surprise they offered a new contract overlapping his current two-year deal. However, Luca was satisfied with the original two-year arrangement, given the rarity of one-year deals in sports. He had no intention of committing four more years to an F2 team, especially when his sights were set on reaching Formula 1 by the end of this year.


    Luca loved Trampos Racing, but no, he had a journey to keep on moving and a system that expected him to be in F1 by next year. Signing a four-year deal with Trampos was just going to jeopardize the possibility of making it into the top division. It was simple sports math in Luca''s opinion. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I don''t think I can do that, man," Luca said firmly. "It''s too much."


    "Luca, they''re offering to multiply your current salary by twelve. Twelve!" Mallow exclaimed, still keeping his voice low. "Do you even realize what that means? That''s $600k plus!"


    Luca groaned, side-eyeing Mallow with a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Don''t tell me this is all about the money," he muttered, though his thoughts briefly entertained the number. It wasn''t even the amount, but the rate of increase Mr. Fisher and his board had decided to fix. $600,000 for an F2 driver was enormous, unheard of, even. It is quite high, Luca thought.


    He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "I like the offer," Luca admitted, "but they''ll chain me down, and I won''t make it to F1."


    Mallow''s frown morphed into an amused smile. He rubbed his temples, laughing softly. "This is exactly why you sport athletes need an agenting team," he said with a chuckle. "It doesn''t work that way, Luca. You''re afraid of staying stuck in F2? A contract won''t decide that."


    The aroma of bacon lingered in the air, causing Luca''s stomach to growl. He cast a brief glance at a nearby table, where a magnificent meal had just been served, then turned back to Mallow. "I don''t understand."


    "Listen, Luca. It doesn''t matter if you have a ten-year deal with Trampos. If an F1 team wants you, they''ll get you. Why do you think Trampos is so eager to keep you, hmm?" Mallow explained. "And Trampos doesn''t have an F1 team, which means no rivalries to complicate things. If an F1 team comes calling, it''ll be easier than you think. Plus, with this new deal, your market value will skyrocket¡ªand so will your future salary."


    Luca stared at Mallow, mulling over the explanation. He wanted himself to accept the understanding. "So, at the end of it all, it''s just about the paycheck, isn''t it?"


    Mallow chuckled, twisting the cap off the free bottled water on the table and taking a long sip. "Maybe," he said with a shrug.


    "And how sure are you that an F1 team will come buying me from Trampos?" Luca asked.


    Mallow leaned back, his expression growing sharper. "And how sure are you that an F1 team will sign you for free when your two-year deal ends?" he countered.


    The words hit Luca like a ton of bricks and that was when the understanding seeped into his brain. Oh.


    "So," Mallow continued, sensing Luca''s shift in understanding, "the best move is to follow this path. Worst case? No one comes for you, but you''re still earning $600k. Best case? An F1 team signs you, and you leave Trampos with over $3M in your pocket¡ªdepending on the team¡ªplus a transfer fee that reimburses Trampos for their investment in you. Win-win," Mallow finished. "So now you understand, young lad. Would you put your signature when the papers are ready?"


    Luca bit his lip. This was a daring move of his career he was about to take. But from Mallow''s explanation, not taking this move would even demolish his career. So he accepted, hoping and praying Trampos gets an offer by the end of the season. All he needed to do was drive exceptionally well.


    Mallow''s face lit up. "Good! That''s my boy." He snatched up the menu with renewed enthusiasm. "I think we''ll be able to afford everything on this menu very soon. Why not start now?"


    Luca smiled, shaking his head as Mallow flagged down a waiter.

 Chapter 110 The Price Of Progress 2

    Once he finished the discussion with Mallow and their abrupt lunch, Luca returned to Trampos'' base.As on every free day, engineers were hard at work in the garages, while Trampos marshals lingered around the corners, exchanging casual banter. However, the core members of the team were nowhere to be seen¡ªlikely resting in the staff buildings.


    Avoiding unnecessary conversations, Luca climbed the stairs to his accommodation. His stomach was full, thanks to the bacon meal he had sniffed out earlier. He didn''t want to think about the price¡ªit had been far from reasonable. Mallow, shameless as ever, insisted Luca foot the bill.


    It was only 2 p.m., but the overcast sky and the heavy atmosphere made it feel like evening. Sighing, Luca stepped into his room, pausing in the doorway to survey it. Everything was just as he''d left it¡ªtidy, orderly, but to his eyes, utterly uninspiring.


    I really need to get the hell out of here, he thought bitterly, beginning to undress. He knew this setup wasn''t fitting for someone in his position. His career was progressing steadily, yet his accommodations didn''t reflect that. Even Victor, for all his reserved role, had his own house.


    If he wanted to establish a profile worthy of respect and admiration, he needed to elevate every aspect of his life. A serene, spacious environment wasn''t just a dream¡ªit was a necessity. A place for himself, for friends, and eventually, for family. And if he ever wanted to attract and keep the kind of girlfriend he envisioned, he had to break free from this surrounding of insignificance.


    Luca decided to relax by sitting on the foot of his bed as he removed his footwear.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been issued!]


    Oh? Something fun at least. What''s it?


    [-¡¤-JOG AROUND THE NEARBY 1000-METER TRACK TEN TIMES-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: COMPLETE BEFORE 10PM]


    [This will help enhance your cardiovascular endurance and improve your stamina.]


    "Uhm? Don''t you think you should be targeting my Strength and Intelligence so I could get them to 20 as soon as possible?"


    [Daily Quests are one of the System''s features that are randomly selected. System provides host with sessions that target Attributes.]


    "Okay."


    [Reward for Completing Tuesday Daily Quest: (EXP)


    - Endurance +1 ]


    [Consequence for Failing Tuesday Daily Quest: Punishment


    - Dehydration.]


    Luca''s gaze drifted toward the track visible through his window. He figured it might look strange if he just put on his full gear and some earpiece and began jogging deep in the afternoon. Instead, he decided to postpone the session, aiming for a more comfortable time¡ªperhaps around 7 or 8 p.m., well before the 10 p.m. deadline.


    After getting a sense of his surroundings, Luca relaxed on the bed, staring at the ceiling while mentally replaying the significant events that were going on in his life. His thoughts drifted to the conversation he had with his mother earlier that morning. She and Sophia were traveling to Cambridgeshire, eager to secure Sophia''s admission to a prestigious university. While the odds were slim, Luca trusted in Sophia''s natural intelligence¡ªsurely some of their parents'' brilliance lingered in her.


    Thinking about Isabella, Luca realized how little they''d communicated since their encounter in Birmingham. His mind wandered to Mr. Schafer, reflecting on how the man was handling the fallout of his title being stripped. Luca figured Miles and his agenting team must have dropped Schafer by now, which was bitterly ironic given Schafer''s instrumental role in shaping Miles Bellingham''s career.


    Luca picked up his phone and scrolled through his messages and call logs. Hesitating for a moment, he tapped the call button and dialed Isabella''s number for the first time.


    The call connected and was answered almost immediately, though to Luca it felt like an eternity.


    "You. You finally called me, mm?" Isabella''s vibrant voice emerged from the speaker, jolting Luca into a seated position on the bed.


    He was lucky to have called her at lunchtime when she was free. Isabella was now part of an unofficial innovation group for single-seaters and related equipments, and she typically worked her mind just as much as she worked with hands too. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Right after her engineering school ambitions didn''t go as planned, Isabella still sought for activities still in the field of motorsport instead of taking a whole different course as many advised. Now part of ''Grid Edge'', a small group of freelance and contracted innovators specializing in racing-related equipment, Isabella felt fairly comfortable while still helping her father battle with everything.


    Luca did his best to focus the conversation on her even though Isabella kept asking about him and his endeavors.


    She mentioned it has always been quite a dream for her not to repair four-wheelers, but make them, and this included all kinds of four-wheelers, single-seaters most especially. Whether it was the engine or chassis itself, Isabella seemed determined as she kept saying she''d change the nature of Formula driving someday.


    Just as their conversation was growing deeper in depth, Isabella announced she was twenty minutes past her lunchtime and needed to get back to work.


    Luca responded with understanding, and they scheduled another call for the following day. After ending the call, he set his phone down and stood from the bed, surprised at how much time had passed.


    Feeling bored, Luca weighed his options: dive into the comics he''d bought but never read, study more telemetry data from past races, or watch the races themselves.


    He opted for the latter, reasoning he''d have plenty of time for comics after the season wrapped up. Plus, he needed something to help him pass the hours until dusk, when he planned to tackle his Daily Routine quest.


    Grabbing his headset from the desk, Luca slipped it over his ears and powered on his laptop. Once the Bluetooth connection was established, he navigated to one of his bookmarked folders filled with recordings of past races.


    Just as excited as he was after watching the Mandalora MP of last two seasons, Luca wanted to experience the same thrill again. He opted for last season''s finale, Portim?o MP which was held in Portugal. He planned to watch both F1 and F2 and see how Max Addams lifted his F2 world champion trophy on that final evening.

 Chapter 111 The Price Of Progress 3

    The new Vallotton¨CGrant administration could pat themselves on the back after savoring 25 points from the Hungarian Grand Prix. Now, their focus shifted to accumulating better numbers over the remaining course of the season.The team had one and a half weeks to prepare for the eighth round of the season: the Spanish Grand Prix. As Luca had reflected the other day, the Spanish Grand Prix was one of the most important and popular races on the calendar. Teams often approached it with the mindset that losing in this GP could leave a lasting stain, given how memorable Mandalora GPs tended to be.


    Either way, Mr. Grant and his deputy aimed for a decisive and confident win in Barcelona. They planned to make effective use of the training days before the day in July. Mr. Grant''s approach involved a series of rigorous drills, including telemetry analysis and high-pressure pit stop simulations designed to shave precious milliseconds off their stop times.


    He also focused on refining his drivers'' precision with tailored sessions to perfect their cornering speeds in high-degradation zones. These sessions simulated Barcelona''s challenging Circuito del Barca¨CRaval layout, with its demanding turns, such as the infamous Turn 8 and the final chicane.


    The plan for Mr. Grant and any other astute Team Principal was to leave nothing to chance, ensuring their drivers dominated the circuit while meeting Mandalora''s high standards. With Circuito del Barca¨CRaval featuring 72 Laps, it was crucial and important for drivers to endure the long period of racing rather than spend both physical and engine energy on duels and unnecessary speeding. And to accomplish this, the best way was to hold a commanding lead from start to finish.


    Mr. Grant and Ms. Val could''ve easily aligned the team''s training scheme ahead of the GP to a more definite and comfortable strategy, just like Mr. Grant had done throughout the first half of the season. By knowing where their drivers would start on the grid a week before the race, they could effortlessly craft a beneficial strategy and basic moves to help solidify or improve performance on the track.


    But now, it was different. The grid positions would be determined by Sprint Races or any other qualifying activity the Federation decided upon. Either way, all teams'' management would be unable to discern their drivers'' positions until two or three days before the race, which was relatively little time to make significant changes.


    This posed a tough challenge for Mr. Grant and Ms. Val, but they believed they could overcome it. After all, this was the usual grid-determining routine every year.


    The problem, however, was that the stakes were higher now. Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr was so close to Trampos Racing in the standings that even a single position ahead could totally change the team''s standings, which currently looked like this:


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -----------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 206


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 181


    3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 104


    4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 94


    5. | Retona Racing | 45


    At the moment, the standings were shaping up to be one of those seasons that promised anything but a peaceful ending. Normally in Formula 2, the leader would have a solid 70 to 100-point advantage, with second place holding a similar gap over third. This time, though, things were much tighter.


    With both Ansel and Miles failing to finish their races, Trampos'' comfortable lead had shrunk significantly, and Squadra''s aggressive chase to overtake Velocit¨¤ had slowed down, leaving them at a bit of a stalemate. Retona Racing seemed unlikely to compete for the top three, and it appeared that this was yet another season where they failed to be an elite team. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hatcherk, on the other hand, had experienced as many humiliating moments as they had moments of glory. Sean Aaronson would likely love to burn his tires for whatever qualifying activity would be set up. The fight wasn''t over for him.


    It was all these accumulating details that troubled Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton. Anyone¡ªeven an APX driver¡ªmight manage to claim a podium with this new structure of the grid. At this point in the season, other drivers had the opportunity to sparkle if they played their cards right and secured a satisfying grid position. This was precisely why Mr. Grant and other top Team Principals had wanted their drivers to amass massive points at the start of the season.


    Trampos had more personnel than ever, increasing the number of figures in the headquarters'' premises per training session. The atmosphere was lively, with everyone chatting and warming up for the day ahead. Luca found it surprising that no one mentioned a word about the new contract proposal that had been offered to him¡ªnot even Mr. Grant. Either only a few people knew, or the whole thing was strictly confidential and handled officially.


    Luca had kicked off his day with a long session with Amir, expecting to gain at least one additional point to his Strength attribute, which he had focused on. But there was none. He pushed through all exercises and activities without receiving a single system notification.


    When he was through with his private assessment, Luca planned to head out to the track where two cars were zipping through. He had expected them to be Ansel and Haas, but it was Haas and Victor, as he learned that Ansel had yet to arrive for the day.


    Luca found that odd because Ansel wasn''t one to be late. He wondered if Ansel''s tardiness had anything to do with his current mood regarding the recent results that hadn''t gone in his favor. Luca hoped his teammate could recover, shake it off, and focus on the tasks ahead. After all, Trampos was still leading, and all hope wasn''t lost.


    After suiting up in the uniform room, Luca stepped outside, stretching his arms and hopping into the air every few strides to loosen up. The crisp air hit him as he wandered toward the track, his focus momentarily distracted by the rumble of engines growing louder.


    Before he could react, Haas and Victor''s cars screamed past him on either side, roaring down the track at breakneck speed. The force of their passage nearly knocked him off balance, leaving his ears ringing and his footing unsteady.


    Luca froze for a moment, his scattered hair falling into his eyes, before brushing it back into place. The crew on the other side erupted into cheers and laughter at his near-miss. He shook his head, half amused and half frightened, before carefully crossing the track, weaving between the lingering exhaust trails to join them.

 Chapter 112 Visiting A Spanish Cathedral

    "...this is your captain speaking. We are now beginning our descent into Barcelona-El Prat Airport. Local time is 9:23 a.m., and the weather is partly cloudy with a temperature of 23 degrees Celsius. Please ensure your seatbelts are fastened, tray tables are stowed, and seats are in their upright position. We thank you for flying with us and hope you enjoy your stay in Barcelona."Ansel tapped Luca once the announcement came on, snapping him out of his daze as he stared at the endless clouds while harsh instrumentals drummed into his ears. Startled, Luca yanked out the earpiece, adjusted his seat, and complied with the safety instructions as the plane began its descent.


    First time in Spain, Luca thought, trying to recall any popular team that hailed from the magnificent country. Haddock Racing was the giant of Spain, towering over every other team across all divisions.


    He also remembered Harry and his team, OLAC, which originated from Spain. Luca realized that the tension of the season was slowly stripping away the little bond he and Harry had managed to form during their short stay at Grey-Husson''s. He wondered if they''d have a chance to meet and hang out during their stay here, preferably after the main race.


    Determined not to forget, Luca promised himself he''d message Harry as soon as the plane landed. Perhaps, he could even bring Ansel along if Harry acknowledged the meetup. Luca recalled the last time the three of them hung out; Ansel had genuinely enjoyed himself, ending the day in a cheerful mood. Right now, Ansel was the opposite of that, and Luca believed this might be just what his teammate needed.


    The plane''s tires kissed the tarmac, and the cabin rattled slightly as it rolled to a gradual stop. After a brief pause, a cheerful chime sounded, followed by the captain''s voice announcing their arrival and permitting the passengers to disembark.


    Shuffling erupted as the Trampos Racing crew gathered their belongings. Filing out of the cabin, they descended the stairway to the warm welcome of air wardens standing at the ready. The wardens greeted them with bright smiles and draped colorful garlands of plush material and leis around their necks. It was a gesture of hospitality that hinted at the vibrant spirit of Barcelona.


    Afterward, they were led as a unit, passing through customs smoothly, granted more efficient movement through the airport than other travelers. Once through the formalities, sleek black shuttles awaited them just outside, all engines purring softly.


    Luca sat quietly as he chatted Harry right away while the shuttles moved through the cityscape, the scent of the Mediterranean breeze unmistakable. Finishing his message to Harry, Luca switched over to communicate with Mallow and Sara, informing them of his arrival and sending Sara the address of their destination. When he was done, he put his phone away, cast a quick glance at Ansel¡ªstill looking subdued¡ªand turned his gaze to the sunlit streets, where masterpieces of architecture peeked through the skyline.


    Just as Luca expected, it didn''t take long before occasional banners and billboards promoting the upcoming race started to appear. The vibrant displays featured F1 racers with their intense gazes and polished helmets. It seemed Jackson Racing and Squadra Corse were locked in a fierce rivalry, as Antonio Luigi and Marcellus Rodnick dominated most of the promotional material.


    Some of the accompanying text was in Spanish, which Luca couldn''t fully understand, but it was clear the advertisements were all connected to the event. Public transportation, street corners, and even public buildings were covered with racing promotions. However, as their shuttles entered a quieter, more organized part of the city, the racing paraphernalia began to dwindle.


    This area still piqued Luca''s interest. Historic architecture dominated the skyline, a signature feature of Barcelona that gave the city its unique charm. Modern structures blended seamlessly with the old, adding to the grandeur and flawlessness of the surroundings. As the bus approached their destination, a smile tugged at the corner of Luca''s lips.


    The accommodation also served as their training venue. It was designed to be a seamless combination of functionality and luxury. Custom hotel buildings surrounded the training facility, with Trampos Racing''s logo prominently brandished atop the complex for the duration of the season''s eighth round alone. The sharp angles of the hotel structures contrasted with the smooth curves of the track at the center, where a slight bustle indicated preparations to welcome the F2 team.


    Luca pondered how many such facilities existed in Barcelona and across Spain, capable of comfortably accommodating both F2 and F1 teams while offering top-notch amenities and convenience. A faint smile crossed his face as he rolled his luggage toward his room. Upon opening the door, he paused to appreciate the room''s exquisite design. Cool, crisp air carrying the scent of fresh linens greeted him, while large windows showcased a panoramic view of the facility''s track. The modern and spacious interior featured a king-sized bed and one of the most cutting-edge TVs he''d ever seen in that year and time.


    Nice, Luca thought, rolling his bags further inside. He dropped onto the bed, letting out a soft sigh as he stared up at the expansive ceiling, briefly lost in thought. However, reality soon nudged him back, and he pushed himself up.


    He opened his bags, pulling out his clothes one by one and carefully folding them and placing them into the drawers. A pair of sneakers, his laptop, and a few toiletries went onto the small desk beside the bed.


    Once everything was in place, he glanced around with satisfaction. Despite it being morning, the weight of the day already seemed lighter. He was debating how to pass the time when a knock sounded at the door.


    "Erm, Luca," Ansel called. "The team''s heading to the circuit for the Track Walk. Are you coming?"


    Luca glanced at the door, stretching as he heard that energy in Ansel''s voice. The Track Walk. It was time to get a feel for the layout of the race day''s circuit, Circuito del Barca¨CRaval, study the corners, and mentally prepare for what was ahead. Although Luca knew Mandalora very well, it was still crucial to participate in this Track Walk.


    He grabbed his cap, slinging it on his head as he reached for his jacket that he had hung in the closet not so long ago. "Yeah, I''m on my way," Luca replied, already heading for the door.


    Opening the door, he met Ansel, dressed in a jean jacket and matching jean pants. They exchanged brief greetings before heading down the elegant hallway toward the elevator. The duo made their way out to the entrance of the complex where a small group of the Trampos crew were gathered. Mr. Grant, Mr. Moritz and Ms. Vallotton were currently not present, which made McCauley grant himself power, even with the presence of Mr. Colt.


    The crew boarded the shuttles again, this time bound for the renowned Mandalora. It had been Ms. Vallotton''s idea to include the visit as part of their schedule before diving into the rigorous training and drills that lay ahead of the qualifying sessions and the main race.


    Arriving at the venue ten minutes later, Luca stepped off the shuttle first, squinting against the late morning sun as he took in their destination. Mandalora was indeed a jewel, standing as a pristine canvas just outside the city. Luca could see why it was often referred to as a cathedral of motorsport¡ªand for good reason. Even the rest of the crew, who had visited here a couple of times in past seasons, paused to admire its undeniable beauty.


    The venue was massive even from the outside, its scale almost overwhelming. It was eerily quiet¡ªno fans, no bustling sponsors, no families of sponsors scurrying around in search of autographs. Only the hum of the shuttles powering down and the crunch of gravel underfoot as the Trampos Racing crew disembarked, feeling the almost surreal emptiness of the scene.


    The team was granted immediate access to the circuit, with no delays. Both F1 and F2 teams were allowed to visit the track before race weekends, and to avoid overlap, the Federation had created a strict schedule for each team''s Track Walk. This ensured teams could enter and leave without clashing. Missing an allotted session meant forfeiting the opportunity altogether. Trampos typically skipped these walks in most cases, but Mandalora was different. They now had a two-hour window to complete their Track Walk before the next team would arrive.


    "Damn," McCauley muttered, placing his hands on his waist as they entered Mandalora''s Section 1. "It''s like we''ve been handed the keys to the kingdom. Not a damn soul in sight."


    One crew member yelled something down the track, the words bouncing off the deserted grandstands and echoing back. There were no banners or flags of any team on display yet¡ªonly the flag of the nation, proudly positioned where the podium would eventually stand.


    The view was striking. The circuit meandered through scenic vistas of distant hills, bordered by sleek, modern stands that stretched endlessly toward the horizon. Mr. Colt noted aloud that the terrain was uneven in places, and a river ran nearby, adding a natural charm to the track''s design.


    They made their way to Section 2, where the grid was situated. Luca''s eyes roamed over the pit lanes, envisioning the flurry of activity that would soon take place there as their crew set up for race day. "It kind of feels like we''re intruding," he murmured, almost to himself. "This place is pretty cool with its silence."


    "It''ll be the exact opposite come Saturday, and even crazier on Sunday," Mr. Colt responded as he tried to wrangle the team, many of whom had started wandering off. "220,000 crowd capacity. It''s one of the largest by seating numbers and the only one that maxes out every time. Now, please, can we all gather together?"


    But before Colt could fully organize them, Dennis bolted ahead with three others, heading straight for the bottleneck at Turn 1. "C''mon, Erik, Beany, Luca!" he called, crouching into a runner''s stance. "One kilometer. Winner gets a hundred bucks from each of us."


    Luca and Victor quickly shrugged off their jackets, while Haas didn''t bother to respond. Despite their casual attire, Luca and the others were ready. Lining up with Dennis, they counted down from ten. When the countdown ended, they launched down the track, the slap of their sneakers against the pavement reverberating through the empty circuit. They completely ignored Mr. Colt''s calls to stay together.


    Victor emerged victorious, his long legs giving him the edge. By the time they returned, the team had split into smaller groups, leaving Mr. Colt sitting resignedly in a bleacher with Ansel, Haas, and a few others who had obeyed his instructions. "Are you guys done?" Colt asked, his tone flat. "Because I just got some intel about this round''s qualifying format." sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What is it? The usual Q-rounds?" Luca asked, catching his breath.


    "Nope," Mr. Colt replied. "Triple-Lap Qualifying. Each driver gets three flying laps to set their fastest time. The average of those three laps is calculated, and your grid positions are based on who has the best average. Oh, and there''ll be mandatory pit stops."


    That sounded fair enough to Luca. Instead of relying on the previous race''s results or a Sprint Race, their starting grid would be determined by consistent performance over three timed laps.


    Colt stood up, brushing off his pants. "Can we now start the walk? We''ve got about an hour and ten minutes left. Let''s reacquaint ourselves with Mandalora¡ªit''s been a while."


    McCauley, however, achieved what Colt couldn''t with a single shout, rallying the team effortlessly. He led the way to the next sections of the iconic circuit. "By the way," he said, pulling out his phone, "there''s a new app that can help us stay connected. It''s simple¡ªall you need is your phone number."


    Colt sighed, muttering under his breath, "This was my idea first."


    Unfazed, McCauley pressed on. "I''ll send everyone an invite. Once you join, we''ll have a direct line for important updates while we''re all spread out," he explained as the team moved forward, their silhouettes stretching into the horizon.

 Chapter 113 Spanish GP Awaits

    One day to qualifying day and four days to Saturday, the team officially kickstarted their drills in the provided facility. Luca woke up as early as usual and wandered into the gym at his normal time. Earlier, he had called Amir, asking him to come to the venue to assist with today''s session. Amir, who had traveled to Spain like the rest of Luca''s team, made his way into the facility and met Luca in the gym.Luca needed Amir''s help for certain activities his System had outlined for him, ones he couldn''t perform on his own. Amir arrived just in time, as Luca was wrapping up his initial exercises. Now, it was time to focus on the Strength Attribute. After all, it stood at 19, just one point shy of 20.


    [Today, host. We will be working on your Strength.] S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Strength is crucial for you, as it provides the physical power needed to endure the intense demands of an F1 car over long races.]


    [Enhanced Strength ensures better control of the vehicle, supports sustained performance during high G-force conditions, and helps maintain optimal posture and stability under pressure.]


    [Today''s session will focus on Weighted Pull-ups, Bulgarian Split Squats and Farmer''s Carry.]


    "I would like to go with Weighted Pull-ups, Bulgarian Split Squats, and Farmer''s Carry," Luca informed Amir.


    "That is some tough, core workouts. Are you sure, my friend?" Amir asked.


    "Yes. Let''s begin," Luca replied firmly.


    [EXERCISE: WEIGHTED PULL-UPS]


    [EQUIPMENT: WEIGHT BELT OR DUMBBELL]


    [Host is required to perform weighted pull-ups with controlled and deliberate movements, focusing on engaging the back and arm muscles to maximize strength gains while maintaining proper form to prevent strain or injury.]


    [This exercise will be done for 4 sets of 10 reps, progressively increasing the weight as strength improves. It targets the lats, biceps, and shoulders, enhancing upper body power and endurance crucial for handling the physical demands of racing.]


    Amir''s description of the exercise was less detailed than the system''s, but Luca understood they were the same thing. However, Amir did give him less repetitions than the System''s, but surely, Luca knew which directive to obey.


    Luca lifted his arms for Amir to adjust the weight belt around his waist, securing an additional load. Fortunately, the facility''s gym was as equipped as it was expansive. Everything needed was available, the environment calm and delightful with tall windows that gave a nice view of the 1.5km track.


    Luca nodded once Amir was done adding more metal plates to put extra weight. He could already feel it pulling him down as he stepped toward the pull-up bar, the metal plates clinking uncontrollably. Amir stood to the side to observe.


    Luca exhaled sharply, extending his arms fully to let the weight settle in before he pushed himself upward, taking in a strong, deep breath. His biceps contracted, his shoulders stabilized, and his core engaged fully as the heavy plates swayed slightly beneath him.


    "One," Amir counted after Luca''s chin cleared the bar and he lowered himself back down in a controlled descent. "Keep the rhythm.."


    Luca wondered where he even got the strength to do this as he repeated the motion, each rep feeling heavier as his muscles burned under the strain. By the fourth pull-up, sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breathing became sharper.


    By the time Amir counted the 9th repetition of the 2nd set, Luca''s arms were already trembling and his grip threatening to slip, but he powered on. Eventually, he barely completed all sets and descended for the last time, the weight plates clanking fiercely against each other.


    Amir walked over with a bottle of water and helped him unhook the belt. "I dunno why you pushed for more. It turned out tougher than it should have been," he said. "Are you okay?"


    "Yes," Luca replied, taking a short drink.


    [Good job, host. Moving on to the next]


    After taking a brief break, Amir and Luca resumed, continuing with Bulgarian Split Squats.


    [EXERCISE: BULGARIAN SPLIT SQUATS]


    [EQUIPMENT: DUMBBELLS OR A BARBELL, AND A STABLE BENCH OR PLATFORM]


    [Host is required to perform Bulgarian Split Squats with controlled and deliberate movements, focusing on balance and engaging the quadriceps, hamstrings, and glutes to maximize lower body strength and stability. Proper form is essential to avoid strain or injury, ensuring the knee remains aligned with the toes throughout the motion.]


    [This exercise will be done for 4 sets of 12 reps per leg, progressively increasing the weight as strength and balance improve. It enhances leg power and endurance, crucial for maintaining control and stability during high G-force conditions in racing.]


    Luca chuckled. Leg day it is, he thought, glancing around for a bench as the system required. He chose one out of many in the gym, and adjusted it behind him while Amir prepped the dumbbells.


    Amir placed the weights on the floor beside Luca and demonstrated the motion a couple of times for clarity. The task was to place one leg behind him on the bench, and the other planted firmly on the floor while he held the dumbbells at both sides. Luca would then lower himself until his back knee would almost touch the floor, while keeping chest up and core tight.


    Luca nodded as Amir explained demonstratively. He grabbed the dumbbells and slowly bent into action, his balance wavering momentarily before he steadied himself. Grunting, he lowered his body and pushed himself back up, repeating the process.


    It wasn''t as difficult as weighted pull-ups, but Luca could still feel the strain and pain. No point yet?!


    [No, host.]


    By the final rep of the fourth set, Luca''s legs were trembling. He set the dumbbells down and sat on the bench, wiping his face. "My legs are officially on fire," he said breathlessly, examining his calves.


    "That''s the point. C''mon, I hear engines on the track. Let''s wrap this up quickly," Amir said, rallying Luca to begin Farmer''s Carry.


    [EXERCISE: FARMER''S CARRY]


    [EQUIPMENT: DUMBBELLS OR KETTLEBELLS]


    [Host is required to perform Farmer''s Carry by walking with heavy dumbbells or kettlebells held firmly at their sides. The focus is on maintaining an upright posture, engaging the core, and ensuring a controlled pace to maximize stability and strength gains.]


    [This exercise will be done for 4 sets, with each set consisting of a 30-40 meter walk. The weight can be progressively increased as grip strength and endurance improve. Farmer''s Carry targets grip strength, forearms, shoulders, traps, and core stability, making it essential for building functional strength and improving overall body control critical for high-performance tasks.]


    "This is a very easy one," Amir said, explaining as he walked to a corner of the wide room with two dumbbells. He placed them at his feet once he reached the far end before gesturing toward Luca. "Grab these bad boys and walk straight to that wall and back," Amir said, pointing to a line about 20 meters away. "There should be no slouching and no wobbling."


    Luca approached rolling his shoulders. He crouched down, gripped the handles of the dumbbells before standing upright. He adjusted his stance, ensuring his shoulders were square and his back straight, just as Amir had instructed before taking firm steps forward to the other corner.


    Halfway to the wall, his grip started to falter but he managed to endure, reaching the end and pivoting to return back to starting point. Once he returned, he gently set down the dumbbells and slowly exhaled sharply. One down, three to go.


    [Good job, host. All activities assigned have been completed.] the System announced when Luca was done with all 4 sets.


    Luca relaxed on a bench while Amir helped him put back all equipments used during the session. When Amir was done, he patted Luca goodbye as they scheduled when next they''d meet.


    [Good job, host. You can now head over to the next phase of your Daily Routine. Your time in the gym today is over.]


    Luca quietly left the gym and returned to his room in the hotel. He had to relax a bit, eat, take a shower and head out to the track downstairs. Once he entered his room, he put on the TV to serve as a sound backdrop whilst he carried out all these activities.


    Soon, a knock came at the door just after his cold shower. Luca welcomed and thanked the hotel server before sitting down in just his towel to gobble down the meal. After finishing his meal, he took a brief moment to relax, navigating through his phone and the TV channels and letting the food settle.


    When he felt he was in good condition to perform, Luca got dressed in a simple t-shirt and plain pants before heading out. He took a very quiet elevator ride, finding himself on the ground floor seconds later. The fresh summer air was calm and a little bit stiff. Luca took in a deep breath before diverting into the dress room first to change into a racing gear. It was time to get suited up, and it was time for drills.

 Chapter 114 Spanish GP Awaits 2

    It was 6 PM in Barcelona, and Mandalora was prepped for the qualifying activity. Both F2 and F1 teams were present at the circuit, creating an eerie tension among everyone. The Formula 2 teams had one hour for their qualifying session, while the Formula 1 teams had the rest of the night to use as they wished. Not all F1 teams were present, some were yet to arrive¡ªonly senior teams like Squadra Corse, Bueseno Velocit¨¤, and a few others occupied a more secluded area. They were either prepping their single-seaters and crews or simply there to cheer on and mingle with their juniors.There were no fans, no spectators, no commentary, and no announcers. This was a private affair¡ªa rare occurrence in the racing world¡ªdesigned to allow teams to focus without the usual distractions.


    The circuit''s floodlights bathed the track and the empty grandstands in artificial brilliance as the evening sky grew darker by the second. All fifteen occupied garages buzzed with activity, the noise spilling into the pit lane and echoing across the track. Federation representatives were present, as were sharp-eyed marshals, ensuring everything ran smoothly.


    Luca found it fascinating to see all the registered drivers from the top two divisions of motorsport gathered in one venue. Antonio Luigi, Marko Ignatova, Marcellus Rodnick, Buoso Di Rienzo, Hank Rice¡ªthe list of twenty elite drivers and their reserves went on. Even F2 legends like Denko Rutherford and Dante Reyes were present. Luca noticed Denko in particular because Ansel had gone over to meet him a few minutes earlier. Denko, a former Trampos driver and Ansel''s old teammate, gave Luca the odd feeling that he was stepping into the man''s shoes.


    There wasn''t much time for rapport as the marshals announced the start of the F2 session. The atmosphere was cold and quiet, filled with soft, measured chatter. Any loud voice would instantly resonate across the 6km circuit, so everyone kept their tones subdued.


    Like every other F2 driver, Luca and Ansel were determined to secure good positions today. Now more than ever, a strong starting position on the grid mattered immensely¡ªespecially in F2, where all engines and chassis were on the same level. Maneuvering to the top with just skill and intuition was often a monumental challenge. Starting further up the grid wasn''t merely an advantage; it was a necessity.


    To ensure fairness and avoid any bias in the qualifying process, the drivers were scheduled to participate in the session in a structured alphabetical order¡ªfirst by their team names and then by their individual driver names.


    For example, the session would begin with the team whose name starts earliest in the alphabet. APX, for instance, would kick off the qualifying activity for the day. Their first driver, Conor Philips, would take to the track, completing his laps and posting an average time. Once Conor had finished his stint, his teammate, Sven Larsen, would follow suit. This sequence would continue with each team, moving down the list alphabetically, until the final team in the order, Vital Velocit¨¤, took to the circuit.


    Luca appreciated this arrangement, as Trampos Racing was the second-to-last team to participate. By that point, some F2 teams might have left, or the tension in the paddocks could have eased, giving him a slightly more relaxed environment to work in.


    All teams settled into their paddocks as the session began, watching Conor Philips roll out his green-and-black Dallara to initiate the event. The roar of engines soon filled the empty circuit, steadily building in intensity as each driver participated in the Triple-Lap Qualifying.


    This qualifying activity provided all the drivers with the unique opportunity to observe their rivals firsthand, watching how they handled the track and pushed their cars to the limit, all without the intense pressure of actual race conditions. It was a chance for every F2 driver to showcase their skill and make a statement to the F1 teams who were present, eager to prove just how competitive they were and why they deserved a shot at the big leagues.


    As the session progressed, Velocit¨¤ Jnr took to the track, with Max Addams and Dani Walding representing the team. Max, who had always shown consistent promise and ambition to be in Velocit¨¤''s F1 team, was determined to set a blazing pace. His laps were smooth and precise, with a calculated aggressiveness that pushed his average time to an impressive 1:39.842. Obviously, that was the most impressive so far. Dani Walding finished his 3rd lap and got an average of 1:40.540.


    With time, the calm competition heated up when Retona, Squadra Jnr, and Trampos Racing took to the track consecutively, following the alphabetical order. The three teams brought a tough sequence, each driver pushing their limits to outperform the others. The back-to-back display of talent and skill created a tense atmosphere, with every lap scrutinized by rivals and team strategists alike, knowing these teams often set the tone for the midfield battle.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synched with Dallara (F2 04)]


    Luca set out onto the track for his turn right after Ansel completed his stint. Ansel had clocked an impressive average time of 1:40.256. Though Luca was genuinely pleased for his teammate, he aimed to surpass that with an even lower average time.


    Once permitted, Luca left the pit lane for a free lap to heat up his tires. As he crossed the grid line, his timed laps officially began.


    [Host is attempting a Racing Task]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 300 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 107 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 4000m


    -Time: 55 sec ]


    The laps were quiet for Luca, filled only with the whooshing of his Dallara and the steady hum of his SomberCore reverberating through the empty stands. Mr. Moritz didn''t speak much through the radio at all, even the System hardly notified anything as Luca drove as fast as he could with perfection, gliding through straights and hugging apexes tightly.


    As he approached the finish line on his third lap, Luca applied calculated pressure on the brakes.


    [Activity completed]


    [Third Lap: 1:39.360]


    [Average Time: 1:39.210]


    **Good job, Luca! You were faster than Max by miliseconds. You got pole, no doubt!**


    Luca peeled his car into the pit lane, where the Trampos crew greeted him with applause. While one team still had yet to complete their laps, it seemed unlikely that any of their drivers would beat Luca''s time.


    "Yeah! Another Pole position!"


    At the end of the session for F2, the grid for Saturday was set, and it had this structure. There was some familiarity from previous grids, but this one came with surprises. Some new faces would be starting ahead in this Spanish Grand Prix, meaning fresh competition. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    P1¡ªLuca Rennick


    P2¡ªMax Addams


    P3¡ªAlbert Derstappen


    P4¡ªSean Aaronson


    P5¡ªAnsel Hahn


    P6¡ªOliver Kristensen


    P7¡ªMiles Bellingham


    P8¡ªBenjamin Taubert


    P9¡ªPeter De Klerk


    P10¡ªDani Walding


    Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton were really crestfallen after Ansel narrowly missed out on surpassing Aaronson''s and Derstappen''s average times. However, Luca''s triumph in securing pole position quickly lifted their spirits, filling them with anticipation for a promising points haul after the Grand Prix.


    With the grid officially determined, F2 teams were required to vacate the circuit within the hour, following brief press interviews and answering the many queries on teams'' and drivers'' minds heading into the weekend.


    Luca couldn''t suppress his happiness as he walked down the pit lane toward the press area, his broad grin infecting everyone who passed him. The tent-like tunnel buzzed with media activity, but something distracted him before he reached his destination.


    Passing by Haddock Racing''s garage, the team''s distinctive yellow livery gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, drawing Luca''s gaze. His attention locked onto one of their cars, partially visible amidst the bustling crew. One thing was certain¡ªit wasn''t a Dallara. A Renault? Honda?


    Luca had learned that Haddock Racing had been planning to switch engine and chassis makers. They had claimed the championship in the last two seasons with Renault, leaving Luca puzzled as to why they would consider making such a change. Was the plan merely a rumor, or had they actually gone through with it? To satisfy his curiosity, Luca edged closer to their garage and the mysterious machine, masking his approach under the guise of a friendly greeting.


    He addressed the crew members he could see, introducing himself confidently. "I''m Luca Rennick," he said, all the while inching closer to the car, gauging its proximity as per the Advanced Bundle''s parameters.


    As expected, the team wasn''t particularly welcoming. Their guarded demeanor was understandable¡ªafter all, it wasn''t every day that a junior driver boldly walked up to inspect a rival team''s car. Despite the chilly reception, Luca lingered just long enough to gather a solid assessment of the vehicle.


    [VEHICLE BEFORE HOST HAS BEEN DETECTED...]


    [ANALYZING VEHICLE''S DATA]


    [Vehicle''s status generating...]


    [... Generation complete]


    [Vehicle Specifications:


    Brand: Renault


    Model: R.S.16


    Engine Type: VY-08 Hybrid Power Unit (Rotterbad)


    Weight: 620 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 380 km/h (0 km/h)


    Acceleration: 3.5 sec


    Max Power: 720 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 90%


    Tire Condition: New


    Telemetry Status: Active


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    Hmm? Still the Renault? Luca thought, narrowing his eyes as he inspected the car. His gaze trailed over the vehicle until it locked onto the emblem of the engine makers. R.S.16? Hmm. It must be an upgraded version of the R.S.11 I drove, he mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Turning to leave, he waved a casual goodbye to the Haddock Racing crew.


    "System, can you describe this Rotterbad engine? B-level or A-level?"


    [Host has not been previously synced with VY-08 Hybrid Power Unit (Rotterbad)]


    [So data on Hybrid Power Unit (Rotterbad) cannot be retrieved]


    Luca frowned. You can analyze the chassis, but not the engine? Why''s that?


    [System needs to sync with host to the chassis in order to gain access to the engine''s details and capabilities. However, with Professional Bundle, host would be able to retrieve engine data without prior syncing.]


    "Right," Luca muttered, shaking his head. Guess I''ll have to figure that out later. He moved on, stepping into the press area.


    His steps faltered as he saw Antonio Luigi heading his way. The Italian F1 driver looked up and immediately recognized Luca¡ªthe F2 driver who had just claimed pole position that evening. That was all Luigi knew him as, and not the teenager he hit with his car four months ago.


    Antonio merely nodded curtly, not bothering with words, and continued on his way, heading out of the press area and back into the cool night air.


    Luca took in a deep breath and resumed his walk, heading over to the booth that awaited him. Questions came flying in, and he responded smoothly and confidently. Confident replies were expected from a pole sitter, even Ms. Vallotton shared the same camera with him as they informed what would be expected from Trampos and Luca on Saturday; a victory at the very least.


    Ms. Vallotton introduced Luca to Mr. Marcial Lugo, the head Team Principal of Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr team, whom she had worked with before she was discarded with her group. Luca exchanged official pleasantries with the man, although he could tell the man hated his guts. After all, Luca was responsible for Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr not currently at the top of the table. Luca disliked the man too, but the cameras made him smile.


    Just as the marshals had announced, all F2 teams prepped themselves for leave around 7:15 pm as the Formula 1 Spanish Grand Prix qualifying session was about to begin. Dallaras were dismembered, and garagers were cleared. Luca was able to meet up with Harry at the front of Section 1. The two hadn''t seen each other in a long while, so one could imagine how much they had to talk about.


    Harry, always creative, suggested that they hit the beach after the GP, suiting the current summer climate, and Luca accepted, wondering why he never thought about it. He also believed it''d be a good way to spark some life into Ansel. After his P5 qualifying, Ansel had a cloud over his head, a thunderstorm cloud. Beaches were fun, bright and sunny, everything that contrasted to his teammate''s mood. Luca loved the idea.


    He greeted and dabbed Harry goodbye before walking out of the section to the exterior of the circuit, the security leading the way.


    Luca entered the bus, right after Haas and Victor. He sat next to Victor while he operated his phone under the bright illumination of the bus''s interior light. The bus staggered and began its return to their accommodation in the city.

 Chapter 115 Focus From The Desk To The Track

    Luca practically jubilated when his system unexpectedly rewarded him with a point to his Intelligence attribute. It felt surreal, though perhaps he might have anticipated it. Seated at the desk in his cozy hotel room, Luca resembled a diligent steward, his attention laser-focused on the same Mandalora MP¡ªthis time, that of F2''s replay. Lap after lap, he immersed himself in the intricacies of the race, predicting and refining his assumptions of every driver''s maneuvers, even though the final winner was no mystery to him. What truly captivated him was mentally mapping out the obvious and subtle strategies, movements, and formations, since he had intimate knowledge of the capability of F2 04s and SomberCores. Unbeknownst to him, his Intelligence attribute had been on the cusp of leveling up. Now, it was proudly valued at 19.[Strength: 19


    Stamina: 25


    Endurance: 22


    Agility: 21


    Intelligence: 19 ]


    Now it seems you''re playing games with me, System, Luca mused, his thoughts briefly halting the race replay as his attributes displayed on the screen. Hmm, Strength must be getting close too. After everything I''ve been through this week, it can''t be far behind.


    Luca nodded as if to confirm his own theory. "This means I''ll keep rotting my brain with all this," he muttered aloud, his gaze shifting to the left of the table where the massive telemetry book sat, its massive weight was a physical testament to the profound knowledge it contained.


    Earlier that evening, Luca had joined the team for dinner in the hotel''s expansive dining hall. A hearty dinner that everyone participated in to give a brief jubilation for holding the lead on the table this far. It was the first ever for Trampos Racing in its history. The air had been filled with jubilation, though not everyone shared the moment. Some weren''t at the dining table. Ansel and Haas, for instance, were conspicuously absent. Haas''s absence was a predictable occurrence, and Luca figured Ansel was probably too tired to make the effort to come down. He had briefly considered heading to Ansel''s room to call him down but ultimately discarded the thought. Ansel''s older than me, Luca rationalized. He''s no child, and any action taken should be his decision. Resolving this in his mind, he had returned to the table, letting the team''s cheerful energy pull him back into the moment.


    Now, in the quiet solitude of his room, Luca sighed at the memory of the lively dinner. Rising to his feet, he prepared himself for what he knew would be a long night ahead. He was determined to push further in his Intelligence attribute, and what better way to fuel his focus than brewing a fresh pot of coffee?


    Luca asked his system to fully list his profile while he wandered over to the small kitchenette to prepare his coffee.


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Personal Information:


    Name: Luca Rennick


    Age: 18


    Nationality: Italian ]


    --------------------------------------


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 71 kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 32%


    Strength: 19


    Stamina: 25


    Endurance: 22


    Agility: 21


    Intelligence: 19 ]


    ----------------------------------------


    [Personal Stats:


    Nickname: None


    Status: 2 year contract


    Salary: $53,000


    Team: Trampos Racing S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Race Win: 2


    Podium Finishes: 4


    Pole Positions: 2]


    ------------------------------------------


    [Skills & Techniques: Total Grade - B


    Pitstop Prodigy: 7


    Corner Chopping: 6


    Straightaway Chopping:5


    Spatial Awareness : 4


    Night Mastery: 2


    Grid Launch: 3


    Slipstream Mastery: 3


    Others (Completed)


    Others (Locked) ]


    Luca sighed, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup and gripping it firmly. Skipping any extras, he turned and walked back to his chair. He wanted more stats before the season ended¡ªhis grading needed to hit an A, with more skills mastered and maxed out. The season was nearing its conclusion, with only four GPs remaining.


    Picking up his phone, Luca decided to check where he stood in the driver standings. Every now and then, he believed he needed to focus on his own progress, striving for personal victory.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    ------------------------------------


    1. | Max Addams | 127


    2. | Ansel Hahn | 107


    3. | Luca Rennick | 99


    4. | Miles Bellingham | 82


    5. | Sean Aaronson | 81


    Max Addams still held the lead, while Luca had climbed from fifth to third after Ansel''s and Miles'' DNFs. Winning the next race could move him further up, though he''d still need Max to drop points to catch up. Luca sighed again, switching off his phone. This isn''t easy, he thought.


    Taking a quick sip of coffee, Luca reached for the telemetry book filled with detailed data from the last Mandalora MP. Flipping to the required pages, he restarted the race replay at lap 45. As the single-seaters wove skillfully around the track, Luca immersed himself in the analysis, cross-referencing the live footage with the telemetry charts. It was a demanding task requiring sharp focus and precision, but Luca found it engaging. He worked meticulously, unraveling the intricate relationships between driver movements and performance metrics.


    By the end of the 72 laps, Luca exhaled heavily as he watched Dante Reyes cross the finish line first, claiming victory at Mandalora MP. Sean Aaronson followed in second, with Max Addams taking third.


    Rubbing his tired eyes, Luca gulped down the rest of his coffee, then closed the hefty book and shut down his laptop. Rising from the chair, he slid it neatly under the table and walked across the room to draw the curtains. With his nightly routine complete, he prepared for bed. Within thirty minutes, he was sound asleep, slipping into a subconscious dream of winning the F2 Spanish Grand Prix. The following day was race day, and Luca knew he had to make the dream a reality if he truly wanted a shot at becoming the Formula 2 World Champion on the final race day of the season.


    ------------------


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    The Sprint Race was set to begin at 11:30 a.m., with drivers expected to arrive an hour or two beforehand.


    Before 9 a.m., Circuito del Barca¨CRaval was already filled to 85% capacity and was sure to reach full attendance before late morning.


    The roads leading to the circuit were crowded with people and strings of flags that traveled down deep into the city.

 Chapter 116 Spanish Grand Prix

    "...Quinto lugar, Ansel Hahn...!""...Cuarto lugar, Sean Aaronson...!"


    "...Tercer lugar, Albert Derstappen...!"


    "WOOOOOOH!"


    "...Segundo lugar, Max Addams...!"


    "WOOOOOOH!"


    "...Pole Position, Luca Rennick...!"


    "...Damas y caballeros, prep¨¢rense, porque el Gran Premio de Espa?a de F¨®rmula 2 comenzar¨¢ en aproximadamente treinta minutos...!"


    "...Luca Rennick is at pole again for this Spanish GP. Albert Derstappen qualifies for P3 for the first time this season. This is the eighth round of Formula 2 and only seven teams have been mathematically predicted not to win the championship! The top eight could cling to miracles or make it happen themselves."


    Luca believed Ansel was now just being unnecessarily distant. If it was his recent form that might be causing this gloominess, Luca doubted it, considering this was actually Ansel''s best season ever in F2 when comparing his standings, number of wins, and podium finishes to previous seasons. And Luca was completely sure Ansel never displayed this kind of attitude when he and Denko were teammates. So, what could the problem be?


    Usually, he and Ansel would converse before the race about how they would execute their own personal strategies whenever they had the chance. They would even whisper about which rival to target and how to passively force them into a DNF if possible. But now, Luca and Ansel dressed quietly, no words shared, their individual minds racing. Ansel sat on a bench and performed his ritual as usual.


    Luca couldn''t pinpoint the origin of all this tension, but he had no time to dwell on it, his mind focused on the championship as it was nearing its end. That''s why he had the beach day planned out for them.


    Sitting at pole, Luca could feel the heat steadily growing in the cockpit, creeping up his feet and spreading to every part of his body as he listened to the majority of the crowd chant a well-known cheer, but in their native language. The first red light would soon appear, and they would officially kick off the Featured Race of the Spanish Grand Prix.


    With Max seated on the outside and Derstappen on the inside of row two, Luca was eager to see how this new structure of battle would unfold. Seventy-two laps would definitely not be an easy feat, and with some F1 drivers and managers present in the high glass rooms, one could say the winner of this GP would gain high recognition, especially given the legendary circuit they were competing on.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been Issued!]


    The quest is the race? C''mon, System, please don¡ª


    [-¡¤-EMERGE FIRST OUT OF THIS 72-LAP RACE-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: nil]


    [This will help improve your overall Attributes and Skills, making you use and implement them.]


    [Reward for Completing Saturday''s Daily Quest: (EXP)


    -Strength +2


    -Stamina +2


    -Endurance +2


    -Agility +2


    -Intelligence +2


    -Pitstop Prodigy +3


    -Corner Chopping +3


    -Straightaway Chopping +3 ]


    [Consequence for Failing Saturday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Persistent discharge of watery mucus from nose caused by forced Rhinorrhea.] S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca blinked twice to make sure he was seeing correctly. This was exactly what he had been waiting for! The System had issued a Daily Quest with rewards that could skyrocket his Attributes, potentially pushing Strength and Intelligence to 20¡ªsomething he had been striving for all this while.


    Luca smiled as his eyes landed on the +3 boosts to Pitstop Prodigy and Chopping skills. "What a great summer gift," he thought, his spirits lifted.


    "A runny nose? That''s just wild. If I fail this quest, a runny nose would be very bad for me," Luca muttered, shaking his head. The Daily Quest was simple in theory: finish first in Mandalora. But despite starting on pole, Luca wasn''t entirely sure how the race would unfold.


    He sighed and placed his trust in his abilities to win his third straight Grand Prix, inching closer to becoming the Formula 2 world champion.


    The second light flashed on. The third, the fourth.


    Max Addams'' fingers stiffened on his wheel as he glared hard at the grid lights, awaiting the fifth light and the moment they would all disappear. When the lights finally went out, he gritted his teeth and surged forward, aiming for a harsh early lead. But Luca launched commandingly off the line, taking charge and leading the pack out of their boxes.


    [Host is participating in an Official Race]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 110 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (Very Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 90m


    -Time: 2 sec ]


    With Grid Launch, Luca surged ahead with a solid push off the line, sending the Spanish GP into full throttle. Behind the scenes, Mr. Mallow and Mr. Fisher observed from the high glass rooms as the colorful Dallaras wove through the demanding 3rd Section of the circuit. Their conversation revolved around finalizing the lucrative four-year extension for Luca at Trampos. They debated the benefits of securing Luca''s talents long-term in the feeder series, discussed his marketability and constant potential for the Constructors'' championship contention, and reviewed the financial implications for both sides. Despite minor disagreements, both seemed optimistic about reaching an agreement soon.


    Mr. Mallow had earlier informed Luca that they were running on softs today, tires notorious for their quick degradation. The strategy was to pit around Lap 15, then reassess for the next stint. Luca, however, silently wished for harder tires, feeling that a pitstop so early in the race might not be the safest option, especially with Max relentlessly attempting to overtake him at every turn.


    Unlike F2 teams, Formula 1 teams often opted for harder tires due to the immense efficiency and power of their engines, which could wear down softer tires in mere minutes. In contrast, B-level engines like the SomberCore were typically paired with soft tires, as they balanced performance effectively. Soft tires were better suited to the power output of B-level engines, providing quicker responsiveness. On the other hand, harder tires, while more durable, could result in slower reactions and response if paired¡ªoften just a matter of milliseconds but still noticeable in high-performance scenarios.


    [3rd Lap]


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    The yellow flags waved out during the peak of growing action in the 3rd lap. Luca wondered why as he heard the roar and cheers of the crowd in Mandalora intensify than usual. He deftly adjusted his car''s readings to obey the yellow flags as he switched on the radio. "What''s happening?"


    **Track invasion, Luca. Spectators have overrun into Sector 7**

 Chapter 117 Spanish Grand Prix 2

    Luca couldn''t believe what he was hearing. The next thing he knew, the announcement of the safety car followed, as the situation demanded strict regulation.**Don''t worry. It happens sometimes. I knew this crowd was frightening. Five minutes to bring order is what the stewards have predicted. Try maintaining the heat of your tires**


    Luca swallowed hard, his mind racing with possibilities. What had caused the overrun? A fight? Or maybe the crowd was just intent on creating havoc for no reason at all? Whatever it was, he didn''t like the sound of it, nor the deafening roar of the crowd outside, the noise seeping through his helmet pads.


    He glanced at the yellow flags waving through his visor. With a deep breath, Luca shifted his focus and resumed obeying the instructions. He moved from left to right, maintaining a safe distance from the safety car while keeping his tires warm. Max Addams was right behind, waiting and preying until the five minutes elapsed.


    Luca wondered what would happen in the remaining 72 laps, since only 3 had been completed. Surely, this wouldn''t be the last attempt to storm the track, he thought. And in these few laps, the leaderboard had changed slightly, but the top three barely maintained their positions as Derstappen kept applying pressure on Max Addams over the chicanes, who in turn channeled the pressure to the pack leader, Luca.


    The major change over the three laps was only between P6 and P7, as Miles pushed himself further to where his competition most lay, overtaking Kristensen and now trailing behind Ansel as they all aligned behind the safety car.


    Mr. Grant''s best guess was that Ansel wouldn''t survive Miles'' pressure, as Baku, Bahrain, and Budapest had told such a story. However, he hoped Ansel could heighten his aggressiveness¡ªbut at a safe level¡ªas the team needed Luca to stay as high on the leaderboard as possible. To do so, Luca would need less competition and pressure at the lead.


    **Safety car is coming back in**


    "...Tras una breve interrupci¨®n, la carrera ha reanudado. La calma ha vuelto al circuito y el coche de seguridad ha salido. Luca sigue al frente, seguido de cerca por Addams y Derstappen!"


    "...Luca Rennick resumes the race. He moves down the grid...and we are underway. Max Addams wastes NO time, but Rennick maintains strength. Addams should watch out for Derstappen on his slipstream! The trio make Turn 1!"


    [2nd Position closing in] Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Host has unlocked Skills to disclose opponent]


    Max is no ordinary opponent, system, Luca mused as he took a straight line that served as an inner tangent to the apex of Turns 1 and 2, granting him a smooth entry into the bendiest section, Turn 3.


    Circuito del Barca¨CRaval featured a wide uphill corner at Turn 4. From this vantage point, the faraway mountains and valleys came into view. Perhaps, Luca thought wryly, if a driver went mad enough, they might choose to shoot straight off the cliff instead of navigating the turn.


    Luca led into Turn 4 after a brief stretch connecting the leveled part of the circuit to the uneven terrain ahead. Max Addams, capitalizing on Luca''s slipstream during the short first straight, lined up beside him, ready to pounce on any moment of vulnerability to overtake.


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 0.5 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might decrease and not in your favor.]


    Surely, if Miles had been driving an F1-rated car like the Rotterbad-powered single-seater Luca had spotted the other day, Luca knew his chances of holding onto P1 would have vanished instantly. However, with both of them piloting SomberCore-powered Dallaras¡ªthe hallmark of F2 machines¡ªevery driver in the feeder series could always sense the moment an overtake was imminent because they all knew what the B-level engine was capable of. Luca''s System predicted that might happen if he didn''t take action.


    Max adjusted his brake bias as Derstappen entered Turn 4 just as they exited, trailing by two seconds. Miles studied Luca''s car as it smoothly transitioned from Turn 4 to Turn 5, marking the start of the slower downhill section. This left-hander carved a precarious path along the mountain''s edge, plunging through breathtaking natural landscapes before returning the drivers to the visibility of the Mandalora crowd. The lack of grandstands at Turns 4 and 5 made the section feel solitary, heightening the tension of the race.


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 80%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 60 km/h]


    That is a big drop in speed!


    The left-hander demanded precise braking control, especially given its sloping and also curved nature. Prioritizing a clean exit with optimal traction was crucial, as Turns 6 and 7 followed immediately with a challenging, tight complexity. Luca had noted this during the Track Walk the previous day, but he hadn''t anticipated the speed recommendations to be so conservative. Perhaps it was time to begin tweaking those values slightly to his advantage. Even though these particular two turns of Mandalora had claimed many crashes over past GPs, Luca trusted himself to remedy such a situation.


    [Speed: 80 km/h]


    [2nd Position closing in]


    The soft cheer of the crowd intensified as Luca''s Dallara appeared at the horizon, Max just right behind with Derstappen poking into view a second later. Luca had attempted Corner Chopping twice, yet he wasn''t even sure if one attempt had worked or if none had worked at all. He would have surely received a notification if both had worked well. Considering he had managed to hold Max off this long as they entered the complex chicane, Luca believed one Corner Chopping must have worked after all.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Impatient, Max Addams made a move to change the leaderboard.


    "...Addams dives to the inside on the exit of the chicane. He''s using Luca Rennick''s slipstream to its full advantage, closing the gap as they approach Turn 8. Rennick attempts to shut it down, but Max Addams is daringly slotting in!"


    Luca felt his chassis vibrate as his back tires bumped softly against Max''s front tires. The soft contact felt almost as though the cars had touched themselves for real. The track flattened out and led them into Turn 8, a very tight bend, the crowd''s favorite for obvious reasons.


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 60%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 110 km/h]


    Luca made his cut into Turn 8 first, the car dipping sharply as he aimed for the perfect apex. His hands trembled slightly¡ªwhether from adrenaline or sheer effort, he couldn''t tell.


    [2nd Position]


    Max followed seamlessly, shadowing Luca''s line with unnerving precision, drifting just behind him.


    [1st Position]


    "Shit!" Luca cursed as he felt zero downforce on his car at the pinnacle of his drift. Within seconds, he lost traction in his back tires, the turn too steep coupled with the momentum he had entered with.


    [Traction drastically low...]


    Max Addams suffered the same fate as Luca, but he smartly used Luca''s car as a pillow. The slight nudge helped act as a stabilizing force for him to steady his curved trajectory and prevent his own car from slipping out.


    The moment Luca''s car absorbed the minimal impact, Max seized the regained balance. He adjusted his straight line and shot out of Turn 8.


    "Damn it!"


    [2nd Position]

 Chapter 118 Spanish Grand Prix 3

    On that same lap and turn, Albert Derstappen attempted to capitalize on the moment, hitting the turn fiercely, fully aware that Luca''s car would serve as a cushion if his tires suddenly lost traction. His plan worked perfectly, but Luca managed to regain traction and accelerated as fast as he could from the right, where Derst had come from.However, his momentum was too low after that encounter, which surprisingly didn''t penalize Max the way he had expected.


    While still building speed on the short straight leading to Turns 9 and 10, Luca was powerless to execute even a decent Straightaway Chopping, allowing Albert Derstappen to claim P2 as they approached the chicanes.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    [3rd Position]


    **It''s alright. Keep driving. Tires worn out real bad back there. Box two laps earlier**


    "Copy," Luca replied, taking a deep breath as Derst''s black-and-golden rear wing danced with power before him. He could hear his SomberCore growling softly beneath the chassis as it worked to reduce speed while they weaved through Turn 9''s bottleneck and transitioned into Turn 10.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 5 seconds away, host.]


    [4th Position closing in]


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [4th Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might decrease and not in your favor.]


    Isn''t that Aaronson?


    "...Sean Aaronson has closed the gap as Rennick struggles to regain speed after the tussle..."


    "...ahora en P3, Luca Rennick, ahora en P2, Albert Derstappen!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    [750m Straightaway ahead]


    Aaronson''s morale took a significant hit as Luca chopped him out of Turn 10, widening their gap by an extra, valuable second. Frustrated, he cursed under his breath and pushed his car aggressively out of the turn, determined to close the distance on the longest straight of the circuit. At the very least, he could capitalize on Luca''s slipstream, knowing how challenging it was to deny an opponent that advantage on such a stretch.


    Luca, however, was already reaping the benefits of Derst''s slipstream as they sped down the straight. While Aaronson advanced with reduced drag, Luca''s Slipstream Mastery ensured he maintained, if not slightly widened, the gap between them, skillfully leveraging every advantage the race dynamics afforded him.


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [4th Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value would increase in your favor]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 4 seconds away, host.]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 3 seconds away, host.]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 1.8 seconds away, host.]


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [4th Position is 5 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value would increase in your favor]


    **Nice speed there, Luca**


    [You have successfully defended your position. Keep it up, host]


    The long straight ended abruptly at Turn 11, a sharp right-hander that transitioned into the steep ascent of Turn 12, a section that rewarded boldness and punished hesitation. Luca had no intention of hesitating. Closing the gap to Derstappen by 0.4 seconds, he veered to the right, aiming to attack the bend first.


    It was a daring gamble, tackling a tight corner that led onto a sloping asphalt instead of opting for the broader line that Derstappen had chosen for better visibility and control. Luca''s risky decision promised a potential 2-second lead due to the track''s unique structure, while Derst''s cautious approach offered peace of mind.


    Bravery is my name, Luca thought. He had navigated this same section conservatively over the last four laps, mimicking Derstappen''s moves. But now, in the heat of a duel, he needed to chart a new course¡ªan opportunity to master every lane of Mandalora.


    [Track Span Analysis: 5 meters wide (inside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 1.7 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.8 meters] [Margin for Error: 2.1 meters (1.95 meters on the left side, 0.15 meters on the right)]


    As he braked, Luca felt the violent lurch of his car as it clung precariously to the track. The turn''s sharpness, coupled with the narrowing lane, was unforgiving. His car''s frame skimmed dangerously close to the track''s edge, a single misstep threatening disaster. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You''ve got guts," Derstappen muttered as he caught a fleeting glimpse of Luca''s red-and-black Dallara darting through the tight, aggressive inside line¡ªa path no Team Principal would ever endorse.


    **Try block him before he comes out, be quick** Squadra Corse Jnr''s team engineer ordered quickly.


    But Luca''s audacity paid off. Weaving expertly through the narrower, faster line, his car surged up the hill with an exhilarating burst of speed that left Derstappen scrambling to recover.


    Luca''s hands remained steady on the wheel as he emerged from the apex. His SomberCore engine roared with triumph, the gap visibly widening as he claimed P2, sliding effortlessly ahead.


    [2nd Position]


    "...?Excelente adelantamiento! Luca Rennick est¨¢ en P2!"


    **Take that same path** Hatcherk Motorsport''s engineer instructed Sean Aaronson as he approached the section where Luca had overtaken Derstappen, with Ansel closing in from behind.


    Aaronson wasted no time. He lined up his car with the inside lane and mirrored Luca''s aggressive trajectory through the tight bend, maintaining control on the treacherous sloped asphalt. His daring maneuver paid off too, allowing him to gain 2 seconds earlier than anticipated, closing the gap significantly.


    Not far behind, Ansel followed suit. He adopted Aaronson''s line with pinpoint accuracy, his calculated aggression restoring the gap between them. His guts itched for a chance to ascend further up the leaderboard, setting his sights firmly on the top.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 6 seconds away, host.]


    As Luca descended from Turn 12, Max''s holographic number 1 flickered into view above his Dallara. He was weaving through the slow, technical final three turns that fed into the home straight and the starting grid.


    Luca''s descent provided him with enhanced momentum, which he used effectively as he navigated the final turns alone. Behind him, Derstappen emerged from Turn 12, struggling to close the gap.


    "...at the lead, Max Addams powers down the straight, the crowd roaring in support as he begins Lap 5 of this F2 Spanish Grand Prix!"


    Though the race hadn''t even reached its quarter point, Trampos was already considering a pit stop for Luca.


    [12th Lap]


    **We''ll take that pit now, Luca. The crew''s ready**

 Chapter 119 Spanish Grand Prix 4: Battle On The Track

    [12th Lap]**We''ll take that pit now, Luca. The crew''s ready**


    Luca acknowledged the pit instruction with a curt, "Got it," and prepared for the turn into the pit lane as he exited Turn 16. He still held P2. He, Moritz, and Colt had already debated and decided he''d box, even though Derstappen was close behind.


    [Analyzing 3rd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [3rd Position is 4 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: That value will decrease, and not in your favor due to the pitstop.]


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    Falling back to third was worth the risk; carrying worn-out tires into the most tense laps of any race would only spell trouble.


    The roar of the crowd faded momentarily as he guided his Dallara onto the pit entry, navigating the speed limit zone.


    Trampos'' pit crew waited in formation, and as Luca came to a stop, they sprang into action as fast as they could, aided by Luca''s Pitstop Prodigy skill. However, it was never going to be fast enough to keep Derstappen from zooming past effortlessly with zero competition.


    [3rd Position]


    **You''re clear. 3.1 seconds**


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    Luca pressed hard on the throttle, his car leaping out of the pit box and into the pit lane. His fresh tires immediately began to heat up as he rejoined the race in P3, his system providing precise calculations of both opponents ahead and behind.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position...]


    [You are 5 seconds away, host.]


    Not bad, Luca thought, fully aware that Derstappen would pit within the next few laps. He would close the gap then. Patience was all he needed. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [4th Position closing in]


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [4th Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    Luca glanced at his side mirrors as he ascended the uphill of Turn 4, preparing to tackle the cliff-like approach of Turn 5. The climb offered him a reflective glimpse of Aaronson''s orange-and-black Dallara, still trailing at the base of Turn 4.


    "He''s coming for me again," Luca muttered, hoping his tires would heat up faster to handle the turns ahead optimally.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s heart skipped a beat at the sudden thunderous roar from the crowd. His mind raced, wondering what could have sparked such a reaction. Quickly, he activated the radio comm.


    **A driver just spun out of the track. His car is glued to the barriers. Really bad. Not a rival, not our problem. Safety car''s coming out.**


    Luca didn''t like the idea of a safety car now. Not at all.


    He had tires to warm up, and the safety car''s restrictions would ruin that. The reduced speed meant he couldn''t generate the necessary heat to maximize grip, leaving him vulnerable once the race resumed. Worse yet, Aaronson was closing in behind him. The safety car would erase the gap entirely, putting his rival right on his tail with tires already in optimal condition.


    He quickly outlined the issue to Mr. Moritz, who calmly replied that there was nothing Luca could do except manage the situation as best as possible.


    **Safety car deployed. Maintain position**


    "...this is surely going to compress the field, Jon. One driver out just at Lap 12. I have this clawing feeling that we''d have more counts..."


    "...it''s likely. Max Addams has P1 with the safety car, Derstappen behind, a cold Luca Rennick at P3 with Sean Aaronson at P4. And don''t forget, Steve, Aaronson might have a bone to pick with Luca Rennick. With cold tires, it might be a breeze for the Australian..."


    "...Safety Car en pista. Los pilotos reducen velocidad. Incidente en curva 9 est¨¢ siendo despejado...!"


    [Operational Status: 87%]


    After the safety car''s deployment and leave, the bunched up drivers began to tense as Max Addams led the way back toward the grid, yellow flags lowering in anticipation of the restart.


    Luca weaved his car from side to side, working to build heat into his tires. As Derstappen moved ahead, he was obliged to do the same to open gaps between all drivers.


    When Max Addams crossed the grid and blasted down the home straight toward Turn 1, Derstappen surged ahead a second later. Luca, in P3, pressed the throttle, but his cold tires forced caution through the opening sector.


    [13th Lap]


    [4th Position closing in]


    "...Max Addams extends his lead effortlessly, but at P4, Sean Aaronson smells blood from Luca Rennick. He''s on DRS, and Luca can''t deprive him of his slipstream. They are alongside each other now!"


    [Tires are at optimal heat now, host.]


    [Straightaway Chopping had failed due to cold tires.]


    [4th Position closing in]


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [4th Position is 0.3 sec away, host.]


    Aaronson grinned devilishly behind his helmet as he nosed alongside Luca heading into Turns 2 and 3, a short straight ahead leading toward the uphill and cliff curves. The Spanish Hatcherk Motorsport crowd erupted in cheers, urging Sean Aaronson to seize the overtake. Yet Luca remained resolute, keen to defend his position.


    [5th Position closing in]


    Not far behind them was Ansel, running unchallenged with no immediate rivals in his way. Miles, sitting in P6, lagged an entire sector back, still completing the 13th Lap along with the rest of the pack. Ansel, benefiting from the clear track, was steadily closing the gap to Luca and Aaronson, aiming to exploit their potential battle for an easy double overtake.


    Often glancing at his side mirror to study Aaronson''s front rear movements, Luca spotted Ansel not too far away. In fact, he was close enough for a good outpace albeit a perfect straightaway came. Realizing this, joy sparked in Luca''s heart as he figured Ansel would mount the pressure on Aaronson, putting the Hatcherk Motorsport driver between the two Trampos cars, forcing him into a defensive struggle.


    Luca clicked on his radio. "Could we do something about him?"


    It took Ansel a moment to respond. **Like what?** he asked grimly.


    Luca briefly considered suggesting a team boxing strategy to corner Aaronson but dismissed the idea. Sean Aaronson was too experienced for such a textbook maneuver; it wouldn''t work against him. Moreover, the idea of all three cars tightly packed as they navigated the uphill section, the curved cliff, and the narrow Turn 6 was far from appealing.


    Ansel, now edging even closer toward Aaronson and Luca, sucked in Luca''s silence over the radio. **Nothing to do, mate. We drive. Good luck**


    "...the pressure is on Luca Rennick as orange gets beside him, his fellow red not too far away. Ansel is closing the gap now, possibly lining up for a three-wide showdown!"


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [5th Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    The system updated Luca on Ansel''s delta the moment the radio went silent. He steeled himself, sharing P3 with Sean Aaronson as they barreled down the straight toward the hill, Ansel clearly benefiting from the dual slipstreams.


    Luca wished his tires could just clamp with Aaronson''s, forcing Aaronson to spin out while he still remained on track. But deliberately making someone else crash without being penalized was a very difficult thing to do. Moreover, Luca didn''t want to have such a desperate, loser mindset.


    He had no Skills to fend off someone beside him, and couldn''t chop Ansel behind because the steps to the Chopping skills involved a swift brake. And braking was something he wasn''t supposed to do at this moment.


    "...Ahora en la curva 5, Luca Rennick y Sean Aaronson!"


    [4th Position]


    **C''mon, Luca**


    At the bottleneck approaching the uphill section, Luca regained P3 due to the track''s structure, but it also allowed Ansel to slide into the gap between him and Aaronson.


    [3rd Position]


    [Spatial Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    **Keep good distance, Han. Don''t touch with Luca**


    **Noooo problem** Ansel replied.


    As they emerged from the sloped cliff, the trio reached Mandalora''s tightest curves. Luca clung to the inside line, Ansel occupied the middle, and Aaronson was forced wide on the outer lane. In the shuffle, Ansel officially claimed P3.


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 80%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 120 km/h]


    Luca made his turn, Ansel followed, Aaronson, cutting in before them both.


    [Trajectory Assessment: Inside lane disadvantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 3rd Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 20% throttle; maintain straight apex trajectory. Anticipate 3rd Position''s outside pressure.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 3rd and 4th Positions). Adjust for momentum loss at exit to regain position.]


    You have to be kidding me. Luca had no choice but to put his foot softly on the brakes.


    [5th Position]


    Aaronson''s rear wings fishtailed dangerously as he drifted through the curve, leaving thick smoke and black arcs on the asphalt. Reacting quickly, Luca tilted his wheel sharply and adjusted his trajectory as Ansel moved ahead. Seizing the opportunity, Luca went for the next inside lane while Ansel hugged the outer edge.


    [4th Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    Aaronson, recovering control of his SomberCore, surged forward to rejoin the battle, his acceleration drawing deafening cheers from the crowd as the three cars came within inches of each other.


    **You don''t have to be tough, Luca. Just hold P5 for a bit. It''s not that bad**


    Luca tried to process Ansel''s words as the two veterans edged past him when Turn 7''s track structure relegated him behind them.


    [5th Position]

 Chapter 120 Spanish Grand Prix 5: Defend And Concede

    [20th Lap]By the 20th lap, most drivers began considering pit stops as their soft tires were clearly worn out. Luca, having pitted early, was relieved¡ªhe now had the chance to close the gap that Ansel and Aaronson had created while they made their stops.


    Luca, however, had been lost in thought after losing P3 in rapid succession. And in motorsport, every second counted. With engines like the SomberCore, Ansel and Aaronson had disappeared into the horizon before Luca snapped back into focus.


    [Stamina +1]


    [Agility +1]


    Ansel had P3, and Sean Aaronson was basically still at P4 after all that chaos he managed to cause Luca. Aaronson himself was just glad he got Luca out of the lead and the podium, and Luca was directly behind him on the leaderboard but significantly far away on the track.


    **Aaronson is pitting. Move faster**


    This was how fast a SomberCore could go¡ª300 km/h.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 8 seconds away, host.]


    Sean Aaronson''s pit stop took 6 seconds¡ªa solid but average time for an F2 crew. By the time he entered the pit lane, it became clear that Luca might clash with him at the intersection. But Luca was having none of it.


    [Trajectory Assessment: Straight lane disadvantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 4th Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at full throttle; maintain straight apex trajectory. Anticipate 4th Position''s intersection.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 4th Position). Adjust for overreach at exit to regain position.]


    "...Luca Rennick dives in with full force, taking the inside as he cuts off Aaronson''s planned entry. A perfect blend of timing and skill! Sean Aaronson regains balance, but not where he wants to be...!"


    [4th Position]


    "...Luca Rennick se lo arrebata a Aaronson! ?Ahora en P4, Luca Rennick...!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    **Good job. He''s still at you, but good job**


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 7 seconds away, host.]


    It was hard to believe the kind of gap Ansel, Derstappen, and Max Addams had created over time. And this calculation was just Ansel''s delta. Luca wondered how far Max, the pack leader, really was. Almost two sectors ahead, P1 and P3¡ªMax Addams and Ansel Hahn¡ªfinally visited their pit boxes.


    Trampos'' pit crew wasn''t as efficient as Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr''s. Both had average pit times for an F2 team, with Max Addams spending just 5.8 seconds in the box, while Ansel lingered for 6.6 seconds.


    The two shot out of their respective pit lanes moments later, still holding P1 and P3, but the gap had significantly reduced. To emphasize how enormous the gap was, Max and Ansel were still confident and focused on themselves and Derstappen, who had tried to snatch P1 during Addams'' pit. After all, this was the first time in four GPs that Ansel Hahn might come head-to-head with Max Addams if he managed to outpace Derstappen. Trampos fans cheered wildly at the prospect.


    [25th Lap]


    Luca''s System gave a quick calculation that ignited his hunger as he steadily approached the front trio over the stunning circuit''s laps. The crowd''s chants echoed in his ears for minutes on end.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Good, Luca thought, his grip tightening on the wheel. He couldn''t believe how hungry he was, especially with his teammate''s hovering number glowing green instead of blue. Ansel''s rear wing was within reach, and Luca could already feel the reduced drag effect around his front wings as they maneuvered through Turns 4, 5, 6, and 7.


    Luca''s car kissed the curbs in perfect harmony as his heart raced, though not with panic, but with a steady, determined rhythm. His eyes locked on Ansel''s positioning, his focus unshaken, until he felt the smooth, exhilarating pull of his teammate''s slipstream.


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    "...Oh my! Luca Rennick almost bumped into Ansel Hahn over there! Good control! He''s right behind! A straight is far away, but Luca Rennick could make these bends count!"


    Ansel''s focus shifted immediately. Alerted by his engineer''s frantic call, he abandoned his pursuit of Derstappen''s P2 and began making precise defensive adjustments to his chassis as they barreled into Turn 7''s bottleneck.


    A small smile crept across Luca''s face. He knew Ansel better than anyone, and one thing he was certain of was Ansel''s weakness in defense¡ªa topic that had sparked debates among the crew and fans alike. Having spent so much time with him, Luca could confidently say that Ansel''s defensive skills were solid but far from exceptional.


    To dominate the leaderboard, score high points in every Grand Prix, and potentially secure the championship, defense was just as crucial as offense. While Ansel excelled in offense, often using it to great advantage, his reactionary, "question-and-answer" style of defense left gaps that opponents could exploit. This was why Mr. Grant often assigned Luca the role of fending off rivals whenever Ansel held the lead.


    As Ansel made a series of defensive step-sides, attempting to block any opening, Luca shook his head, his grip tightening on the wheel. It was time to make his move. He nosed his car in aggressively, testing the limits of the line Ansel was trying to hold.


    [3rd Position]


    [4th Position]


    Turn 8 loomed ahead for the two Trampos drivers just as Derstappen zoomed through the arc unchallenged, still pushing hard for P1 to earn crucial points for Squadra Corse Jnr.


    Luca feinted a move to the outside, forcing Ansel to adjust. The moment Ansel committed, Luca seized the opportunity, cutting sharply to the inside and diving into the gap.


    [3rd Position]


    "...Y Rennick lo intenta!"


    Ansel quickly swerved to cover the inside line, his tires screeching under the strain. Undeterred, Luca switched back to the outside as they barreled into Turn 9. Both narrowly escaped the dangers of Turn 8.


    [4th Position]


    Well. This is quite some good defense, though, Luca thought, not knowing Ansel was giving all his best, determined not to surrender P3 to Luca, his teammate.


    Luca''s outside trajectory gave him the perfect line into Turn 10, bringing him alongside Ansel.


    "... brilliant switchback by Luca Rennick! He''s got the momentum now, and Ansel Hahn is struggling to keep him behind!"


    [3rd Position]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    At the apex of Turn 10 that opened up to the long straightaway, Luca and Ansel found themselves locked in a tight corner that left no room for hesitation. They both carried enough momentum out of their turn, and their frames brushed against each other, the contact audible even over the roar of the engines.


    "...CONTACTO entre Rennick y Hahn!


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    The kiss of metal wasn''t harsh enough to send either off-track but it was enough to disrupt both drivers'' balance. The slight collision forced Luca to quickly counter-steer, his heart pounding as his tires screeched to regain grip. Ansel, on the other hand, veered slightly wide, his own line momentarily compromised.


    **Are you fucking kidding me, Luca?!** Ansel boomed over the radio.


    **That wasn''t supposed to happen, boys. You two messed up!** Mr. Moritz spat as Luca and Ansel came to a safe halt at the start of Straight 3 to regain composure.


    The cars were fine. They were fine. But the tension was palpable.


    **Well, that''s the fucking strategy you gave us nah, isn''t it?!** Ansel snapped, shooting a glare toward Luca''s Dallara, heat radiating from his rear wings as his fury boiled over.


    The crowd erupted in a frenzy as both Trampos-colored Dallaras stayed stationary for a moment, all cameras zeroing in on them.


    "... they definitely need to regroup after that close call at the end of Turn 10. That almost spelled disaster! The crowd roars, probably wishing it was worse!"


    [Operational Status: 60%]


    Luca remained silent even as Sean Aaronson effortlessly zoomed past both cars, claiming P3 without breaking a sweat nor bumping into anyone.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    **Focus, guys! Focus! Get back on the damn track! Don''t sit there another second!** Mr. Moritz practically shouted, his voice laced with frustration. He exchanged concerned glances with his fellow engineers.


    Mr. Grant swallowed the huge lump that had formed in his throat. He remained quiet even as the whole crew in the paddock grumbled and complained as soon as Luca and Ansel touched each other. Even Ms. Vallotton cussed silently and her toes twitched once the contact resonated through the track.


    **Whoever is behind gets to defend whoever is ahead! That is the strategy! When you''re together, you face off fairly! No touching!**


    Miles Bellingham zoomed past on the straight, snagging P4 with ease.


    "...Y Miles Bellingham est¨¢ ahora en P4!" Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Read exclusive content at empire


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    **Whatever** Ansel said. **I''ll box in a few laps. My back tires took some damage.** With that, he tilted his wheel and rejoined the race, his tires spinning as smoke kicked up behind him.


    Luca remained silent all through this while, taking in deep breaths of the stuffed confines of his helmet. From the corner of his eye, he watched Ansel slowly peel back into the asphalt and rejoined the race.


    [6th Position]


    [Strength +1]


    Once Ansel''s car got a 2¨Csecond lead, Luca quietly swerved back into the track.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 70 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 60% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Hiked


    -Distance covered: 145000m


    -Time: 40 min.]


    --


    --


    A/N: Merry Christmas to you all. Thank you for 1000 Privilege Chapter Unlocks and 100 Golden Tickets. There''s poor network and electricity in my hometown which has been limiting the number of chapters this festive season.

 Chapter 121 Spanish Grand Prix 6

    "...Jon, from past witnesses, I think we can say whenever teammates start clashing on track, the competition that season must be definitely off the charts.""...well, it''s a good thing it didn''t lead to any real danger for both drivers; if not, I think this Spanish Grand Prix would be the race that changed the team standings, and Velocit¨¤ would go right to the top."


    "...with a good finish, they might still, Jon. Max Addams dominates the lead, but Dani Walding still finds it hard to cover ground in P7; he''s a sector behind Rennick."


    [35th Lap]


    "...it''s still a bright, sunny day in Barcelona, and the Spanish Grand Prix is only just halfway. Still a lot of time to change the leaderboard, and if you haven''t heard, Luca Rennick and Ansel Hahn rubbed paint in the 25th Lap!"


    Your next journey awaits at empire


    [Tires are in bad condition, host. Fuel level at 45%. DRS is unavailable. Engine temperature slightly stable. Brake wear at 40%.]


    [Telemetry reports fair handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. Recommend maintaining current pace. However, a pit stop is strongly recommended immediately to refresh your tires and maintain performance for the remainder of the race.]


    Luca knew it was time to pit and haul his car back to good performance ten laps after his contact with Ansel. He ordered the System to give him accurate info on his distance from Dani Walding. Now at P6, moving further down the leaderboard was something Luca couldn''t afford. He hardly believed that he was the one who even started at pole.


    Now, there he was, at P6, halfway through Mandalora''s 72 laps, driving a 45% operating Dallara.


    [Analyzing 7th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [7th Position is 6 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant.]


    **The team is ready** Mr. Moritz said into the radio comm as the Trampos pit crew scrambled to their respective positions after resting in the paddock. Five laps ago, Ansel had visited the pit for the same reason Luca was about to.


    Luca''s car eased into the pitlane, and he arrived as quickly as he could without putting much strain on his tires again.


    "There''s still thirty more laps, Luca. Alright? You can still push up. It''s alright!" McCauley, who was standing beside his car, yelled loud enough for Luca to hear while he sat in the pit box for four solid seconds.


    [Pitstop Prodigy failed due to immensely damaged car which current Pitstop Prodigy points can''t upend.]


    [System has optimized host and Dallara (F2 04) to take full pit time.]


    Five and a half seconds. Not too bad, Luca mused as his car landed from the wrench.


    He gave McCauley a curt nod before slamming the accelerator. He had a second to leave the pit as Dani Walding was approaching the intersection.


    The Trampos crowd behind the team garage cheered as Luca resumed his race just in time, preventing Dani Walding from overtaking. The chassis responded well to his actions, but the tires still needed some time to reach optimal performance.


    The 42nd Lap approached, marking one hour of the Spanish Grand Prix. Just as Luca had predicted, the fan overrun at the beginning of the race was not the last. Mr. Moritz reported attempts to storm the track near Turns 4 and 5, but the individuals were intercepted before they could disrupt the race¡ªor harm themselves¡ªas Max Addams zoomed past that lane moments later.


    Luca focused intently on his driving through the laps, doing his best to maintain stability and consistency. He adhered to the System''s occasional calculations and notifications, knowing every decision counted in his battle to climb back up the leaderboard.


    [Endurance +1]


    [Agility +1]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 290 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 107 bpm


    -Operational Status: 85% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 270000m


    -Time: 1hr 7 min.]


    [Analyzing 7th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [7th Position is 3 sec away, host.] sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant.]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 3 seconds away, host.]


    [45th Lap]


    Mr. Colt focused on the readings displayed on the computer screens. Data streamed across the array of monitors, but his attention was glued to Luca''s telemetry. The system provided him with a second-by-second account of Luca''s performance, a detailed log of his actions on the track. Engineers surrounded him, analyzing various aspects of the race, but it was Mr. Colt who first noticed the deviation in Luca''s usual pattern.


    "What''s he doing?" he muttered, leaning closer and adjusting his glasses. The split times and sector analyses seemed fine for any F2 driver, but Mr. Colt knew this wasn''t how Luca normally operated. Despite working with him for only two months, he had memorized Luca''s passive aggressive driving style. This wasn''t the usual telemetry he displayed.


    Luca was generally an active and dynamic driver¡ªalways chasing an opportunity for a daring overtake, a sharp corner cut, or an aggressive straight-line push. Mr. Colt had studied Luca''s telemetry from Bergwaldring to Stadhaven. The conservativeness he now saw was entirely out of character.


    In fact, the pace Luca had demonstrated in practice and the qualifying session suggested he could challenge for the lead. But here he was, trailing behind Ansel, his teammate, and showing no signs of mounting a serious challenge.


    "Why''s he holding back?" Mr. Colt asked rhetorically, though Moritz heard it and turned his head.


    "Luca, you mean?" Moritz asked.


    Mr. Colt nodded slowly, muttering something that the hum of activity in the telemetry room drowned out. He then pointed at the data that told the clear story. Luca wasn''t pushing himself in the critical corners, nor was he taking advantage of the straights to close the gap. Opportunities to overtake had presented themselves on more than one occasion¡ªcorners where his sharper braking or a more aggressive entry line could have forced Ansel to defend or falter. Yet, Luca remained patient, too patient, as though content to stay in P6.


    "His car''s fine. His tires are fine. Nothing for him to protect," an engineer commented dismissively, exhaling sharply.


    Moritz glanced sharply at his own station where the race monitors displayed the live feed of the race. Ansel''s bright red-and-black Dallara dominated screen 5 as it rounded Turn 8 toward Miles, Luca''s car following close behind but never threatening to strike.


    Moritz''s jaw tightened as he shook his head. He already knew what was holding Luca back, and he didn''t like it. Mr. Colt glanced at him, reading his expression. Mr. Colt, who was just realizing, asked, "Must be because of Ansel, right?"


    Moritz nodded, motioning for a crew member to inform Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton of the situation. "Yeah," he muttered, reaching for the radio to speak to the drivers. "He doesn''t want another incident."


    Mr. Colt returned his gaze to the screens as the announcement rang out for the start of the 49th Lap.


    Luca was startled when the radio crackled to life, Moritz''s sharp, synthetic voice cutting through the ambient noise of the race. "Any problem?" Luca asked.


    **Your positions are. You''re aware you are at P6, Han''s at P5. We don''t want to finish there, DO WE?**


    "Nope. Not at all."


    **Then move your goddamn Dallara, Luca.**


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    Luca had no idea when he had closed the gap to Ansel¡ªso close that he was within DRS range, though he hadn''t activated it for the past two straights.


    In the viewing post, Mr. Grant was livid upon receiving this information. He had been fuming over why none of his drivers were in the lead and stormed into the room, demanding the radio from Mr. Moritz.


    Luca''s stomach tightened when Mr. Grant''s stern voice suddenly boomed over the transmitter. It was on the two-way channel, meaning both Ansel and Luca could hear him.


    Ansel glanced at his side mirror, spotting Luca''s car dangerously close as they approached the home straight, ready to begin the 50th lap while Addams and the rest had already started it.


    **An estimated 20 laps left, and none of us are in the top 3. Enough of this. Ansel, if Luca doesn''t threaten you in the next lap, you''re letting him through. And Luca, if you don''t move your car, you''ll be punished after this race. No arguments. Align your chassis**


    The line went dead.


    Luca exhaled slowly, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. His pulse quickened as he saw Ansel shifting to a defensive line. What could he do now?


    He shook his head and let out the breath, knowing there was only one answer. As soon as they emerged onto the straightaway, Luca obeyed his Team Principal.


    [DRS Engaged]


    "...and finally, Luca Rennick attempts! Rear wing wide open, long straight down. Ansel Hahn shifts to the center to defend, but it''s not easy!"


    [50th Lap]


    "...Este Gran Premio de Espa?a de F¨®rmula 2 est¨¢ ahora en la vuelta 50!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    [Overtaking +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]


    "...Luca Rennick takes the position! Absolutely stunning racing from Rennick. That was precision, patience, and power all rolled into one. You can feel the tension in the air as Trampos Racing makes their move. Luca is now unleashed! They go into Turn 1!"


    "...Luca Rennick ahora est¨¢ en P5!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s heart raced but he managed to calm himself as he began Mandalora again for the 50th lap. Moritz congratulated him and reminded him this was Formula racing.


    Ansel, now in P6, shook his head in frustration. He had been powerless against Luca''s perfectly timed DRS attack. Behind him¡ªDani Walding and they were just beginning the 50th lap.


    "...The question now¡ªdoes he have the pace to close the gap to Squadra''s Miles Bellingham ahead? This race is far from over!"


    Luca ordered his system to calculate how far Miles was ahead, his mind also wandering to the likely insurmountable gap between him and the race leader, Max Addams.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 4 seconds away, host.]


    If this was his delta to Miles Bellingham, then Max Addams must be at least three times farther. Luca found it hard to believe he had fallen this far down the leaderboard. This wasn''t how he had envisioned his championship race unfolding. He sighed, keeping his focus steady as he entered the 55th lap, the crowd cheering softly as he held Ansel back in P6.


    Suddenly, the soft cheer of the Mandalora crowd exploded into an ear-splitting roar. The wave of sound rippled across the grandstands, flags flailing frantically¡ªmainly those of Squadra Corse Jnr and Trampos. The announcer shouted fervently in a language Luca couldn''t understand, heightening the intensity.


    Something monumental had just happened, but Luca couldn''t tell what.


    He spared a quick glance toward the stands. This is unreal, he thought.


    Luca''s heart skipped a beat when he heard the thunderous crunch of metal. He couldn''t grasp why the crunch came repeatedly and rhythmic like whoever''s car that had crashed kept colliding with the asphalt.


    **Danger! Incoming debris, Luca! Addams'' car is rolling down the racing line!**


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    The crowd''s unified roar reached deafening levels.


    Rolling down?


    The screeching of Miles'' tires brought Luca back to reality, his heart pounding in his chest. He glanced up just in time to see Miles swerving desperately to avoid Max Addams'' car, which was tumbling end over end down the track like a twisted wreck. The sound of crunching metal and the sight of sparks showering into the air made his stomach turn. Miles'' swift maneuver had saved him from being caught up in the chaos, but it also made the danger starkly real¡ªthe wreckage was heading straight for Luca now.


    "Oh my fucking¡ª!"


    **SWERVE LEFT!!**


    Luca''s hands trembled as he gripped the wheel tighter, relying on his limited 5-point Spatial Awareness to gauge the trajectory of the incoming wreckage. But it was too fast. He caught a horrifying glimpse of Max Addams in the shattered cockpit, crouched as though bracing for the inevitable.


    "...Esto es malo!"


    Before both machines could collide, Max Addams'' blue-and-black wrecked Dallara, bounced once more on the asphalt and sailed over Luca in a blur of sparks and twisted metal, barely missing Luca''s car overhead by mere inches.


    Thud!


    Max''s car landed abruptly behind Luca, whose tires wobbled for control after that close contact. Some of the crowd gasped in horror, some cheered as debris scattered around the area, Max''s pristine Dallara, now a crumpled heap of metal, with him still in it.


    Ansel had to stop his car instantly, slowing down to a halt right before the wreckage as Max Addams struggled to exit the cockpit. No doubt, the safety car was announced immediately, and the red flags were instantly waved. This was the worst crash so far this season, and the victim¡ªMax Addams?!

 Chapter 122 Spanish Grand Prix 7: Drastic Change Of Events

    A/N: An unparaphrased (edited) chapter. Please, don''t mind any grammatical error."...After 55 tough laps, disaster has struck! The reigning Formula 2 champion, Max Addams, has been involved in a massive crash! What an unbelievable sequence of events¡ªwe saw his car somersaulting dangerously down the track, narrowly missing multiple drivers...!"


    "...Max Addams, who was leading the race, is now out after a huge contact with Albert Derstappen! You can see his car, a crumpled wreckage, lying just behind Luca Rennick in P5. This will shake up the championship standings and the race itself! Let''s hope Max is okay, the red flags are out¡ªthis is not how anyone wants to see a race unfold..."


    Bueseno Velocit¨¤ F1 team, who were present, couldn''t help but frown out the situation, as Max was attended to¡ªdragged out of his cockpit and helped to walk by his shoulders.


    "...El safety car est¨¢ en marcha."


    [Breathing: Extremely Hiked]


    **You know what to do. Keep tires warm. This might work to our advantage because everyone would file behind the safety car**


    Luca tried to take in deep breaths, but the unmistakable well-known chant for when a rival team''s driver crashed, rippled across the grandstands, yelled and sang by Trampos, Squadra Corse Jnr and Hatcherk Motorsport fans toward Bueseno Velocit¨¤. The chants were terrifying as they were all thrilled to see Max Addams of all F2 drivers, pulled out of Mandalora''s track.


    Max Addams needed good first aid, his head must be hurting internally after all that tumbling, his limbs as well. Soft cheers from Bueseno supporters creeped in as Max was taken away, but that general chant quickly drowned it out within seconds.


    **Safety car will take a very long while. Damn, man really disassembled his car**


    Luca nodded as he kept the required distant behind Miles Bellingham, his mind racing. He wondered what move and in what situation Max and Derstappen must have taken, resulting into Max''s dangerous somersaults that almost ran into him. Luca couldn''t believe his luck.


    While he kept warming his tires, his eyes searched through the circuit for any huge display for what had happened. Fortunately, Mandalora was massive and had many big screens. One in particular, was just replaying the whole thing.


    The cause of the crash unfolded before the leading drivers could complete the uphill Turn 4. Max Addams and Albert Derstappen were locked in a fierce battle for the lead as Max tried defending from Derst''s relentless pursuit. Albert, carrying more momentum from a wider entry, saw an opportunity and attempted to squeeze through the narrowing gap on the outside, but the gap was too slim.


    Max''s rear-right tire clipped Albert''s front-left as the two cars made contact. The violent collision destabilized Max''s car, causing it to lose grip instantly. The rear swung around as if slapped by an invisible hand, sending the car careening sideways and down Turn 4 at full speed.


    Damn, lucky you, Luca muttered, noting Derstappen''s car managed to limp away with only a damaged front wing. After this GP, Luca was certain Derstappen would get a lot of credit and praise for bringing down Max Addams to carbon fiber debris.


    **Safety car leaves in thirty seconds**


    Luca returned his focus to the track as the safety car''s lights flashed brightly ahead, the red flags slowly being lowered after minutes of constant waving.


    Alright, Luca. You''re in P4, now, not P5. You just have three rivals ahead. And hell, one is completely out of this race!


    "...after that wracking crash, the safety car is leaving the track now, and heading back to the pit lane. P1 belongs to Squadra''s Albert Derstappen, his teammate, Miles Bellingham right in P3 with Sean Aaronson in between them. This restart will be crucial as Derstappen leads the pack to the grid. We''ve got 15 laps to go here at Mandalora, and the intensity is about to ramp up again!"


    All drivers began opening gaps amongst themselves as they barreled safely toward the grid to resume the race. Luca was partially glad that a huge threat like Max Addams was out, meaning Trampos would maintain their top of the standings after this Spanish Grand Prix. Now, only if he could just capitalize on this and grab huge points to foster his own pursuit for the drivers'' championship.


    Luca sharpened his mind, sat up straight in his cramped cockpit as the crowd cheered them on toward the grid.


    "...Y la carrera se ha reanudado! Estamos en la vuelta 56 de este Gran Premio de Espa?a de F2!"


    [4th Position]


    It''s time!


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.] Your journey continues with empire


    "...and Luca Rennick hesitates not a second as he surged forward in pursuit of Bellingham. He might be aiming to slot in to the side before they could make Turn 1!"


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    Miles couldn''t believe Luca was going to give him issues again. He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, determined not to lose the position. As soon as Luca slotted his front wings to his peripheral vision, Miles immediately defended, moving just enough to force Luca into a less favorable line.


    Luca didn''t flinch as he was ready to give all he had. He followed closely through all early turns and rounded the cliff Turn 5 with Miles, keeping his car planted and steady despite the turbulent air at that area. The crowd cheered as Aaronson and Derstappen came wheel to wheel to battle for P1.


    Once the leaders emerged from Turn 7, all four Dallaras shot down the short straight toward the sharp Turn 8, Luca staying glued to Miles'' rear wing, and Ansel just entering Turn 7 at the moment.


    [Track Span Analysis: 3.0 meters wide (outside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 2.0 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 2.15 meters (2 meters on the left side. 0.15 metres on the right)]


    Luca adjusted his brake bias. He was now used to this Turn 8, and he wouldn''t let it snatch his traction like last time. Moreover, he hoped he could drift well enough to nose ahead of Miles. He needed to be in P3 at least before the 60th Lap.


    Simultaneously, he and Miles softly tilted their wheels, letting their front soft tires wear enough to give good direction toward Turn 9 as they drifted into the bottleneck of Turn 8, their tires threatening to lose grip.


    [Calculating host drift exit...]


    [.... successfully calculated]


    The closeness of both cars drew roars from the crowd, who were enthralled by the display. This wasn''t the first and won''t be the last time Luca Rennick and Miles Bellingham would battle head to head. This very moment seemed both cars might clash just like in Hungary, but, Miles managed to leave the bottleneck a fraction of a second earlier than Luca, both maintaining their positions into the slower hairpins.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    Track structure played a huge role in a racing, and it was a feature no one could change but adapt. Luca steadily glided his car through all last turns, the system alerting him once Ansel''s car was close enough to be a threat.


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [5th Position is 4 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant.]


    [56th Lap]


    [57th Lap]


    [58th Lap]


    "...and Luca Rennick just can''t seem to find a way past Miles Bellingham! Lap after lap, Miles has been putting on a defensive masterclass, shutting down every opportunity Luca tries to create."


    "...Absolutely, Steve. Miles is placing his car perfectly in all the critical zones¡ªinside, outside, you name it. He''s making that car wider than ever..!"


    **Keep to him. He won''t last long** Mr. Moritz advised.


    Luca grew impatient. First, because he didn''t want to finish 4th. Second, because Ansel was effortlessly gaining asphalt with his slipstream, and if this his charade with Miles continued, he would have to face Ansel... again. Luca didn''t want that.


    As soon as the 59th Lap elapsed, Luca fired up his throttle. Miles glanced at his mirrors again, now genuinely worried. Once the first straight of the 60th Lap opened, he was certain Luca would engage DRS. However, he could to, considering he was in the right spot against Aaronson, who was¡ªin return¡ªdisturbing his teammate, Derstappen.


    "...Y estamos en la vuelta 60 del Gran Premio de Espa?a de F¨®rmula 2!"


    **Bellingham''s on DRS**


    "I can see that."


    [DRS Engaged]


    [Drag Reduced]


    Ansel engaged his DRS as well, all three cars between P3 and P5, hurtling down with insane speed into Turn 1.


    [5th Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    [You are 1 seconds away from 3rd Position.] sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [DRS disengaged]


    "...three cars battling it out just for third place. Bellingham is holding on with everything he''s got! Using every inch of the track to defend, but Rennick is relentless, pushing him to the limit. And Hahn¡ªHahn is closing in fast, using the slipstream to perfection. This is absolutely breathtaking!"


    [Trajectory Assessment: Middle lane disadvantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 5th Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 20% throttle; maintain curved trajectory. Anticipate 5th Position''s outside pressure and 3rd Position''s inside cut.]


    [Risk Factor: Very High (collision potential with 3rd and 5th Positions). Adjust for momentum loss at exit to regain position.]


    All his System conveyed was a clear warning that Turn 1 would lead to disaster if anyone miscalculated their move. And considering he was sandwiched between two of the most badass F2 drivers on the grid, the odds weren''t in his favor. Luca quickly recognized the risks. If he pushed further, the damage to his car¡ªand his race¡ªcould be catastrophic.


    This was the second time in this race he was giving up his position for him and his car''s safety, and Luca didn''t like it one bit.


    Miles'' car completed the inside line flawlessly, while Ansel capitalized on his own momentum, swooping through the outside and crossing paths in front of Luca. The precision was so razor-thin that Ansel''s rear wing slammed into Luca''s front wing.


    The contact sent a nerve-rattling vibration through Luca''s chassis, jolting his steering wheel and his gloved hands. He gritted his teeth as his car momentarily lost balance. Ahead, Ansel''s car bounced slightly, threatening to spin out, but it regained traction just in time to lead Luca into Turn 2.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    **Sorry** that''s all he said.


    [5th Position]


    Mr. Mallow slapped his forehead in frustration once that happened, the crowd cheering and the commentary exclaiming Luca and Ansel made contact once again in this F2 Spanish GP. He glanced at Mr. Fisher, pointing at the far track. "What the heck are your boys doing today?! My money''s on the freaking line!" he bawled.


    Mr. Fisher shook his head. He was very disappointed with the results of the Spanish Grand Prix so far. And with the F1 teams and managers present there in Mandalora, he had hoped to show off his drivers'' exceptional skills, but all he had to boast about now were close calls, squandered opportunities, and two contacts.


    Mr. Fisher sighed, his eyes darting to Squadra Corse Jnr crew as they were on their feet to cheer Albert Derstappen to his first GP win this season. Hatcherk Motorsport supporters clinged to the hope of a last minute overtake from their very best Sean Aaronson.


    Mr. Fisher returned his focus to the race, though he watched absentmindedly his drivers holding P4 and P5 into the 65th Lap. But then, his eyes widened when he witnessed that moment everyone does when a contact was about to occur.


    Albert Derstappen and Sean Aaronson''s battle was getting a little too tense and fierce, most especially from Aaronson. He was determined to snatch victory, and tucked into Derstappen''s side on the straight. Albert, unwilling to concede, held his ground on the inside, and both cars slammed their side frames.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Even Mr. Fisher was stunned, he jumped to his feet. Shards of glass exploded outward as Derstappen''s left mirror hung by a thread, barely clinging to his car, and Aaronson''s right mirror had completely disintegrated.


    "...LOOK AT THAT AGGRESSION!"


    Luca''s ears perked up as the shatter of glass resonated through Mandalora, the roar of the crowd swelling to a deafening crescendo. He instinctively knew something significant had unfolded ahead.


    Both Derstappen and Aaronson jerked their steering wheels to regain control, their cars wobbling precariously before snapping back into balance. However, that balance didn''t last because both drivers soon realized that their side mirrors had inflicted more damage than either had anticipated, puncturing their tires and mangling the delicate aerodynamics of their wings. Sparks danced erratically as their crippled Dallaras struggled to maintain speed and control.


    **Dangerous glass on track!** Mr. Moritz warned Luca and Ansel as quickly as he could.


    Miles received the warning from his own team a fraction too late. His car roared into the danger zone, the tires crunching over the treacherous mosaic of glass. A grim vibration rippled through his chassis as shards embedded themselves into his tires. Ansel, close behind, had no choice but to follow suit, wincing as his own car suffered similar damage.


    But Luca, armed with his Spatial Awareness and Mr. Moritz''s timely guidance, was already adapting. He shifted his trajectory, veering sharply to the inside line. The maneuver was smooth as his car threaded through the safer section.


    **Clean! But Han''s hurt**


    "Really?!" Luca said as he surged ahead, his gaze settling on Ansel''s sparking rear.


    "...Luca Rennick managed to evade the worst of it, and other drivers are following his path! And he''s surely picking up the pace toward the leading pack¡ªtoward their leaking Dallaras!"


    [Spatial Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    Luca''s eyes moved around the circuit as he closed down on Ansel. No yellow flags?! Not yet?! He thought with excited panic as he asked Mr. Moritz.


    **Until all drivers pass that section. The flags would be raised**


    A happy smile spread on Luca''s face. This was it¡ªhis chance to capitalize on the turmoil and reclaim his position. The chance to claim P1!


    Effortlessly, Luca glided past Ansel, who was struggling with his downforce.


    [4th Position]


    "...Ahora en P4, Luca Rennick!"


    "OOUUUUHH!"


    Effortlessly, Luca slotted inside Turn 9, outpacing Miles, who had suffered the most from the glass incident.


    "...Ahora en P3, Luca Rennick!"


    "OOUUUUHH!"


    Mr. Grant slowly rose from his seat in the viewing post, his eyes wide with disbelief and pride. Even Mr. Mallow gripped his betslip tighter when he had planned on throwing it away.


    Sean Aaronson''s orange-and-black Dallara came into view without delay, his car wobbling and threatening to take itself out of the track. Luca took the outside lane, to catch a glimpse of Aaronson''s eyes through his visors. He smiled as he cut through, claiming P2¡ªeffortlessly, of course.


    "...Ahora en P2, Luca Rennick!"


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    Squadra Corse supporters had their hands on their heads as Luca went for Albert Derstappen, who had a fairly effective chassis. However, Luca''s Dallara was working pretty well, and it was simply no match for him. Once he outpaced Derstappen with this eerie silence through Mandalora, a grumble and outrage broke through the grandstands.


    "...AHORA EN P1, Luca Rennick!"


    "...Todos los pilotos han pasado por el lugar del incidente, las banderas amarillas ahora ondean.."


    As soon as the announcement came in the local language for the yellow flags, all marshals sprang into action and the race was officially paused.


    [1st Position]


    **Wonderful play! Wonderful play! Luca! KUDOS!**


    "...from P5 to P1, Luca Rennick takes full advantage of the calamity that befell his rivals! The leaderboard has changed drastically, and he might head on to win his THIRD consecutive Grand Prix!!"


    "Ha! Ha! Fucking looooooooosers!" Luca screamed in his padded helmet as he was overwhelmed with joy. P1 never felt any better!


    Albert Derstappen and Aaronson could only cuss as Luca had passed them. All their efforts in vain after reckless, tense driving back then. Now, the race was paused as the track marshals cleared the debris as quickly as they could.


    Once the race resumed, no doubt, Luca was expecting a pit from his rivals, which would create a gap between him and them. Wonderful! he thought.


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used.]


    "Hahahaha! LET''S GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


    [68th Lap]


    Then came the inevitable as Derstappen, Aaronson, Miles and Ansel had to visit their respective pits. Luca, on the other hand, had completed his Sync Bar.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    "Yes, of course!!!"


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 20 ???? 50


    Stamina: 26 ???? 50


    Endurance: 22 ???? 50


    Agility: 22 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 18 ???? 50 ]


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping/Spatial Awareness/ Night Mastery/ Grid Launch/ Slipstream Mastery]


    "Choose any goddamn skill, I don''t care!!!!" Luca yelled with joy! "Yes!!!!"


    [System selecting random skills for Sync Buff....]


    [...Skills selected.]


    [Successfully Selected!]


    [Pitstop Prodigy: 8 ???? 50


    Straightaway Chopping: 5 ???? 50


    Spatial Awareness: 6 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 4 min. 59 sec left for Sync Buff]


    Luca couldn''t even feel the effect of the Sync Buff as adrenaline was already surging through him. He slammed on his throttle, screaming ontop of his lungs in his stuffed helmet as he began hurtling through Mandalora.


    [70th Lap]


    "...and no way Albert Derstappen can keep up with that! No way Sean Aaronson can compete with that! What a surprisingly turn of events at the closing laps of this F2 Spanish Grand Prix! Luca Rennick has P1, and he might just win his third consecutive Formula 2 Grand Prix!"


    **You are the man, Luca. Look at you go!**


    "...¨²ltima vuelta! Vamos, vamos, Luca! Luca, Luca, Luca! Luca es el ganador. Luca Rennick cruza la meta primero!"

 Chapter 123 Unlocking Potential

    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.Position | Team | Points


    -----------------------------------------------------


    1. | Max Addams | 127


    2. | Luca Rennick | 126


    3. | Ansel Hahn | 115


    4. | Sean Aaronson | 96


    5. | Miles Bellingham | 94


    The points gap between Luca Rennick and Max Addams had narrowed drastically, now leaving them separated by a mere point. Many in the paddock were already calling it a tie at the top of the table. The Spanish Grand Prix had propelled Luca from third in the standings, pushing Ansel Hahn down and placing him in direct contention for the championship with Max. This was exactly the position Luca had been aiming for, but with the next few races crucial, the upcoming Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was set to play a pivotal role in determining the outcome of the drivers'' championship.


    As Luca addressed the press, still flushed with adrenaline and sweat from his victory celebrations, he couldn''t help but reflect on the monumental task ahead. He openly declared his ambition to overtake Max in Riyadh, knowing the capital of Saudi Arabia would set the stage for one of the most critical showdowns of the season. Though Luca was unaware of the exact team standings, an interviewer eagerly informed him that Trampos Racing had now comfortably surpassed Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr, thanks to his astonishing win that evening. This newfound advantage would give Trampos a solid cushion going into the next round.


    But the questions soon shifted to the elephant in the room¡ªan issue Luca had anticipated. The press demanded answers about the miscommunications between him and his teammate, Ansel, during the Spanish Grand Prix. The two had clashed repeatedly over the long haul of 72 laps, their Dallaras crossing paths and even making contact twice. Journalists were quick to label these moments as decisive factors that shaped the outcome of the race. One interviewer pointed out that had Ansel not aggressively overtaken Luca on Lap 65, the latter would have been the one to pit late in the race due to encountering the broken glass first. In that scenario, Ansel might have been the emerged victor today¡ªmaybe.


    Luca, in his response, remembered how Mr. Grant often advised never to sabotage or speak ill of any team member, whether his teammate or even a mere tire-changer in the pitcrew. So, Luca carefully calibrated his words as he described Ansel''s actions as a reflection of his racing instincts, noting that Ansel''s hunger for a better position in the standings was understandable. Luca admitted he shared the same drive as well, and it was this clash of ambition that nearly jeopardized the team''s points haul. Ultimately, however, the luck of motorsport favored Luca in this race, and he emerged triumphant.


    The press pushed further, shifting their focus from celebratory questions to analytical ones, delving into the dynamics within Trampos Racing. They wanted to know how Luca and the team planned to address this evident friction between him and Ansel, particularly after such a high-stakes race. The incidents between the two drivers had become a defining feature of the Spanish Grand Prix, and the media was eager to uncover what these clashes might mean for the team''s future.


    Luca remained composed and calmly reminded them that his role was to drive, not to handle changes or team organization. His job was to adapt and perform under the circumstances presented to him. However, deep down, he knew he needed to have a conversation with Ansel after today. Ansel had finished in P6, a disappointing result due to the chaos caused by broken glass on the track. It was unbelievable how Oliver Kristensen seized the opportunity like Luca did, surging from P6 to overtake Ansel just seconds before the yellow flags were raised. Dani Walding had also attempted to capitalize but wasn''t quick enough to make it happen.


    With everything that had transpired, Luca could only imagine how furious Ansel must be.


    He hadn''t even seen his teammate yet, caught up in his victory celebrations. The moment he crossed the final grid, Luca had leapt from his car and ran straight into the arms of McCauley and the rest of the crew, soaking in the moment of triumph.


    After dodging the more heated questions and steering the narrative away from controversy, the press turned their attention to Mr. Grant, who was just approaching. He wore a wide smile¡ªa rare expression for the team principal. As Luca stepped aside to let him take the spotlight, Mr. Grant gave Luca a brief hug and a couple of congratulatory pats on the back.


    Luca smiled as he exited the tunnel, the thunderous chants of Trampos fans reverberating like heavy rainfall around him. Weaving his way through the celebrations, he made his way back to the Trampos garage, which was still alive with energy and jubilation.


    "Vamos!" Luca yelled, running down the pitlane.


    "...posiciones finales de este Gran Premio de Espa?a de F¨®rmula 2!"


    "...P5, Oliver Kristensen!"


    "...P4, Miles Bellingham!"


    "...P3, Sean Aaronson!"


    "...P2, Albert Derstappen!"


    "...y primero, Luca Rennick!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    [Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!] Your next read is at empire


    [You have been rewarded with (EXP)!


    -Strength +2


    -Stamina +2


    -Endurance +2


    -Agility +2


    -Intelligence +2


    -Pitstop Prodigy +3


    -Corner Chopping +3


    -Straightaway Chopping +3 ]


    Nice!


    [Ding!]


    [Congratulations! You are now a rated A-ranked Formula driver]


    [Ding!]


    [All Attributes have been leveled up to 20!]


    [Generating host attributes...]


    [... Generation Completed]


    [Strength: 22


    Stamina: 28


    Endurance: 24


    Agility: 24


    Intelligence: 21]


    [Ding!]


    [Host has met requirements to unlock a new skill!]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a Skill:


    -Side-by-Side King: 2 ]


    Luca raised a brow, intrigued as the notification lingered. Hmm, I think I might know what this could help me with. Keep going.


    [Side-by-Side King is a skill that enhances your ability to excel in wheel-to-wheel racing, maintaining control and speed during close-quarters battles. It increases your stability and precision by 10¨C50%, allowing you to hold your line confidently while minimizing the risk of contact.]


    [Additionally, this skill improves your defensive and offensive capabilities during side-by-side racing by 5¨C15%, enabling you to force opponents into less optimal racing lines or pressure them into errors. It also reduces tire wear and overheating during prolonged duels by 5¨C15%, ensuring sustained performance throughout the battle.]


    This is very good, actually. Now, I''d be able to level up my ability of having good control when racing side-by-side with a rival, Luca thought, remembering a lot of predicaments he found himself in during the race whenever he was side-by-side with another driver.


    "Any special steps on how to execute it?" Luca asked.


    [Retrieving Data on Side-by-side King...]


    [...Data Retrieved]


    [Execution of Side-by-side King:


    ¨CMaintain smooth and controlled steering to hold your line alongside a rival.


    ¨CAdjust throttle and brake inputs carefully to ensure stability through corners. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¨CUse car positioning strategically to block your opponent''s path and force them into less favorable lines.


    ¨CDefend by controlling the racing line while avoiding oversteer to maintain momentum.


    ¨CAttack by anticipating your rival''s movements and timing advances to secure better corner exits.


    ¨CManage tire wear and overheating during prolonged battles to sustain performance ]


    "...ladies and gentlemen, please settle down whilst the podium celebration begins. F2 Federation President Mr. Olivier Grosjean would be presenting the trophy..."

 Chapter 124 Quiet Distance

    The Trampos crew made their way back to their designated residence in the bustling metropolis of Barcelona. It was no easy task, as the streets and roads leading from Circuito del Barca¨CRaval were overwhelmed by throngs of people, including the two hundred thousand fans who had filled the grandstands and many more who hadn''t managed to secure a spot inside the circuit.Every available road was gridlocked, and the cacophony of engines, cheering fans, and excitable chatter filled the night air. The F2 teams struggled to navigate through the chaos, and the journey back to their bases stretched on interminably. What should have been a straightforward drive took four times longer, with the golden hues of dusk giving way to the inky blackness of night by the time traffic began to ease.


    Even then, the team''s convoy crawled at a snail''s pace, hindered by throngs of pedestrians weaving through the vehicles. Luca, frustrated by the slow progress, found it difficult to access the internet due to poor connectivity. He instead engaged enthusiastically in a lively conversation with McCauley, Dennis, and a few others, rehashing the highs and lows of the race earlier that day.


    Within the hour, Mr. Robert, the team''s lead cargo manager, radioed in with a development. One of their cargo trucks had grazed a lamppost in the chaos and needed to pull over to assess the damage. He suggested halting the convoy briefly, but Mr. Grant decided to press on, reasoning that waiting would only delay them further. The leading vehicles and buses resumed their slow progress through the congested streets, leaving the cargo trucks to catch up later.


    Eventually, the team neared their base, but their relief was short-lived. Just as Mr. Grant had anticipated, their progress was interrupted again¡ªthis time by a group of overzealous Trampos fans who had somehow discovered their route. Most of these fans had traveled from Germany, much like the team itself, with only a few hailing from the local area. Security had to be called in to disperse the small but enthusiastic crowd. Before they left, however, a few lucky fans managed to snap selfies with members of the team, especially with their winning driver, Luca.


    Once the way was clear, the convoy resumed its approach to the facility, finally arriving at 7 p.m.


    Finally, two bars, Luca thought as he glanced at the top of his phone screen while disembarking from the bus. He fell in line with the rest of the team, his eyes fixated on the updated standings after this eighth round. As they filed into the facility, Luca scrolled through the championship rankings.


    He tried to remember the previous figures and calculate it himself, but he just ended up jumbling the numbers.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -----------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 241


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 187


    3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 134


    4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 109


    5. | Retona Racing | 57


    A 54-point lead. Luca nodded to himself as he processed the numbers. That margin felt reassuring. Even with the fast-approaching Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, there was no realistic way they could lose the lead after the ninth round. It simply wasn''t mathematically possible for any team to earn more than 50 points in a single race. The maximum achievable was 45 points, and that required flawless execution¡ªa feat no team had managed this season.


    No team, that is, except Trampos Racing, during their extraordinary performance on that unforgettable night in Stellar back in April.


    Luca slipped his phone into his pocket as the automatic glass doors slid open, revealing the main lounge of the team''s residential facility. Almost everyone bypassed the elevators that would take them to their rooms, instead sprinting toward the lounge to relax and celebrate together.


    Luca found himself slowly growing fond of alcohol, but only in small quantities and always paired with something sweet, like a soft drink. He remembered the first time he''d tried a cocktail¡ªhesitant at first, unsure about the mix of spirits and soda. But once it touched his tongue, he was hooked¡ªnot because of the alcohol''s strength, but because of the unreal balance and the bubbly sensation that tickled his palate.


    Moments later, McCauley played some music, and soft jazz began to emanate from the hidden speakers. To everyone''s surprise, Ms. Vallotton came downstairs and joined the celebration, and even Mr. Grant followed a few minutes later. Dressed in a casual outfit, Mr. Grant helped himself to drinks that Luca was certain weren''t cocktails, but rather strong alcoholic beverages.


    Damn, Luca whispered to himself, taking in the sight of the new Trampos Racing F2 team celebrating together, dancing and chatting lightheartedly. A year ago, they hadn''t been this big in number, nor had they achieved such heights. But now, here they were. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca''s eyes scanned the room in search of Ansel. He figured this was the perfect moment to talk to his best friend about the beach day he had planned for them.


    After scanning the room for a while and finding no sign of Ansel, Luca set down his cocktail and started asking around. A few team members mentioned that Ansel had gone straight to his room after they arrived. Luca sighed, realizing he should''ve guessed that. Picking up his duffel bag, he told the others he was calling it a night and headed for the elevator.


    The ride up was brief, and the quiet hum of the elevator gave Luca a chance to collect his thoughts. When the doors slid open, he stepped into a dimly lit hallway bathed in a soft golden glow. The air was calm and still here, a complete contrast to the lively atmosphere of the lounge below. Room 56B was just a few doors down.


    When he reached Ansel''s door, Luca knocked softly and waited. After about thirty seconds with no response, he knocked again, a bit louder this time. Just as he raised his hand for a third try, the door swung open, revealing Ansel. His expression was neutral, almost distant. Their eyes met briefly.


    "What''s up?" Ansel asked, his tone as neutral as his face.


    Luca took a moment to study his friend, noting that Ansel was already dressed for bed and had likely showered. Determined to make the conversation quick, he said, "Hey, uh¡­ when do you think you''ll be free in the next few days? Remember Harry? We''ve been planning a beach day since before the race, and I thought we could finally make it happen before we head back to Berlin. You in?"


    For a moment, Luca thought Ansel might brush him off. Those cold, piercing eyes seemed to weigh him carefully, as though measuring his intent. Then, to Luca''s surprise, Ansel nodded almost immediately.


    "Sure. No problem," Ansel replied. Enjoy exclusive chapters from empire


    Before Luca could say anything else, Ansel stepped back and began closing the door. The abruptness caught Luca off guard, and he scrambled for a response. "Good night," he blurted out just as the door clicked shut.


    Luca stood there for a moment, staring at the polished wood, unsure of what to make of the interaction. He wasn''t sure what was wrong¡ªor if he didn''t want to know.


    All he knew was that he didn''t want their friendship to fall apart because of this career. Luca really liked Ansel and considered him his closest friend throughout his eighteen years of life, and he''d be devastated if anything ruined it.


    With a soft sigh, he turned and walked to his own room.

 Chapter 125 Morning After Victory

    Luca woke to the soft chime of his System, a reminder that it was time to begin his Daily Routine. He groaned, trying to move his arms and legs, but they felt impossibly heavy, as though they were anchored to the bed. One plush hotel pillow cradled his head, another was tucked against his chest, and despite his best efforts to roll over, the heavy weight of sleep held him captive. His eyelids refused to cooperate, and with a resigned sigh, Luca let himself drift back into unconsciousness.An hour and a half later, the System chimed again, louder and more persistent this time. Its mechanical voice pierced the silence, announcing it was now 7 a.m. Though Luca had missed his Daily Routine, normal activities still awaited him, as they did everyone else.


    His body still felt weak, almost leaden, and he made a quick decision to stay in bed, hugging his pillow tighter. Yet the sun seemed determined to undermine his plans. Bright rays streamed through the floor-to-ceiling window, slicing through the thin curtains and flooding the room with relentless, unwelcomed light.


    Groaning, Luca turned his back to the window, facing the wardrobe instead. He was about to surrender to sleep once more when a sharp knock at the door shattered the fragile tranquility.


    Luca considered ignoring it, hoping whoever was outside would lose patience and leave. But his phone on the side table began to ring, and its tone was insistent. He guessed the knocker and the caller were one and the same. With an audible sigh, Luca sat up on his bed.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    Luca pushed himself out of the bed, slugged to the door, his eyes still heavy with sleep as he opened it, meeting the intruder with a bleary gaze.


    Even with the haze, Luca immediately recognized Mallow and Sara. Their distinctive dress code hadn''t changed one bit.


    "Who sleeps in on an F1 Sunday?" Mallow teased, ending the still-ringing call in Luca''s hand without hesitation.


    Luca sighed, opening the door wider and gesturing for them to come in. "F2 Saturday''s Champion, apparently," he muttered, shuffling back toward his bed and sinking onto its edge. "What are you two doing here so early? Actually, what are you doing here at all?"


    Mallow and Sara strolled in like they owned the place, moving with purpose. They began rearranging the room''s furniture, dragging three boudoir chairs and a round table into the open space. Sara set a large shopping bag onto the table, its contents rustling as she moved. Luca didn''t need to look twice to know it was food.


    "Like you said¡ªSaturday''s Champion," Sara replied, sliding gracefully into one of the chairs and pulling out containers of breakfast. "We''re here to celebrate our very own Luca. That race was insane. I''ve never seen anything like it in my life."


    "Do you even realize how much money you saved¡ªand made¡ªfor me, Luca?!" Mallow boomed suddenly, his excitement bouncing off the walls. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca groaned, flopping backward onto the bed and draping an arm over his eyes. "I don''t wanna know. Don''t worry, I''ll make you lose your money one day. Just be patient."


    "Not happening! You''re too good to be bad," Mallow grinned, pulling a chair closer and slapping a to-go box onto the table. Your journey continues at empire


    Sara laughed as she finished unpacking the food, the table filling with white boxes from a popular European brand. "C''mon, Luca. There''s a chair here with your name on it¡ªand breakfast that won''t ruin your diet."


    "I''m more interested in sleeping than eating," Luca muttered, though the aroma of fresh pastries and coffee was beginning to tempt him.


    "Sleep? You didn''t stay up too late last night, did you?" Sara asked.


    Mallow, already sipping from a coffee cup, lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Maybe it''s the alcohol. He probably celebrated a little too hard."


    Sara shot him a glare. "Alcohol? Don''t be ridiculous. He''s just tired. Come on, Luca. Get up, brush your teeth, and join us. You need to hear how much chaos you caused last night¡ªMal couldn''t stop screaming¡ª"


    "I told you he was going to win!" Mallow interrupted, gesturing wildly with his coffee cup. "I said it over and over. But did anyone listen? Nope. Their loss."


    Sara raised an eyebrow, her tone sharp. "Oh, really? Didn''t you tell me you were cussing every five seconds when Luca wasn''t leading? And didn''t you almost rip up your betting slip?"


    Mallow froze for a moment before waving off her accusation. "I said¡­ I believed in him."


    Luca sighed, already tired of the escalating argument. He pushed himself off the bed and shuffled to the bathroom without a word.


    Once inside, he grabbed his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth, his eyes half-closed. Cold water splashed against his face as he rinsed off, jolting him awake. A quick glance in the mirror made him groan. "I look like Adolf Hitler," he muttered abruptly before smoothing down his unruly hair.


    Minutes later, he emerged looking slightly more presentable and took the chair they''d left for him. Sara slid a coffee cup toward him, and he reached for it without a word.


    Mallow and Sara watched him intently, their eyes glinting with mischief. Luca tried his best to make no eye contact with them, as he knew they wanted to make him laugh.


    "So," Mallow began, leaning forward, "are you ready to become the first Hawthorne ambassador in motorsport? We''re signing the final contract on Tuesday."


    "Yes," Luca replied, sipping his coffee.


    Mallow leaned back dramatically. "Well, Mrs. Hawthorne herself called me last night. She''s THRILLED with the Mandalora result. Said you''ve already raised her brand''s profile. Imagine if you keep winning more GPs¡ªshe''ll be even more famous outside Europe. And richer, obviously."


    Sara smiled softly. "Isn''t that the goal?" she asked.


    "Exactly," Mallow said. "As a token of her appreciation, she''s invited us to dinner at one of her mansions here in Barcelona after the signing. But guess what? Sara''s not invited."


    Sara scoffed, crossing her arms. "Like I care."


    "That''s nice of her," Luca said, his voice neutral. "We''re accepting, right?"


    Mallow frowned theatrically, shaking his head as he bit into a doughnut. "Luca... eat! This afternoon, we''ll get you a suit and shoes fit for her elegance."


    Luca smiled faintly, nodding as he finally turned his attention to the meal before him.

 Chapter 126 Tailoring For Success

    Just as planned, Sara and Mallow took Luca to a boutique and then to a tailor. The name of the tailoring brand was Armand Lavelle, an elegant French establishment specializing in crafting one-of-a-kind suits and eveningwear for discerning clients. With only a handful of branches across Europe¡ªincluding one in Italy and the one they were visiting in Barcelona¡ªits main branch was nestled in a historic Parisian mansion near Place Vend?me.The prices were as grandiose as the brand itself, but Mallow had no doubts that Luca could afford them. He had briefly considered taking Luca to Casa de Costura Reyes, a tailoring brand indirectly owned by Mrs. Hawthorne, like so many other properties. But the prices there were nearly double those of Lavelle''s, and Luca had shut down the idea, calling Mallow a sycophant and telling him to quit kissing Mrs. Hawthorne''s ass.


    Despite it being a Sunday, the Armand Lavelle shop in Barcelona was open. While Mallow''s original plan was to buy an off-the-rack suit and have it tailored to fit Luca, they ended up handling both activities there. With Circuito del Barca¨CRaval filling up for the early evening F1 race, the shop was almost empty, allowing them to be attended to with ease.


    Luca was quickly recognized as the Trampos driver who had won the F2 Spanish Grand Prix the previous day. The polished staff showered him with praise as they took his measurements. Luca''s waist was a trim 32 inches, chest 40 inches, and shoulders 18 inches. His sleeve length, biceps, and trouser inseam measured 25, 14, and 32 inches respectively.


    The tailor nodded approvingly as they jotted down the final numbers, murmuring something about Luca having the "ideal figure for bespoke tailoring." Mallow, of course, had to ruin the moment by joking that it just meant Luca had long legs¡ªan entirely untrue observation.


    When it came time to choose the fabric for the suit, Sara took full control. She had made it clear on the ride over that Mallow knew nothing about elegance, always opting for casual tracksuits or what she called "a pile of black clothes." Luca couldn''t argue with her on that. True to form, Sara was dressed impeccably in a black dress shirt and skirt, while Mallow, predictably, was dressed in exactly what Sara had described.


    The perfect fabric for dinner with the Hawthorne family had to exude elegance befitting the presence of billionaires. After some deliberation, they settled on a midnight blue Super 150s wool. Sara explained that its rich, dark color would look sophisticated under the soft lighting typical of any tycoon''s mansion.


    As Sara and Mallow continued discussing with the cutters and staff, Luca wandered over to the small lounge area. He sank into a soft, plush sofa and began scrolling through his phone, only to be distracted by the neatly arranged items on the polished coffee table in front of him. Among them was a pristine newspaper, folded neatly as though untouched.


    Curious, Luca reached for it and unfolded it. His movements froze when he saw his own face staring back at him from the front page, the bold headline above it reading:


    "F2''S DANGER: RISING STAR OR RECKLESS MAVERICK?"


    Me?


    He quickly flipped to the designated page, unsure of what to expect. Was it praise for his third consecutive GP win? A critique of something ridiculous? Another media jab at his unique, impactful driving style?


    Luca''s brows furrowed as he reached Page 6, where another headline caught his eye:


    "LUCA RENNICK: F1 POTENTIAL?"


    A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Of course, why not? He leaned back and began reading the article, his thoughts already racing ahead of what he might see.


    It began with praises for the Italian youngster who had joined the mid-table team, Trampos Racing, and elevated them to championship contenders, now leading the table. The article highlighted how Luca''s exceptional driving had rewarded him with three consecutive GP wins¡ªin London, Budapest, and Barcelona¡ªearning him a total of 79 points. It went on to commend his Fastest Lap record, calling it nothing short of remarkable.


    As Luca read further, the focus shifted to debates about his chances of clinching the F2 championship. Comparisons were drawn to Max Addams'' winning season the year prior, which had been a benchmark for F2 excellence.


    However, Luca could tell this particular journalist wasn''t entirely fond of him. The critique of his driving style was thinly veiled, suggesting that Luca might "make history" if he kept driving that way. Luca understood the implication behind those words¡ªthe real context it conveyed.


    The bold words "F1 POTENTIAL?" caught his attention again, the article boldly asserting that Luca Rennick was likely to be approached by an F1 team after the season, regardless of his final standing in the championship. His performance had already made him a standout.


    Continue your journey on empire


    Yes. That''s what I want, Luca thought. He had given his all on Saturday, winning the Spanish Grand Prix in front of teams like Nevada HanSama, Squadra Corse, Bueseno Velocit¨¤, Jackson Racing, Haddock Racing, and others. He pictured their management teams whispering and debating about him, their interest growing stronger.


    Luca sighed, folding the newspaper once he reached the end of the article. It concluded with a monochrome image of him dressed sharply in a Trampos Veststar, the emblem of his rising status.


    He placed the newspaper down and turned his attention to his phone, scrolling through messages in the group chat McCauley had created several days ago. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As he read, it seemed his plans for the beach with Ansel and Harry must have leaked, or someone else must have had the same idea. A crew member suggested it, and everyone agreed, saying they''ll storm the beach the very next day.


    Sara and Mallow returned to the lounge where he was seated, announcing it was time to leave.


    "The suit will be ready on Tuesday morning. I''ll come pick it up," Sara said.


    "Wow," Luca said, standing up. "And here I thought it was being sewn right now. You guys took your time."


    Mallow laughed, leading the way to the door while greeting the staff as they left. "Ask Sara. She''s putting in all this effort for a dinner she''s not even attending. Ha!"

 Chapter 127 Beach Day

    Luca returned to the facility and back to the crew, spending the rest of the day relaxing around the hotel and the small track nearby. Some of the team members had planned to attend the F1 race at 4 PM, but the Circuito del Barca¨CRaval was completely filled and sold out. Even the exclusive reserved sections were fully occupied as notable figures from around the world flew in to witness the F1 Spanish Grand Prix in person.Stay connected through empire


    With no access to the race, the team decided to entertain themselves within the venue. Others opted to stay in their rooms to unwind. Around 3:30 PM, after a satisfying lunch, Luca felt a wave of fatigue and decided to head back to his room. On the way, he paused for a moment outside Ansel''s door, hesitating as if he was debating whether to knock. He shook off the thought, swiped his key card, and entered his quiet, cool room.


    Once inside, Luca immediately turned on the TV. Like many others, he wanted to watch the Spanish GP too, so he let the pre-race coverage¡ªrecaps, analytics, debates, and interviews¡ªplay in the background while he prepared a snack to enjoy during the race. He predicted the event would officially conclude around 6 PM, giving him a solid two hours of entertainment.


    From the kitchenette, Luca returned with a classic Italian panino, resembling a homemade burger but with a simple and flavorful combination of cheese, tomato, and a slice of ham. Satisfied with his creation, he walked back to the main area, closed the curtains to block out the warm afternoon sun, and sank into the bed with the remote in hand.


    The television buzzed to life, informing him that the volume was at 100%, though it could go up to 300%. Luca left it as it was, dropping the remote slowly as an intriguing F1 data graphic flashed onto the screen:


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    ------------------------------------


    1. | Jackson Racing | 150


    2. | Squadra Corse | 141


    3. | Nevada HanSama | 125


    4. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ | 106


    5. | Haddock Racing | 102


    Luca''s jaw dropped open. Wow! Such competition! Everyone is a freaking threat! There''s only a 48-point difference between Jackson and Haddock?!


    He stared at the standings in disbelief, marveling at how tight the competition was this season. And to think he considered the F2 championship intense! These F1 teams swapped positions after every GP as if it were a game. Just before the Hungarian Grand Prix, Squadra Corse had led the standings, but Jackson Racing had upended them with Rodnick''s stellar P1 finish.


    Shaking his head in astonishment, Luca focused back on the screen as Mandalora''s track was shown from a bird''s-eye view, with its 200,000-capacity stadium buzzing with activity. The sheer spectacle of it all had him hooked. It had been a while since he''d watched a live race brimming with this much tension, and he was more than ready to dive in. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ----------------------------------------


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Host should begin Daily Routine]


    Luca woke up feeling noticeably more refreshed and active than he had the previous day. As he rose from bed, his mind replayed the thrilling race he had watched the previous evening and the late-night discussions he''d shared with the team in the lounge.


    The Spanish Grand Prix had been an absolute spectacle, crowned by Bueseno Velocit¨¤''s rising star, 23-year-old Jimmy Damgaard, securing his first-ever Grand Prix victory. It wasn''t just a personal milestone for Damgaard¡ªit also catapulted Velocit¨¤ to third place in the championship standings. The race was defined by split-second decisions, daring overtakes, and moments of sheer brilliance from the drivers, with Damgaard capitalizing on every opportunity, and he even outpaced his teammate, Davide DiMarco, to claim the win.


    Luca couldn''t stop marveling at the intricacies of the race. The stark difference between A-rated engines and the B-tier SomberCore in terms of raw power fascinated him. Yet, the sheer skill level of the drivers made it nearly impossible to discern which cars truly held the upper hand. The blend of cutting-edge chassis designs and human talent blurred the lines between machinery and mastery, leaving Luca marveled.


    After getting dressed in swim shorts and a t-shirt, Luca packed his beach essentials¡ªtowels, sunscreen, and other necessities. Before leaving, he switched off the TV and lights in his room and made his way downstairs to join the rest of the team.


    Luca joined the team as they headed toward the bus. They were still discussing about the most amazing race in the whole of motorsport so far this season, and everyone wanted to air their opinion on what transpired through the 72 Laps. Luca made a deliberate effort to walk beside Ansel as they approached the bus, angling for a seat next to his teammate. His plan actually worked, but the ride to the beach passed in silence, neither of them saying a word.


    Trampos, infact, weren''t the only F2 team seeking to unwind by the Mediterranean Sea before returning to their respective bases across various countries. News had surfaced that several other F2 teams had planned similar visits to Barceloneta Beach on Monday. Recognizing the significant influx of high-profile racing teams and the potential crowding with civilians, the Barcelona Municipal Beach Authority stepped in to ensure a smoother experience for everyone.


    To accommodate the influx while preserving the serenity of the beach, they made the decision to restrict access for that day solely to the F2 teams and their staff. This arrangement struck a balance between exclusivity and capacity, as Barceloneta Beach''s vast expanse was more than adequate to host all the teams who had applied without feeling overcrowded.


    Each team was allotted their own "wing" or designated section of the beach, ensuring a level of privacy while still fostering an environment for casual mingling between teams. With this organized setup, the F2 teams could enjoy their day under the sun, free from interruptions, while locals and tourists were politely redirected to nearby beaches for their day out.


    At least, Trampos was the only top-tier team from the standings to head to the beach. This created a relaxed atmosphere, free of the tension that might have arisen if rival teams had shown up to keep watch from across the sands.


    Within minutes of their arrival, Luca spotted Harry, and the two friends quickly reconnected. It wasn''t long before introductions followed¡ªLuca introduced Harry to the Trampos Racing crew, while Harry introduced Luca to his own team, OLAC. Their meeting naturally led to the teams mingling, and before long, a casual beach competition was arranged between Trampos and OLAC.


    This was precisely the kind of activity that piqued Luca''s interest. As the preparations for the games began, he let his gaze drift across the beach, searching for Ansel. He finally spotted him seated calmly beneath an umbrella, deeply engrossed in the book they''d picked out together back in Monte Carlo.


    Luca exhaled softly. This wasn''t how he''d envisioned things. With the entire Trampos crew now present, rather than just himself, Ansel, and Harry, he wasn''t sure if he could lift Ansel''s mood as he''d hoped. He had wanted an almost quiet surrounding, but the beach was far from that now.


    A beach ball rolled to Luca''s bare feet, interrupting his thoughts. A female crew member, dressed in a bikini, jogged over to retrieve the ball as he bent to pick it up. "Soccer, volleyball, or dodgeball? Choose one," she said. As the winner of Saturday''s GP, everyone wanted Luca to choose their first game today.


    He flashed a smile, snatched the ball back playfully, and ran toward the crew, his toes digging into the warm sand.


    "Volleyball! Let''s go!" he shouted.

 Chapter 128 Ambassadorial Initiation

    Your journey continues at empireBy 10 a.m. the following morning, Sara arrived at Luca''s room, carrying his newly tailored Lavelle-branded suit. Without wasting time, she helped him test it right away, pairing it with an expensive brown leather belt she had picked up on her way.


    Once Luca donned the suit, he turned to face the mirror. His reflection caught him by surprise, and he found himself marveling at how well the suit fit. Whether it was the result of months of intense training with his system, piloting a single-seater, or simply natural growth, Luca wasn''t entirely sure. But now he understood why the cutter had described his physique as ideal for bespoke tailoring¡ªat least, that''s what he remembered the man saying.


    Sara stepped closer, adjusting the seams and ensuring every detail was perfect. She then took a picture of Luca and sent it to Mallow, who had insisted on approving the final look. If anything was even slightly off, Mallow had made it clear that changes would be arranged before their scheduled visit to Mrs. Hawthorne''s mansion at 5 p.m.


    Once the pictures were sent, Sara prepared to leave but paused to update Luca on her progress. She was finalizing the arrangements for his new residence and believed the contract they''d secure that evening would accelerate the process. If all went well, they could survey the property as soon as they returned to Berlin, and Luca might even move in before the end of August.


    Luca thanked Sara earnestly as she left. He couldn''t imagine what he would do without her and doubted if any other personal assistant could match her level of dedication. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Checking himself one last time in the mirror, Luca carefully removed the suit and hung it neatly in the wardrobe. He sighed and looked around his room, sucking in the life of a young man. He wondered what he could do before 4:30 pm when he''d start preparing and getting dressed. At the moment, he was tired of hanging with the crew as his social battery had just died down.


    Luca decided he''d call his family and learn what they''re up to. He wanted to know if Sophia had received her Cambridge admission results or if the process was still ongoing. He also thought of Isabella and her mention of her upcoming 17th birthday¡ªit was late July, so she might have turned 17 by now.


    Luca got to work. He picked up his phone and laptop. Placing them on the table, he slid into the chair, ready to video call his family first.


    ------------------------------------


    By 4:30 p.m., Luca took a quick shower, styled his hair, and slipped into his midnight blue suit. He stood before the mirror, scrutinizing every detail to ensure his appearance was flawless. Satisfied, he left his hotel room and headed to the lounge, where he planned to wait for Mallow.


    When Luca arrived, some of the crew members were visibly astonished by his outfit. Their curiosity was evident, and they began asking about his destination. Luca, careful to avoid revealing too much, simply said it was a date and he was seeing someone. This immediately shut down queries because no one wanted to feel like they were pestering his personal life.


    Mallow arrived on time, giving Luca a quick once-over before nodding approvingly. Together, they left the facility and headed to the car Mallow had arranged for their transit.


    Mrs. Hawthorne''s mansion in Barcelona was located well away from the outskirts of the city. It was an estate in the Pedralbes neighborhood which was well-known for its hilly terrain, manicured gardens and ancient olive trees that led to the grand stone fa?ade. Its seclusion from the main city made Mallow and Luca''s drive a long one, but they reached anyway as the time neared 5 pm.


    Their Ford SUV drove past the Mediterranean coastline, driving deeper into the more serene areas of the neighborhood as lush greenery bordered the horizon.


    Mallow eventually turned into a private driveway flanked by elegant wrought-iron gates bearing the Hawthorne family crest which was a bronze lion standing on its hind limbs and hoisting a huge gold coin embedded with the capital letter H. Now, Luca could remember a lot of times he''d seen something like that back in the UK. He cleared his throat and straightened up as Mallow rolled the car slowly toward the guards.


    With one glance at Luca, the guard promptly nodded and waved them through. Mallow chuckled and crept the SUV into the cobblestone path that led into the main estate. The huge mansion came into view and Mallow parked near the fountain at the center of the circular driveway.


    The gentle sound of the trickling fountain water seemed loud as the two stepped out, adjusting their ties and files to feel authentic. "Okay, let''s do this son. Let''s not screw up," Mallow whispered as four men in black began walking toward them.


    "You''re overthinking, man. Stop it," Luca shot back.


    "Welcome to the Hawthorne residence," said one of the men. He gestured for Luca and Mallow to follow.


    Luca and Mallow complied, following the men to ascend the wide stone staircase leading to the grand entrance before they approached the massive oak doors.


    Inside, the air was cool and carried a faint scent of polished wood and expensive cologne. The grandeur of the foyer was impossible to miss as everything screamed wealth and defined old money.


    The men in black escorted them through a series of hallways adorned with antique paintings and statues until they reached a large conference room. Inside, a long oak table dominated the space, with leather chairs arranged neatly around it. Several people were already seated¡ªMrs. Hawthorne''s legal team and personal assistants, who rose to greet them as they entered. The contract signing was to be carried out without delay.


    Mallow maintained his composure, pulling out a chair for Luca before taking his own seat. The meeting began without delay, with both parties reviewing the contract''s terms one final time. Luca paid close attention, memorizing the numerous dos and don''ts he was expected to follow as a Hawthorne ambassador. The atmosphere was so formal and professional it felt suffocating, yet Luca stayed composed.


    When the time came, Luca signed where instructed, with Mallow following suit. The deal was sealed in less than twenty minutes. Luca Rennick was now officially an ambassador for Mrs. Hawthorne and her family within the world of motorsport.


    A firm handshake marked the conclusion of the meeting, and the representatives offered warm congratulations.


    "You''ll be escorted to the dining hall shortly," one of the assistants informed them. "Mrs. Hawthorne and her family will join you right at six."


    Luca and Mallow were led to a lavish waiting lounge with plush seating, where refreshments had been laid out. When all servants were out of sight, Mallow began to congratulate Luca. Luca, on the other hand, fought hard not to react the same way and tried to hide his excitement. Mallow refused to let go until Luca reminded him he would soon rumple his nice suit, and Mallow quickly withdrew his hands.


    At exactly six, they were ushered into the dining hall, an expansive room with large windows offering a stunning view of the estate''s gardens. A long dining table was set with fine china, crystal glasses, and a centerpiece of fresh flowers. They were directed exactly where to sit and Luca found himself seated near one end of the table, Mallow, at the middle of one side. Luca took a deep breath as the seconds ticked by, Mrs. Hawthorne''s arrival impending.


    Fortunately, they didn''t have to wait long. Moments later, the doors opened, and Mrs. Hawthorne entered, accompanied by her family. Without being told, Luca and Mallow knew they had to be on their feet as the family approached the table.


    Mrs. Hawthorne had three children¡ªone a child, another a preteen, and the eldest, a grown adult who appeared older than Luca. This sight made Luca wonder just how long ago her husband had passed.


    The eldest was a striking, prince-like figure, with sharp features and a confident demeanor. Luca guessed he was pretty much about Ansel''s age. The middle child, a young girl with the same golden hair as her mother, had a beauty that was almost ethereal. Her fair skin seemed like she had never stepped out under the sun. The third child looked well like a child version of the first born as he clung to his elder brother, gripping his hand tightly. Instantly, Luca believed he liked this family, the same way he liked Mrs. Hawthorne within a minute.


    Mrs. Hawthorne herself was stunning, dressed in a flowing ivory gown and golden seam and neckline. She walked elegantly to the head chair, stopping behind it and her children stopped as well. "Mr. Mallow and Formula 2 Spanish Grand Prix winner, Luca Rennick," she greeted softly.


    "The pleasure is ours, Mrs. Hawthorne," Mallow replied on behalf of them both.


    Mrs. Hawthorne''s piercing blue eyes lingered on Luca for a moment longer than expected before she frowned. Luca''s heart skipped at that moment. "Is that Lavelle you''re wearing?" Mrs. Hawthorne asked.


    Luca was startled. "Yes, ma''am," he replied.


    "Ughh. I really dislike them," Mrs. Hawthorne remarked with a hint of disdain. "Their tailoring is impeccable, yes, but they often sacrifice individuality for trend-chasing. True elegance should never feel mass-produced."


    Luca eyed Mallow wickedly. "I''m sorry ma''am. I''ll patronize another next time," he said, wondering how she was able to detect which tailoring brand made the suit.


    "Don''t trouble yourself, dear; you look wonderful in it," Mrs. Hawthorne said. "However, as our ambassador now, it''s only fitting that your professional wardrobe comes exclusively from Casa Reyes. Consider it a matter of principle."


    Mallow nodded like a soldier. "Certainly! We will do that."


    Mrs. Hawthorne smiled and settled into her seat. "I trust the evening will be as productive as it is pleasant," she said smoothly, also speaking to a servant.


    The eldest son stepped forward, extending his hand to Luca. "Adrian Hawthorne," he introduced himself. Luca returned the pleasure and shook his hand firmly.


    Adrian also introduced his young siblings; Charlotte and Henry before they all sat down around the table.


    The first dish of dinner was served and it was velvety pumpkin bisque garnished with dollops of cream and sprinkles of toasted seeds. The family and their guests began digging into the soup delicately as Mrs. Hawthorne initiated the dinner conversation.


    She started off by congratulating Luca on his impressive victory in the Spanish Grand Prix. She and her family were indeed present to watch the race, the very reason why they were in Barcelona in the first place. She narrated how her last child Henry was jubilating on top of his voice when Luca turned the tables upside down at the ending laps, right when it seemed things were going sideways for him.


    Luca emerged first and if he kept up this run, it would both benefit the both of them.


    The second course of the dinner followed and the third, until the main course arrived shortly after. The main dish was a perfectly cooked beef tenderloin paired with roasted vegetables and a delicate red wine reduction. By then, Mrs. Hawthorne, Luca and Mallow had delved deep into conversations far from what they had gathered there for. Even Adrian spoke occasionally to help his mother whenever she forgot something as she was the head of the storytelling.


    At around 7:30 pm, Charlotte and Henry were escorted out of the dining room to prepare for the night, leaving the adults to continue with their conversation and also have dessert.


    Luca couldn''t believe the responsibilities he had on his shoulder as he was now tied to this family in some way. He was expected to get all his professional and formal attire from Casa de Costura Reyes and nowhere else. Casual wear should also come from Hawthorne-affiliated fashion lines. Watches, cufflinks, belts, briefcases should all be of the same source.


    Just like he was told earlier at the first contract, all his electronic devices must be switched to all brands Mrs. Hawthorne held stakes in. And his finances? Luca was required to move his banking to Hawthorne Trust & Finance with immediate effect.


    The only silver line feature of this affiliation Luca loved so much was that all personally owned vehicles he would use must be a luxury car from their partnered automotive brand¡ªJaguar. And he''d be getting one free in the coming months! Additionally, his new residence was expected to be furnished in the same responsibility with all interior designs exclaiming Luca Rennick was part of Hawthorne.


    Luca didn''t know why, but it felt like he was joining some rich cult.

 Chapter 129 Championship Clarity

    Wednesday, all F1 and F2 teams got ready to depart Spain, save for those based in the country. Luca found himself reflecting on the wonderful evening he had spent at Mrs. Hawthorne''s mansion, recognizing how much the little event could mean for his career moving forward.Earlier that morning, a representative had come by the facility and specifically requested to meet with Luca. The meeting took place in Luca''s hotel room, where the man arrived carrying a large, impressive briefcase. Inside it were the essentials Luca needed to get started on this new chapter. The man carefully unveiled a brand-new phone from the Airphone brand, a company known for its cutting-edge, innovative technology. It was the latest model in the Airphone series, boasting some of the most advanced features available. The representative assisted Luca in safely transferring all his data from his old phone to the new device and even provided it with a sturdy, stylish protective pack.


    Luca''s laptop received a similar upgrade. The man ensured that all of Luca''s data was securely transferred before finishing the setup. During this time, Sara had called to inform him that she had already begun working on the necessary banking updates and was expediting the process as quickly as she could.


    When the representative completed his work, Luca expressed his gratitude, and the man departed with a friendly wave. Luca stood before his bed, surveying the items neatly arranged on the mattress. There lay a phone, a tablet, a laptop, and an innovative wireless earpiece¡ªall sporting the same sleek, cohesive design. Luca couldn''t help but feel impressed by the collection.


    He appreciated the timing of the representative''s visit, as the sight of these devices spurred him into the mood for packing. A glance at the digital clock on his bedside table confirmed the time: 11 a.m. With the team''s flight scheduled for 2 p.m., Luca set to work without delay.


    He would dearly miss this hotel room because of its generous space and comforting luxury. This was far the best self accommodating room he''d had through all the GPs and their respective nations. Luca rolled his bag to the center of the room, unzipped it and placed it lying down.


    Luca methodically packed his clothes, ensuring everything was neatly arranged. Noticing extra space, he placed his laptop and tablet carefully among the folds of his clothing. Once satisfied with his packing, he zipped the bag shut and rolled it to the door.


    Afterward, Luca returned to the edge of the bed, holding his mp3 player in one hand and the new wireless earpiece¡ªor earbuds, as they were often called¡ªin the other. He also glanced at the wireless headphones that had been included in the set, pondering how he might balance using all three devices. One thing he knew for certain was that his trusty mp3 player wasn''t going anywhere. He was attached to the device, along with the familiar albums stored on its SD card, which he enjoyed revisiting time and time again. Over the years, he had developed a tradition¡ªusing his mp3 player before races and his headphones while in transit or in situations where the cords of his earpiece might get tangled if he used the mp3.


    Now, with the addition of the earbuds, Luca had to rethink his routine.


    After much deliberation, he concluded that the earbuds would best serve him during public outings, particularly for official events. They would remain connected to his phone, ready to handle calls, messages, or notifications on the go. Still, when it came to his heavy metal music, Luca knew he would rely on his mp3 player and headphones, as they provided a sense of familiarity and comfort that the sleek new earbuds couldn''t quite replace.


    Luca rushed into the bathroom as soon as he checked the time again. Emerging 15 minutes later, he dressed in his usual tracksuit, pairing it with white sneakers to complete his look. He hung his headphones around his neck, packed the two other devices, and connected the headphones to his smartphone before tucking the phone into his pocket and grabbing his duffel bag.


    He took one last look at the hotel room that had been his home for the past few days. The kitchenette, in particular, would be missed. With a sigh, Luca rolled his suitcase out of the room, locking the door behind him for the final time. He made his way down to the lounge to regroup with the others. Enjoy more content from empire


    By 1 p.m., everyone was ready to leave, including Mr. Grant and Ms. Val. They all handed their keys to the facility''s organizers, expressing heartfelt gratitude for the excellent hospitality before heading to the waiting buses. As always, Luca ensured he secured a seat next to Ansel.


    The team boarded their flight to Berlin promptly at 2 p.m. During the flight, Luca felt a quiet satisfaction as he and Ansel chatted briefly. It wasn''t a long conversation, but it was enough. Ansel seemed deeply engrossed in his book, and Luca guessed he''d likely finish it in a few days.


    When they arrived at Berlin Brandenburg Airport, the team efficiently disembarked, collected their luggage, and loaded into their transport vehicles for the ride into the city.


    Luca couldn''t believe this inner feeling of being happy he was back in Berlin. It felt like though Germany was slowly becoming his new home and everything was beginning to feel familiar with time¡ªnot the language though, Luca couldn''t even understand greetings yet. But he was glad English was very predominant in the country, its capital especially.


    By the time they reached the team headquarters, the evening was approaching, though the sky remained bright and clear. The team dispersed, heading either to their homes or to accommodations within the headquarters. Mr. Grant announced that everyone would regroup on Friday for a warm-up session and to acknowledge the successful completion of the eighth round, as August¡ªand the Saudi Arabian GP¡ªwas fast approaching.


    Luca waved goodbye to Ansel, Victor, and Haas, who had homes outside the headquarters. He spent some time chatting with the remaining crew based at the facility until the evening fully descended.


    Finally, Luca retired to his space with a wide smile. He realized this might be the last time he returned to this accommodation after a Grand Prix, as changes loomed on the horizon. He phoned Sara to inform her of his safe arrival before unpacking and settling in. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca carefully placed his F2 Spanish Grand Prix trophy on his table and stepped back to admire it. Winning in Mandalora had been a dream for many, and he had accomplished it. Now, his sights were set on the Saudi Arabian GP and the upcoming races. Confidence surged within him¡ªhe believed he could achieve it all!


    --


    --


    A/N: One personality has been put in the character art (?+?_?+?)Please like if you like the personality

 Chapter 130 Championship Clarity 2

    Saudi Arabian Grand PrixLocation: Riyadh, Saudi Arabia


    Date: August 14


    Track: Riyadh Zenith Circuit S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton had their eyes set on the upcoming 9th round of the championship. Both understood that this stage of the season was critical, especially with the results from Budapest and Barcelona serving as clear indicators of what needed to be done. Two months ago, they had agreed to revisit their management approach based on these races, and now the time had come to make adjustments that could potentially reshape the entire structure of Trampos Racing. Careful reasoning was required with the help of their strategists, as their decisions would influence not only the team''s performance but also its standing in the championship.


    Ms. Vallotton''s proposal as soon as she became vice in Trampos, was to tilt even slightly the driver structure. This tilt would bring Luca a fraction above Ansel in importance and prioritization as they aimed to extract his constant top points every Grand Prix. Mr. Grant would likely do this by subtly shifting the team''s on-track focus Luca''s race strategy, ensuring that resources, pit timings, and team directives aligned with maximizing his performance.


    Mr. Grant had accepted this proposal, but didn''t implement it right away. He cautiously stalled any changes by giving his two periodic drivers two Grands Prix to make him fully understand and direct his thoughts on the right path. And after the Hungarian and Spanish Grands Prix, Mr. Grant believed he had seen enough to adhere to Ms. Vallotton''s proposal and shift the team''s directives another way. There were just four rounds left¡ªfour Grands Prix remaining, and Mr. Grant wanted nothing jeopardizing Trampos'' 54-point over Velocit¨¤. They needed to hold steady and strong, and defend relentlessly for four more Featured Races.


    To address this, Mr. Grant decided to transition Trampos Racing from the Dual Advance strategy to the Tiered Pursuit approach. This new system was a structured framework designed to prioritize the top-tier driver¡ªLuca, in this case¡ªas the primary driver. Meanwhile, Ansel''s role would be adjusted to one of strategic support, ensuring the team could consistently extract the maximum possible points in the championship.


    The key advantage of the Tiered Pursuit strategy was its clarity. Both drivers would now have well-defined roles, reducing ambiguity and hesitation during critical on-track moments. This change was prompted by the events of the Spanish Grand Prix, which highlighted the flaws in the Dual Advance strategy and Mr. Grant didn''t like it one bit. Under the previous system, both drivers were given equal status, with the general expectation that one would fend off rivals while the other pushed forward. However, this approach failed when Luca and Ansel were directly competing against each other. Neither made the decision to yield, leading to wasted time and... two contacts.


    The Tiered Pursuit strategy directly addressed such scenarios. Even in cases where Driver B¡ªAnsel¡ªovertook Driver A¡ªLuca¡ªperhaps by chance or circumstance, Driver B would be required to deliberately relinquish the position back to Driver A. This was not a slight against Driver B''s abilities but a calculated decision based on predictive analysis. The team understood that Driver A, being the primary focus, was more likely to defend or even improve the position effectively, while Driver B might lose it more easily under pressure.


    To avoid outright demoting Ansel, Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton were careful to frame the shift as a strategy for long-term team success rather than favoritism. Ansel''s role would remain crucial, but he would be tasked more with securing solid finishes, defending against rival teams, and supporting Luca when necessary to maintain the team''s overall points advantage.


    This was how Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton presented their new strategy to the Trampos board. In motorsport, management played a crucial role in overseeing significant decisions like a strategy change. The Principal and his vice submitted the revised structure for Trampos Racing to Mr. Fisher and Mrs. Doyle, seeking their approval.


    Mrs. Doyle, having witnessed the fallout from both encounters in Mandalora, saw this new plan as a safeguard against such issues occurring again and a pathway for future progress. She accepted it immediately, recognizing its potential to streamline team operations and enhance overall performance.


    Mr. Fisher, on the other hand, accepted the proposal with a more cynical reason¡ªfavoritism. He had always had a soft spot for Luca. He believed in the Tiered Pursuit strategy''s merit in maintaining a clear hierarchy within the team, but his preference for Luca as the face of Trampos was personal. Additionally, they were in the midst of extending Luca''s contract, and Fisher saw this strategy as an opportunity to make Luca fully earn the status of being the highest-paid individual in Trampos. In summary, Mr. Fisher''s support was driven not just by the merits of the strategy but by his own bias toward Luca.


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    This new structure was set to be launched as soon as training and drills for the next GP began.


    Friday arrived, and only a portion of the Trampos Racing team gathered at the headquarters. For those like Luca, who were based there, skipping regrouping days wasn''t an option. Attendance was mandatory, even if the activities planned didn''t involve driving.


    The morning started with a light group exercise session. Even crew members, from engineers to strategists, were encouraged to stay physically active to keep up with the demands of race weekends. They jogged around the designated track surrounding the facility, keeping pace with one another until there was full sunrise.


    There was nothing much to do but discuss about the past race and their metrics while the mechanics and engineers worked on their Dallaras. There was a lot of repair and changes to be done after disassembling the single-seaters. Luca and Ansel''s regular contact in Mandalora was too severe and there were still some damages a regular pitstop couldn''t fix. Now in their base, the mechanics and engineers could take their time to fix the cars, restore good aerodynamicity, fuel and ERS consumption and most importantly, good engine output.

 Chapter 131 Attributes Advancement 3

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...][Host should begin his Daily Routine]


    I wonder what we''re going to focus on today, Luca thought. I''ve taken all Attributes to twenty and above. Now it''s just to take them to thirty and so on. "Status, system. I wanna see their values so I can start making progress early on."


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 71 kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 35%


    Strength: 22


    Stamina: 28


    Endurance: 24


    Agility: 24


    Intelligence: 21]


    "Hmm. I guess stamina is it then," Luca said, making his way into the gym after he started his day like usual. He caught sight of Amir, utilizing Trampos gym equipment as he did drops with a dumbbell. Luca continued communicating with his system. "So, what do you recommend for a session today?"


    [Generating activities for Stamina Attribute...]


    [.... Successfully generated]


    [Stamina is key for you, as it directly influences your Endurance attribute too and the ability to maintain peak performance throughout a race.]


    [Enhanced Stamina ensures you can handle the grueling demands of high-speed racing without succumbing to fatigue, enabling you to stay focused and make critical decisions under pressure.]


    [Today''s session will focus on Heavy Bag Workout alone]


    "What''s up, Luca?" Amir said as soon as Luca came into view. He stood up from the press bench and let out a sharp exhale, looking up at his client. "You called me for some core chop and chop. What do you wanna do, or should I resume from last time?"


    Luca''s eyes drifted to the heavy bag hanging in the corner of the gym, swaying lightly as if calling for attention. "Let''s go heavy bag punching today," he said, rolling his shoulders to loosen up. "I need something that''ll burn me out."


    Amir smirked, clapping his hands together. "Music to my ears! Let''s warm up first, though. Can''t have you tearing a muscle before the fun begins."


    Luca nodded, recalling his dynamic Advanced Bundle Daily exercise before he and Amir got to it. They started with a warm-up, including jumping jacks, arm swings, and light shadowboxing. Once Luca was loosened up, they got into the more strenuous exercises, like clap push-ups and the rest of them. Amir kept an eye on Luca, ensuring his movements were fluid and controlled.


    After five more minutes, Amir clapped again. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [EXERCISE: HEAVY BAG WORKOUT]


    [EQUIPMENT: HEAVY PUNCHING BAG, WRAPS & GLOVES]


    [Host is required to deliver rapid combinations of punches and kicks on the heavy bag. Focus on technique, endurance, and power.]


    [This will be done in 3-minute rounds, alternating between:


    1. Jab-Cross-Hook Combos.


    2. Uppercuts and Body Shots.


    3. High and Low Kick Combos.]


    [Rest for 1 minute between rounds and repeat for 6 rounds.]


    Amir secured the heavy bag, ensuring it was fastened tightly and ready to take a pounding. "Alright, champ, gloves on," he said, tossing a pair of Trampos red-and-black training gloves to Luca.


    Luca caught the gloves mid-air, slipped them on, and tightened the straps. He rotated his shoulders and shook his arms. Never had he punched a heavy bag, and the curiosity to experience it made his pulse quicken.


    Bouncing lightly on his feet, Luca sized up the bag as it swayed gently before him. He jabbed it experimentally. Amir nodded in approval, and Luca found a rhythm, switching to a one-two combo: jab-cross, jab-cross. The heavy bag rocked under the impact, vibrations coursing through his gloves into his arms. Damn! The bag felt like solid cement. He wondered how gym rats managed to punch it so hard it started swinging like a pendulum.


    Despite the initial shock, he incorporated more punches into his growing rhythm. Jab-cross-hook. Jab-hook-cross. Sweat began forming on his brow as he circled the bag, staying light on his feet.


    "Punch the freaking bag, Luca. Don''t romance it! Blow its face off!" Amir barked, circling Luca and the bag like a drill sergeant.


    Minutes passed, and Luca''s punches grew deeper and harder, forcing the bag to sway erratically. At least he managed to make it move!


    [Good job, host.]


    [Moving on to the sub next]


    [Uppercuts and Body Shots]


    After taking a short rest, Luca resumed, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his glove as the bag finally slowed to a stop. He ignored the burns in his arms by shaking them, and adjusted his stance to begin, squaring up the bag by visualizing its target zones.


    First came the uppercuts. He did this by dipping his knees and keeping his elbows tight to his body. Then Luca drove his right fist upward into the bag with a swift, sharp motion. The impact sent the bag jerking upward slightly. Without hesitation, he followed with his left hand, alternating between fists to cause mayhem onto the heavy bag.


    [Good, host. Adjust the angle slightly and keep the power consistent.]


    Luca nodded to himself, tilting his head to avoid a phantom counterpunch as he stepped to the side and delivered another crushing body shot. The bag swung harder now, almost taunting him to strike again. He obliged with a savage uppercut, landing it square in the center.


    "Very good!" Amir praised, watching Luca battled with the now animate object. He announced the end of that with time, and let Luca gather himself.


    [Good job, host]


    [Moving on to the sub next]


    [High and Low Kick Combos]


    Luca took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, shaking out his arms to ease the tension from the relentless punches. His knuckles ached beneath the gloves, but there was a newfound energy coursing through him, pushing him forward.


    All of a sudden, I''m an MMA fighter, Luca thought as he shifted his weight between his legs. Amir instructed him on a perfect combination and Luca obliged, visualizing it while sizing up the heavy bag.


    Starting low but very fast, Luca pivoted on his left foot and swung his right leg in a low, sharp arc, landing the inside of his shin against the bag''s lower half!


    "Oof! That was hard!" Amir encouraged with a sharp clap.


    Before the reverberation through the bag could settle, Luca pivoted on his left foot and swung his right leg in a low, sharp arc, landing the inside of his shin against the bag''s lower half with the same quickness his Agility and Reflexes granted him.


    [Agility: 24]


    [Reflexes: 20 (+2)]


    High, low. Low, high. His kicks alternated between equal levels of the bag. Luca did feel the pain in his shins as if he was striking hard cement, but it was satisfying in some way as it died down, replaced by a new pain every second.


    [Excellent progress, host. Maintain consistency. You''re engaging multiple muscle groups effectively.]


    Luca adjusted, raising his hands instinctively as he planted another low kick, then drove his opposite leg upward in a high, snapping strike. His balance improved with each repetition and his body moved in perfect sync with the rhythm of the exercise.


    The sweat dripping down his face blurred his vision, but he didn''t falter as he quickened his pace, rotating between high and low kicks. Eventually, the system announced his completion and so did Amir.


    Ding!


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    [Stamina +1]


    Ooh? That fast? It must''ve been close. Thank goodness.


    [Good job, host. All exercises assigned have been completed.]


    [You can head over to the next phase of your Daily Routine. Your time in the gym today is over.]


    "Not bad at all," Amir said with a nod of approval, offering Luca a water bottle. He sized up Luca''s physique, nodding even more. "You''re really developing¡ªkudos, my friend!"


    Luca uncapped the bottle and took a long sip, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "That''s the goal," he muttered, exasperation mingled with satisfaction.


    Amir smirked, clapping Luca on the back. "So, when''s our next session? Tomorrow? Wednesday? Next week?"


    "Next week," Luca replied firmly, wiping the sweat off his face with the back of his glove.


    Amir''s grin widened. "Sounds good. Oh, and the boss lady mentioned you''ll be getting your own place soon. That means no more gym sessions here, huh? Moving up in the world. I like it."


    "Yeah, we''ll see how that goes," Luca said with a faint chuckle, shrugging off his gloves as Amir gave him a final pat on the shoulder and left the room.


    Luca stretched out his arms and rotated his shoulders, feeling the strain from the intense workout. The heavy bag now swayed lazily, a mere shadow of the relentless resistance it had offered earlier.


    The sound of the gym door opening pulled his attention, and a familiar crew member stepped in. "Luca," she called, walking briskly toward him. "Gaffer wants to address the entire team. He''s gathered everyone in the main hall to announce some new changes."


    Luca frowned, his curiosity piqued. "New changes?" he asked, grabbing his towel and slinging it around his neck.


    "Yes," the crew member confirmed. "It''s important. We should head there now."


    "Alright, I''m coming," Luca said, finishing the last of his water and expertly tossing the empty bottle into the bin.

 Chapter 132 Strategic Shifts 3

    Still sweating, Luca entered the main hall with the crew member. The main hall was crowded, as all staff of Trampos Racing were present, representing every department crucial to the team''s operations. The management team, the engineering and technical team, the marketing and PR staff, the hospitality and support staff and even the medical crew were all present.Luca wondered what would prompt such a gathering now that Trampos Racing was bigger in staff size. He silently followed the crew member, greeting others before sitting with her and some others.


    Once everyone was settled, Mr. Grant called for order and quiet as he began the meeting, starting with acknowledging the presence of their team''s President and general board. He then went on to greet the entire crew, curtly recognizing every department present.


    After the greetings, Mr. Grant wasted no time and went straight to the subject at hand, announcing why they were all gathered. New and Crucial Changes, he called it, motioning for Ms. Vallotton to join him at the podium. Once she arrived, they began addressing the team together, emphasizing the importance of the moment and explaining that Trampos Racing was about to undergo a significant, perhaps... permanent shift.


    Before delving into the specifics, they took a moment to recognize and commend the team''s efforts under the previous structure. Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton congratulated everyone for their remarkable performance so far this season, highlighting the collective excellence that had propelled Trampos forward ever than before.


    Luca and Ansel received special praise for their impressive achievements on the track, showcasing resilience, skill, and an exceptional ability to adapt to challenges. Their contributions had been pivotal in improving and maintaining Trampos'' competitive standing in the season.


    The pit crew''s fairly outstanding coordination and efficiency during crucial moments also earned recognition. They always tried their best under pressure and their ability to execute flawless pit stops often made the difference between success and setback.


    Equally vital was the engineering team, whose relentless innovation and dedication to maintaining the cars'' peak performance ensured the drivers had the tools they needed to excel. The rest of the support team wasn''t left out, as their behind-the-scenes efforts kept everything running smoothly. From logistics and strategy to data analysis and morale-boosting, everyone had played a part in Trampos'' success, proving their value time and again.


    An applause followed as everyone collectively clapped after their recognition. Mr. Grant resumed once more, continuing with how this would all play out. They were going to inform the team about the Tiered Pursuit strategy and how Luca and Ansel would have definite roles.


    Mr. Grant started with the disadvantages of the Dual Advance strategy so everyone could understand why these changes needed to be done. He also highlighted that the Dual Advance strategy would likely prevent massive points per GP, even though Monte Carlo told a different story. However, it wasn''t just right to keep on using it.


    After Mr. Grant was done outlining the demerits of Trampos'' current structure, Ms. Vallotton followed up, stating the opposite of those demerits and how it would help the team better. These opposites were in turn, the merits of Tiered Pursuit strategy, but Ms. Vallotton took it slowly and steadily.


    The entire Trampos team sat in attentive silence as Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton addressed them. Even when Ms. Vallotton casually mentioned terms like "Player A" and "Player B," the implications didn''t immediately register. It wasn''t until the Team Principals delved deeper into their explanation that the full weight of their announcement became clear that Trampos Racing would officially adopt the Tiered Pursuit strategy moving forward. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Though no one reacted outwardly, the atmosphere shifted. Minds began to churn, and silent reflections passed through the room. For a team deeply ingrained in the nuances of motorsport, the meaning was obvious. The Tiered Pursuit strategy wasn''t a groundbreaking concept, even a preteen motorsport fan would understand. Many teams, particularly at the higher echelons of F1, had employed it with varying degrees of success. Jackson Racing and Bueseno Velocit¨¤ were notorious practitioners, and even Velocit¨¤''s junior F2 team had adopted the model as well.


    At its core, the Tiered Pursuit strategy was simple and direct: Player A takes priority over Player B. In practice, this meant the team''s focus would center around one lead driver, aligning resources, strategies, and decisions to maximize that driver''s success. Player B''s role, while still significant, would inherently become more supportive, ensuring that Player A had the best chance of delivering results.


    This could be seen for example; Max Addams to Dani Walding. Another example; Marcellus Rodnick to Buoso Di Rienzo. Even Davide DiMarco to Jimmy Damgaard was an example, that''s why it was a big surprise Damgaard won the F1 Spanish Grand Prix.


    As Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton continued their address, they reassured the crew that this strategy wasn''t about diminishing anyone''s role. It was about maximizing the team''s potential and adapting to the demands of a fiercely competitive season. Every member of Trampos Racing would still have a critical part to play, and the success of the strategy would depend on their unity and shared determination.


    The room remained silent, but the energy had definitely shifted. Luca himself couldn''t believe what he was hearing. He sat frozen, processing the announcement that would place him as the main driver for Trampos, with his race finishes prioritized.


    Instinctively, his eyes scanned the hall for Ansel, eventually finding him seated quietly in the front row. Luca studied his teammate, searching for any sign of disappointment, frustration, or even subtle resentment¡ªbut Ansel remained calm, his expression unreadable.


    For a moment, Luca considered the implications of this shift in dynamic. They had worked side by side all season, sharing triumphs and setbacks alike. Yet now, this new hierarchy would inevitably create a divide, no matter how professional they tried to remain.


    Luca adjusted in his seat, a knot tightening in his stomach as Mr. Fisher came to address his team.


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    Luca wanted to believe Ansel would take it in stride, but the reality of being demoted to "Player B" wasn''t something any competitive driver could easily accept¡ªnot even him, if he''d be honest.


    Ansel, for his part, sat motionless, his posture upright and composed.


    "I would really love to see how this goes," Mr. Fisher said. "Yet again, if it doesn''t work out for us, we''ll always make new plans. Thank you everyone, for gathering here."


    Shuffling filled the hall as the team rose to their feet to leave. No one really spoke as they took the information calmly to resume their work for the day. Luca himself had no idea on what to do but head to his accommodation to resume his Daily Routine.


    His mind raced about it all as he took his bath, ate a good breakfast and got dressed for training. Luca wondered if Ansel had any strong feelings about the announcement. If he did¡ªhe hid them well more than Luca in fact.


    Silence reigned Trampos Racing that afternoon as the Dallaras were rolled out and everyone donned their gear. Luca met up with Ansel in the dress room, and they actually managed to speak.


    "Look, man. This is definitely not how I thought things¡ª" Luca was saying when he was cut off.


    "Don''t worry, I saw this coming. Get your Veststar on, let''s get used to this new structure," Ansel said stoically.

 Chapter 133 Quiet Distance 2

    After a long day of establishing the new team structure, Mr. Grant finally called it a day for Trampos Racing, allowing all staff and members to retire. Luca sat quietly on the bleachers, gazing at the track as the cleaning crew swept away the remnants of the day''s rubber-burning sessions between him and Ansel.In the stillness, Luca''s thoughts churned. Was this how it was going to be for the next four Grands Prix? Ansel deliberately giving up an advantageous position for him? Was this even right? He wasn''t sure. Today''s training had only deepened his concerns, making it clear his fears might soon become reality.


    They had continuously practiced a drill that was close to being a formation. However, this was different as Ansel was ahead, blocking Victor and Haas who were the competitors. Then Luca was instructed to practice timed overtakes using the DRS zones. Each time Luca passed, Ansel would subtly adjust his position to protect him from potential challenges behind. Another involved Ansel holding off the ''pack of cars'' to allow Luca to break away. Ansel''s car hugged defensive lines through every corner, slowing the pace of those behind him, while Luca focused on pulling a significant lead. Though it was a successful exercise, it left a sour taste in Luca''s mouth. Watching Ansel sacrifice his own position to benefit him felt fundamentally wrong, despite the strategy''s intent.


    They even practiced short drills for easier ''take over'', where Ansel would relinquish his position expertly without both cars coming in contact. Finally, they ended the day with a Pit-Stop Priority. Luca was consistently prioritized for pit stops even when Ansel''s car had higher tire degradation.


    As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the track, Luca''s unease grew. He recalled the look on Ansel''s face throughout the day¡ªcalm, expressionless. And that was what unsettled him the most.


    Luca wasn''t sure he was psychologically ready to be this ''Player A''. As for physically ready, he definitely was. His position above Ansel in the Drivers'' Standings was proof enough.


    Luca Rennick¡ª 126.


    Ansel Hahn¡ª 115.


    That gap was bound to grow, especially now that Luca was expected to finish ahead of Ansel unless extraordinary circumstances put Ansel far ahead. In such cases, Ansel would be allowed to take the win and claim maximum points.


    Luca requested the system to display his Skills. He wanted to know how far he was from getting more better. Winning the championship was the goal, and he needed to work toward it.


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Skills & Techniques: Total Grade - A


    Pitstop Prodigy: 11


    Corner Chopping: 10


    Straightaway Chopping:8


    Spatial Awareness : 6


    Night Mastery: 2


    Grid Launch: 4


    Slipstream Mastery: 3


    Side-by-Side King: 2


    Others (Completed)


    Others (Locked) ]


    "Display completed skills too."


    [Certainly, host.]


    [... listing resumed]


    [Reflexes: 20 (+2)


    Overtaking Skill: 20 (+6)


    Track Awareness: 20 ]


    -------------------------------


    "Four more Grands Prix to go. I''m confident I can win this," Luca murmured to himself, gripping his phone tightly as he rose from the bleacher.


    Suddenly, his phone rang and the caller was Sara. Her message was straightforward but timely as she spoke quickly. She said she had spoken with the agent about the house they were on the verge of finalizing, and the sellers were available for a walkthrough that evening.


    It was an opportunity she thought they shouldn''t miss, and Luca agreed. The house had been a lingering thought in the back of his mind, overshadowed by the demands of the track. Now, they might get to finish it up like Sara predicted.


    Sara informed Luca she''d arrive shortly, so he hurried back to his room to freshen up and throw on some clean clothes.


    Minutes later, Sara parked her car in the headquarters'' lot. Luca dashed out of his room, ran down the steel stairs, and sprinted toward her car. Swinging open the passenger door, he froze. Mallow was already seated there, staring at him like he owned the seat.


    Luca blinked, caught off guard. Why was Mallow here? He glanced at Sara, who was busy applying her lipstick, and then back at Mallow, who smirked and gestured toward the backseat. "I came to see the house too. So, get behind," Mallow sneered.


    Luca scoffed and slid into the backseats. They had to wait a few minutes for Sara to finish before she restarted the car and began driving out of the premises. "When I get my Jaguar. You wouldn''t even sniff the backseat," Luca said once he finally found a comeback.


    Mallow turned, his smirk widening. "Nice one. But first, get the Jaguar¡ªand maybe a real driver''s license. Not just an FIA''s." He laughed.


    The jab hit its mark, and even Sara couldn''t stifle her laughter as the car rolled down the quiet street. Luca bit his lip, momentarily at a loss for a second comeback.


    "Am Fischtal 27,


    Dahlem, 14195 Berlin."


    Luca read out the address Sara gave him the best way he could as an English speaker. He decided he''d have to store it in his memory since it was going to be his home. His own home.


    The house was located away from Mitte, and in Steglitz-Zehlendorf where Dahlem, a district, came into place. Sara explained it was a well-known residential district known for its exclusive villas, quiet streets, lush greenery, embassies and academic institutions including the Free University of Berlin.


    All these features Luca was satisfied with. He could only imagine how the house looked as it took them 20 minutes to arrive, delayed slightly by traffic. As Sara drove into the neighborhood, Luca quickly sensed this was the right place. It looked a lot like a mix of Charlottenburg and Clapham, and Luca loved it. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His anticipation grew as Sara navigated past houses 22 and 23, taking them deeper into the picturesque street. The properties were massive, with demarcations between houses resembling entire estates of their own. These weren''t just fences but included neatly trimmed bushes, patches of greenery, and even channeled streams of a nearby river, all leading up to wrought-iron gates.


    Luca could see the glimmer of his white house poking up from an oak tree as if to reach the bright sun. Eventually, Sara pulled into the property for a closer look.


    "Wow. This is incredible," Luca whispered. "How much is this costing us?"


    "Forty million... ish," Sara replied.


    Damn!


    "Don''t stress. The payments aren''t immediate. We''ll manage it," Mallow added reassuringly.


    The property was marvellous with its complex, sharp angular design and an expansive front yard enclosed by the huge wrought-iron fence. It was also accented with trimmed hedges and a cobblestone driveway that led to a double garage. This was the pinnacle of a modern building!


    The sellers'' agents were already waiting at the entrance, dressed in sleek suits, radiating professionalism. Sara parked, and the trio stepped out, greeted with firm handshakes and polite smiles.


    Luca glanced up at the tall windows, unable to believe he would own this. He was just 18 at that moment, although September would make him plus one. Even though, not many had a multi-million dollar house at such an age. A contemporary property that had classic Berlin architecture was definitely a rare one in the market.


    Who the heck would sell something this perfect? I''d never. It looks brand-new. Was it built this year?


    From Luca''s awed expression, the agents could tell that their young buyer was impressed with the property, and this would be a successful transaction.


    They gestured that they get right away with the walkthrough and survey the house. Stepping through the deep mahogany front door, all of them met the empty living room first. It was so large and white Luca thought it was a mini indoor parking lot. However, the agents said it was the first living room, and a second was upstairs.


    The agents then led them to the kitchen with marble floors. Adjacent to it was a cozy dining area with glass doors that opened onto the backyard patio.


    From there, they explored the ground-floor guest suite, a bright and comfortable room with an en-suite bathroom. Moving upstairs, the group arrived at the second living room, which the agents touted as perfect for a family lounge or entertainment space. Nearby, they entered the master bedroom, boasting a walk-in closet, a luxurious en-suite bathroom with a soaking tub, and a balcony overlooking the lush garden. While everyone admired the view, Luca found himself inspecting the toilet. For reasons he couldn''t explain, he had a thing for good toilets. Fortunately, these weren''t just comfortable¡ªthey were majestic!


    The upper floor also housed two additional bedrooms, each with generous closet space and large windows, and a shared bathroom. Finally, the agents guided them down to the basement, which featured a spacious recreational area, a wine cellar, and a utility room.


    The tour concluded in the backyard. It had a well-maintained lawn, a small fountain and a spot for a pergola-covered seating area. A tranquil place! This was what Luca could possibly need¡ªeven more!


    He leaned against the car, his eyes never leaving the house, as Sara and Mallow finalized their discussion with the agents. The possibilities of summer parties in the backyard or casual evenings with friends played vividly in Luca''s mind. It was hard not to start imagining the life he''d build in this space¡ªinviting Ansel and a few close friends over for a small party once the house was officially his.


    When Sara and Mallow returned, they slid into the car with an air of finality.


    "It''s practically a done deal. Let''s say 90% done," Sara said while fastening her seatbelt. "Next week, it''s yours." She gave one last look at the house. "Just look at this place¡ªit''s perfect."


    Mallow smirked as he turned to Luca. "Think you need a roommate?" he asked, prompting a wave of laughter.


    Sara started the car, waved to the agents, and crawled out of the property. Luca sighed, glancing back as if in love with the house. He remembered his plans once he got it, and this reminded him of Ansel again.


    When they were halfway down the street, Luca requested Sara to drive him to Ansel''s place in Charlottenburg. He said he''d find his way back to headquarters with a private cab later. Mallow hesitated, cautioning against public transport now that Luca''s recognition in Germany was growing. But Luca insisted, and Sara relented, promising to pick him up if needed.


    As they neared Charlottenburg, Luca debated calling Ansel to announce his arrival but decided against it. Once the car stopped, he stepped out, waved to his team, and strolled to Ansel''s property.


    Luca approached the door and knocked softly. When no one answered, he tried again. This time, the doorknob rattled, as though someone on the other side was struggling with it. After a brief pause, the door creaked open, revealing Ansel''s little niece, Emma.


    She looked up at him with bright, curious eyes, then pushed the door wider, clearly recognizing him. Before Luca could say anything, a sharp voice echoed from inside the house.


    "Emma!" Laura''s tone was firm, followed by the hurried sound of footsteps.


    Laura appeared in the doorway moments later, her expression shifting from alarm to relief when she saw Luca standing there. Emma had clearly darted for the door on her own, a habit Laura had to keep in check. Scooping Emma into her arms, Laura greeted Luca warmly.


    "Ansel didn''t mention you were coming," she said, stepping aside to let him in. Read exclusive content at empire


    "That''s because he doesn''t know," Luca replied with a small smile, stepping into the cozy living room. "Could you let him know I''m here?"


    "Of course," Laura said, setting Emma down and heading toward the staircase.


    The living room was quiet, with no cartoon playing on the TV as Luca had seen before. Instead, a few exercise books were scattered across the tiled floor, likely Emma''s homework. Luca glanced at them, amused, while Emma toddled off to her toys.


    After a short while, Laura returned with her fianc¨¦, Ansel, who was wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. Laura quickly gathered Emma''s books and toys, ushering the little girl upstairs to give the men some space.


    "Luca? What are you doing here?"


    "I came to see you, man. That''s just all."


    Ansel leaned on a sofa. "Don''t you have more important deals to get to? I mean, a new contract with the management. I''m surprised you didn''t tell me," Ansel said.


    "I¡ªI was going to. I haven''t even signed at all," Luca replied, unsure if this topic belonged in the conversation. "Are you busy?"


    "Yes, I am," Ansel replied. "But I''ll see how quick I can go, and I''ll get back to you."


    "All right," Luca said with an enthusiastic nod.

 Chapter 134 Quiet Distance 3

    After a week and a half of cultivating this new structure, Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton strongly believed Trampos would perform well in Saudi Arabia, which was just a week away. All F2 teams prepped themselves to resume the championship race weekends and kick off the 9th round of the season, where tensions often heightened. Flights to Riyadh were booked, and equipment was disassembled and packed for transport.Luca firmly believed he was ready. Just one point behind Max Addams, he planned to top the Driver''s Standings for the first time this season. All he had to do was claim pole in the qualifying session and win by starting confidently with Pole Position.


    Regarding the qualifying session accompanying the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, the Federation had set it up, and everyone had been informed prior to their arrival in Riyadh. It was one of the most basic qualifying formats known in motorsport, where all drivers would be on the track simultaneously for 30 minutes. Each driver would aim to set the fastest lap time within that 30-minute margin. The times would determine the starting order for the Feature Race on Saturday.


    Although this qualifying session might resemble the one they participated in at Barcelona, it was significantly different. Why? In this session, all drivers would be on track simultaneously, battling for space and the ideal racing line. This contrasted with Barcelona''s structure, where each driver had the track entirely to themselves during their timed runs, free from traffic and external disruptions.


    Luca was aware of these challenges, which was why he anticipated better drivers in P1¨CP5. These drivers knew how to navigate through slower cars, contend with varying levels of grip on the racing line, and manage the turbulent air from competitors ahead. In Barcelona, most drivers simply sped through the track, unchallenged.


    Luca had his physicality, mentality, and belongings ready for the 9th round. This would mark the beginning of his dominance in Formula 2, as Luca predicted his rise to the top of the Driver''s Standings and, simultaneously, an increase in the gap between his team, Trampos, and Velocit¨¤. Now, Luca felt more than obliged to perform well for Trampos, especially since Mallow had just informed him they''d sign the contract extension in a private meeting as soon as they landed in Riyadh.


    Confidence surged through Luca, and he couldn''t wait to navigate the Riyadh Zenith Circuit. It would be a night race, and like Monte Carlo, the Riyadh Zenith Circuit was a street circuit weaving through the magnificent buildings of Saudi Arabia. It was a new circuit, perhaps explaining why it had no nickname yet. If it were a renowned circuit, Luca was certain the name "Stellar" would be fitting as well because of its golden and white lights that spread through the city. The footage they were sent made the track look more cinematic!


    44 laps. Pretty small. 7 km? Oh, no wonder. The streets must be pretty long.


    Luca pocketed the pictures and slipped his new headphones over his ears, connecting them to his brand-new phone. He cranked up his favorite genre of music, hoping the pounding beats might loosen the knot tightening in his chest¡ªor maybe even his heart.


    But the music did nothing. Luca was heartbroken.


    Heartbreak wasn''t something he experienced often. Maybe that was because he''d learned to expect the worst from people for most of his life, bracing himself for disappointment before it could sting. Yet, it wasn''t the grand betrayals that got to him¡ªit was the little things, the subtle ways things could crack. And he never thought it would come from Ansel, his friend.


    He never thought heartbreak could feel like this¡ªnot for a fellow man. It all began the other day when Luca arrived unannounced at Ansel''s home. Ansel had welcomed him warmly, at least at first. But it was after that when things began to sour.


    Ansel had said he''d be back shortly, needing to finish some work. Luca had expected to see him again in ten minutes or so, maybe fifteen at most. But an hour ticked by. Alone in the silent living room, Luca listened to the distant sound of Emma''s laughter from upstairs, the only thing filling the void.


    He told himself to stay patient. Ansel was probably busier than he''d let on, right? But when the hour stretched into an extra thirty minutes, exhaustion crept in. Luca found himself sinking into the couch, his head heavy with sleep. Confused and unsure what to do, he thought about calling out for Ansel or Laura¡ªbut he didn''t know the house well. It felt like an intrusion to leave the living room. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Finally, after nearly two hours, Ansel returned to find Luca half-asleep on the couch. His explanation was that the work had actually taken longer than expected, but Luca inwardly doubted it. The spark he''d arrived with had dwindled completely, leaving Luca a bag of stuffed emotions and an ache he couldn''t shake.


    Ansel stayed for only five minutes, engaging in a quick exchange of pleasantries, before Luca called Sara to pick him up. Ansel had barely sat down when she arrived, but by then, Luca''s heart felt more ache than his butt.


    "Tell Laura and Emma I said goodbye," Luca said quietly, forcing a polite smile.


    With a heavy heart, he slipped into Sara''s passenger seat under the fading evening sky, the weight of the visit pressing on him. He stayed silent the entire ride home, staring out of the window at a world that seemed quieter than before.


    Remembering it now only made his heart heavier, and hard music was definitely not what his ears wanted at the moment. Yet, Luca disliked somber music, so he simply paused the music player but left his headphones on to avoid any disturbances.


    Luca joined the crew on the first passenger flight. The second one would be boarded the following day, but for now, the drivers and management were prioritized.


    He saw Ansel, greeted him, and even sat with him throughout the ride. Luca wasn''t someone who let small issues create rifts in relationships he had built. He was determined to keep taping the cracks until they were sealed. Stay connected via empire


    The team was informed that after the Grand Prix, whichever team topped the table would visit a renowned go-kart academy in Jeddah. Luca wondered if it was a reward or a responsibility. For him, it was a reward¡ªhe liked kids. Just another simple reason to push harder and win his fourth consecutive Formula Grand Prix.

 Chapter 135 Chasing A Lap

    The first team touched down in Riyadh around 7 PM after a long 6-hour haul on a direct flight. The Saudi Arabian sky had shades of deep orange and purple, making it look both beautiful and surreal.Disembarking quickly from their flight, Trampos was greeted by warm, dry air and escorted by a team of local coordinators. Immigration formalities were seamless as always, expedited through a dedicated VIP section for international sporting delegations.


    Once outside the terminal, sleek, black SUVs awaited them, flanked by security personnel. Saudi Arabia was truly taking things to the next level! The luxurious convoy drove through the well-lit streets of Riyadh, passing towering skyscrapers and intricately lit mosques, showcasing the city''s unique blend of modernity and deep tradition.


    They arrived at their designated accommodation. Just like the royal treatment so far, the place was stunning, reminding Luca of their stay in Bahrain. It was ostentatious and tailored precisely to Trampos'' needs... and wants.


    They checked in efficiently and settled into their pre-arranged rooms. Some immediately left their rooms, heading to the opulent lounge for refreshments, while others, like Luca, began unpacking to prepare for the week ahead.


    As always, Luca stood for a moment to take in his hotel room. Damn! I guess this beats Barcelona''s.


    A king-sized bed stood at the center, flanked by large windows revealing sweeping views of Riyadh''s skyline. Jewel-toned fabrics draped every piece of furniture. "Elegance" seemed like an understatement.


    The luxury even affected Luca''s sleep, leading him to one of the deepest, most uninterrupted slumbers he had ever experienced. He had hoped to dream about the qualifying activity and how he''d drive, but the plush mattress pulled him into infinite unconsciousness.


    The following day was dedicated to regrouping as the second team arrived late in the morning.


    Dressed in casual attire, Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton gathered everyone together to address the team. They reminded them of their objectives: to continue adapting to the new structure and to extract maximum performance in the upcoming race.


    Luca and Ansel were assigned to focus on self-drills, particularly with the simulators provided, to sharpen their skills ahead of the next day''s qualifying session. During the briefing, Mr. Grant announced that both drivers would be free from the Tiered Pursuit strategy during qualifying, allowing Ansel to aim for top positions without restrictions. However, he clarified that the Featured Race would strictly adhere to the new team structure.


    Both periodic drivers acknowledged this with sparse dialogue passed between them. Ansel was determined to use this opportunity and possibly win pole. With this, he might start the race at P1, defend well¡ªif he could¡ªand finish at P1 without having to participate in the Tiered Pursuit strategy he really didn''t like.


    After wrapping up the day, the team returned to their respective hotel rooms.


    ---------------------------------------------


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Host should begin his Daily Routine] Stay tuned for updates on empire


    Luca jumped out of bed after a perfect sleep. Today was Wednesday, qualifying day, and the session was scheduled for the afternoon. He needed to move quickly.


    He sprang into action, starting the day with a quick but satisfying shower before throwing on his usual light workout outfit. Grabbing a protein bar that had been provided to him, he headed down to the hotel gym for a short cardio session and some stretches after his usual exercises. No full session today.


    After working out as quickly as he could, Luca returned to his room to continue his Daily Routine. He took another shower, refreshed and energized, and settled down for breakfast. Eating calmly, he found himself drawn to the vase on the table, decorated with intricate Arabic designs. It was so captivating that he picked it up to examine the patterns more closely, tracing his fingers along its delicate artistry.


    After breakfast, he took a call with Mallow and Sara, who had just landed in Riyadh. During the conversation, Mallow reminded him that the next day they would be meeting with Trampos Racing''s financial representatives¡ªalso in Riyadh¡ªto finalize his contract extension. Luca responded positively, mentally marking it on his calendar.


    It was time to prepare for the drive to the Riyadh Zenith Circuit and get everyone ready for the qualifying session. The crew assembled in the hotel lobby, casually dressed but focused, before boarding the team bus. The drive to the street circuit was quiet, the desert scenery rolling by as the city''s modern architecture loomed on the horizon.


    Upon arrival, the circuit was calm, as expected for a closed qualifying session. A few F2 teams had already arrived, with most still en route. F1''s qualifying would take place the following day.


    Luca and Ansel headed straight to their designated area, suiting up into their Veststars for the drills ahead. Meanwhile, the crew unloaded equipment and set up their workspace, ensuring every detail was meticulously covered. Cars were prepped, simulators fine-tuned, and team discussions flowed efficiently. Luca reviewed his strategy for the day with Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton while Ansel worked on his own plans.


    As the day progressed, the street circuit''s paddocks came alive with the presence of all fifteen F2 teams. Garages bustled with activity, and marshals announced that the qualifying session would soon begin, intensifying the flurry of preparation.


    Luca and Ansel completed suiting up in tense silence. They grabbed their helmets and stepped into the garage. Since this session was strictly individual, there was no team strategy to discuss or orders to give. Still, the engineers offered small tips and insights, hoping to provide their drivers with a slight edge in securing favorable positions for the race.


    All drivers were required to be on the track simultaneously, with their starting order determined alphabetically by their last names. This setup created a temporal grid that leveled the playing field, as each driver had to navigate the same conditions at the same time. This was a fair setup since the objective wasn''t to finish first, but to set the fastest lap.


    Luca and his Dallara were positioned somewhere near the bottom, on the outside of row six. At least, he was before Max Addams. Ansel, however, was upfront, at P2, a very good spot regardless.


    The grid lights flashed on and disappeared after five chimes, signaling the start of the qualifying activity as all drivers bolted out of their boxes, eager to set the fastest lap of the afternoon.


    Luca struggled to find clean air on the crowded street circuit. He pushed his Dallara to its limits, carefully navigating the tight corners and maximizing speed on the straights. His laps were consistent but lacked the explosive edge needed to break into the top positions. With 30 minutes on the clock, he had time to improve, though traffic from slower cars occasionally disrupted his rhythm, forcing him to compromise his lines.


    Ansel, starting with an open track, displayed impressive control and focus. However, as time progressed and more cars crowded the circuit, maintaining high speeds and weaving through the traffic became increasingly difficult. Max Addams, undeterred by the congestion, drove aggressively, carving out space and relentlessly pursuing the fastest lap.


    Though the grandstands of the circuit were empty, spectators perched atop towering Arabian buildings watched the action unfold. The roar of engines echoed through the streets, a symphony of speed and determination. Team members cheered on their drivers from the paddocks as the clock ticked down. By the 15-minute mark, Albert Derstappen had set the benchmark with a blistering lap time of 1:39.803.


    In this qualifying format, drivers were allowed flexibility in their approach. They could make pit stops or even halt on track momentarily, provided they didn''t compromise their opportunity to clock the fastest lap within the 30-minute session. The number of laps completed didn''t matter¡ªwhether Driver A managed 15 laps, Driver C completed 12, or Driver Y only achieved 10 laps. What truly counted was which driver recorded the fastest lap time when the clock ran out.


    [Agility +1]


    At the 22nd minute, Luca''s best time was 1:40.122. Frustrated, he sighed and took his car down the pitlane, becoming one of the few drivers to pit during the session. He felt something was off with the chassis, yet system diagnostics showed no issues, and operational status seemed normal.


    "Let''s just get rid of the tires," he told Mr. Moritz as he approached Trampos'' garage.


    The pit stop was fast and efficient. With fresh tires, Luca re-entered the track, ready to begin his 11th lap. Finding a stretch of open track, free from traffic, he seized the opportunity.


    With laser focus, Luca attacked the circuit, shaving off milliseconds in every sector. His car, now gripping better with the new tires, responded seamlessly, allowing him to corner sharply and accelerate powerfully on the straights. The roar of his engine echoed his determination as he approached the final sector, the clock ticking down.


    Crossing the line, the timer flashed on the screen: 1:39.792¡ªa new fastest lap. The session ended simultaneously, securing Luca the pole position¡­ once again!


    **Yes! Yes! Simply lovely! Simply lovely! Good job, Luca**


    [Activity completed]


    [Fastest Lap: 1:39.792]


    "Yes! I did it. Say it, system."


    [Congratulations, host.]


    [You have acquired a Pole]


    Trampos cheered for Luca as he drove round the circuit once more before peeling into the pitlane. He managed to break Derstappen''s fastest lap score and now, Luca has proved once again why he was just a point below Max Addams in the standings.


    Speaking of Max Addams, this qualifying activity took a whole new turn as the F2 veteran could only get a lap time that put him in P4. And Ansel, he drove as fast as he could with the determination to get the pole, but he managed to get P3 which was quite the upgrade. He was bummed Luca claimed Pole Position again, wondering why he just couldn''t through a qualifying activity.


    By the end of the afternoon, the grid for Saturday''s race was set:


    P1¡ªLuca Rennick


    P2¡ªAlbert Derstappen


    P3¡ªAnsel Hahn sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    P4¡ªMax Addams


    P5¡ªMiles Bellingham


    P6¡ªSean Aaronson


    P7¡ªDani Walding


    P8¡ªPeter De Klerk


    P9¡ªVlad Volyinksi


    P10¡ªOliver Kristensen


    "Good job," Mr. Grant said with a broad smile as Luca ducked into the garage and removed his helmet.


    "Thank you, sir," Luca replied warmly before turning to embrace Mr. Moritz.


    Mr. Grant watched them with a sense of pride. Deep down, he had hoped Luca would secure pole¡ªand the young driver had delivered.

 Chapter 136 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix

    Race Day: Aug. 14, Riyadh Zenith Circuit, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia."...good evening, ladies and gentlemen. The time is ten minutes past six here in the capital, and it''s Formula driving weekend! We had a thrilling Sprint Race earlier today, and now we gear up for the main event¡ª72 laps of high-speed action under the floodlights of the Riyadh Zenith Circuit!"


    "...Luca Rennick starts at pole position AGAIN after an impressive qualifying session where he clinched the fastest lap. Albert Derstappen makes it to the front rows for another Grand Prix. Joining him on the front row is Ansel Hahn, the man to watch in tonight''s race. Both Trampos drivers are in the top three, and both have been in stellar form this season. Tensions between them have been making headlines."


    The countdown clock appeared on all screens, the crowd erupting into cheers as lights out was set to begin in the next hour. Riyadh Zenith Circuit had more grandstands for spectators, unlike a similar street circuit like the Circuit de l''¨¦toile, where almost zero grandstands meant viewership was left to the towering buildings and broadcasting screens.


    Luca could hear the commentators mentioning his name, comparing his chances with other drivers in the upcoming race. Yet here he was, out on the track, not in his Dallara, but in a Veststar alone, an unsecured one at that. His Velcro straps hung loose, and his gloves were nowhere in sight. What could possibly keep him out here when the race was set to begin in less than an hour? Luca was spending time with the young go-kart academics.


    Fourteen in number, the kids were being hailed as mascots for the race. Their colorful go-karts, adorned with decals and miniature spoilers, had been rolled out onto the grid. The grandstands watched in amusement as the marshals joined in the fun, showing the children how to make donuts on the asphalt. The screech of tiny tires blended with the laughter of the kids, their faces glowing with joy and awe as they shared the same track where professional F2 racers would soon battle it out.


    Luca wasn''t the only driver out; three others had come to play with the kids too, but none of them were from a top-table team like him.


    "Do you think you can win from pole?" one of the older kids asked, his wide eyes peering up at Luca from the snug cockpit of his go-kart. A neatly wrapped turban adorned the boy''s head, marking him as a native. In fact, all the mascots¡ªfourteen in total¡ªwere locals, chosen to represent their nation on race day.


    Luca rubbed his hands together against the biting chill of the evening air. The contrast between Saudi Arabia''s scorching daytime heat and its freezing desert nights never failed to catch him off guard. The glow from the streetlights and floodlights seemed to intensify the cold, his breath curling visibly in the air as he exhaled. "Yes, I''m really confident," Luca replied, offering the boy a reassuring smile. "But tell me, who do you think I should watch out for? Give me some insider tips."


    The boy didn''t hesitate. "Max Addams. He''s really fast and takes corners better than anyone¡ªexcept you. You''re the best at corners."


    "Max, huh? I know Max. He''s very good. Anyone else?"


    "Bellingham! That''s if he gets close enough. You should also look out for Mr. Ansel. I watched the last Grand Prix, and I was concerned about the contacts."


    Luca nodded, recalling Mandalora himself. Well, now they had a strategy where he and Ansel wouldn''t have to battle on the track, so that was a good thing.


    "...But you take corners faster, so I''d say Max is your real rival," the boy continued, swiftly executing a donut.


    "Thanks for the heads-up," Luca said, though his mind drifted as the boy continued speaking. The others drove behind him over the grid boxes, the crowd admiring the adorableness.


    Luca felt this race would be a special one, a race he would fight for Trampos, especially now that he had extended his contract with the team. Trampos deserved victory, and he was determined to deliver.


    [Status: 6 year contract


    Salary: $636,000


    Team: Trampos Racing ]


    A marshal approached from Luca''s side, clearing his throat. "We''re on the clock, mate. They''ll be leaving in five. You still staying?"


    "No, no. I''ll get to my team now," Luca replied. He turned to the children, waving them off and fist-bumping those closest to him before jogging back to Trampos'' garage.


    As Luca reached the garage, the overhead commentary captured the moment.


    "And there goes Luca Rennick, back into his garage. A growing champion for Trampos and the country at large. Three Grands Prix to his name¡ªcan the 18-year-old add another tonight? Thirty minutes till lights out for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!"


    Once Luca entered the garage, he bumped into McCauley, who had been looking for him. "And where have you been? Thirty minutes left, mate."


    "Press," Luca lied, ducking and weaving his way through to get fully dressed and ready.


    "With close walls, overtaking opportunities are very limited," Mr. Moritz began as Luca fixed his Velcro and adjusted the essential parts of his racing suit. "Since you have pole, you have to start strong. Aggression will help you secure a good position, but a single mistake can ruin your race. Focus on holding position and staying out of trouble. Let the chaos around you work in your favor."


    "Noted," Luca replied, turning to Mr. Colt as if expecting more advice from him too.


    As expected, Mr. Colt had his own insights. His tips focused on pit strategy and tire management, explaining that Luca might only need one pit stop if he could manage his tires and control the traffic rather than get caught in it. Additionally, he advised Luca to preserve his tires as much as possible¡ªthough he could be aggressive early on, over-pushing might hurt him later.


    Ansel, seated in the dressing room as well, listened closely to the advice given to Luca, even though he was in his own quiet ritual. Mr. Moritz and Mr. Colt had already finished addressing him, but their instructions hadn''t been as long or as detailed as what they were giving Luca.


    Ansel understood that Luca was now Player A, but even so...


    He sighed as Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton entered to recap the same things they''d been saying all week. Rising to his feet, he grabbed his balaclava, then paused, staring at the #43 on his helmet before picking it up and walking grudgingly toward the group.


    "...Five minutes till lights out, and the drivers will soon roll their cars to the grid to begin this Grand Prix! The world of Formula 2 holds its breath¡ªMax Addams is just one point ahead of Luca Rennick. The Team Standings show a significant points difference! This Grand Prix might just be all about the drivers!"


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Dallara (F2 04)]


    Luca gripped his wheel tighter as he cruised his single-seater into the pole box. The marshals nodded, then moved toward Derstappen to wave him into place.


    Once all drivers had their Dallaras neatly positioned in the grid boxes, the starting lights began their countdown. Engines roared to life as every driver revved for power, the tension thickening with every passing millisecond.


    **Alright, Luca. You''ll control the pace, stay ahead, and manage your car**


    "Got it," Luca replied. "I''ll do my best to finish with the lead." I''ll do my best.


    **Han, you''re in P3. Capitalize on any chance, but don''t overcommit. Let''s get the team in prime positions**


    **Understood** Ansel replied.


    "...Five lights on... engines revving to the limit... and¡ª"


    "...Lights out! We are racing in Riyadh!"


    Luca, Derstappen, and Ansel led the pack into the golden-lit street track, kicking off the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Mr. Grant settled calmly in his viewing post with Ms. Vallotton, who handed him a small platter of fresh dates. Their rich sweetness paired perfectly with the bitterness of the Arabic coffee she poured into a cup for him.


    "Thank you," Mr. Grant said, taking a short sip.


    "Anytime," Ms. Vallotton replied, crossing her legs and folding her arms as her gaze fell on the screens where Luca had just begun the third lap, still holding P1.


    Both the Team Principal and his vice were very confident about today''s results, but they were still concerned because this was the first time their drivers were executing the Tiered Pursuit strategy on a competitive stage and not in drills and training. Even Haas and Victor, who have finally began to drive in Sprint Races, still worked with Dual Advance strategy in Sprint Races, so this was the first time spectators would likely spot subtle movements that''d automatically explain Luca was now of priory to Trampos¡ªA¡ªover Ansel¡ªB.


    "WOOOOOHH!" The grandstands erupted, shattering the rhythmic roar of engines in the cool desert night. The uproar was deafening¡ªbeing a street circuit, the sound reverberated off the towering modern structures. Even the crisp night air seemed to carry the noise further, alerting the city that two F2 drivers had just made contact.


    "...Incredible scenes! Sean Aaronson and Miles Bellingham have just kissed tires through the chicane, making slight contact that sent both spinning dangerously close to the barriers! That could''ve ended in disaster, but they''ve managed to regain control..."


    "Ohh... how I''d love for it to have ended much worse," Ms. Vallotton whispered, sipping her coffee.


    "...Aaronson is the first to recover, his quick reflexes putting him back into motion, while Bellingham is still struggling to straighten out! Aaronson''s already moving, and he''s not wasting any time reclaiming lost ground!"


    "...Sean Aaronson in P5, Miles Bellingham, P6...!"


    [5th Lap]


    Zip! Zip! Zip! The Dallaras, each adorned in vibrant colors, streaked past the walls and steel barriers that separated the track from the grandstands. The crowd roared for their favorites. Though Saudi Arabia''s attendance didn''t feature many foreign fans who had flown in, the grandstands were still packed¡ªso were the buildings overlooking the street circuit.


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant or reduce¡ªand not in your favor.]


    [2nd Position is closing in]


    [Host has unlocked Skills to disclose an opponent]


    [6th Lap]


    "... and Derstappen is looking aggressive! He''s approaching to squeeze in!"


    Luca barreled down the straight as Albert Derstappen capitalized on his slipstream, lining up alongside him before they approached Turn 1, which immediately cut into Turn 2.


    "Give me a recap of Side-by-Side King. I tried chopping him off, but it didn''t work."


    [Retrieving Data on Side-by-side King...]


    [...Data Retrieved]


    [Summarized execution of Side-by-side King:


    Maintain a steady line and control during close battles by using precise braking and throttle. Position yourself strategically to pressure your rival or defend effectively, while anticipating their movements to time your attacks or blocks. By doing this, host could successfully execute Side-by-Side King. ] Find exclusive stories on empire


    "Okay. Let me try and get my first point for it."


    **Albert Derstappen''s momentum looks frightening. Can you handle him? If not, you could ease off. You''re heading for 5-8¡ªthe walls are too tight, not to mention the tunnels**


    "I can handle him," Luca replied, gripping his wheel tighter as Derstappen pulled alongside him. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Both cars flashed their red rear lights at Ansel, who trailed just two seconds behind. They cut around a golden-lit skyscraper, heading toward the tunnels. Luca''s instincts for Side-by-Side King were still raw, but they were there¡ªhe could try. Derstappen''s nose edged forward, both engines screaming into the night.


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 80%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 185 km/h]


    "Nice."


    [3rd Position closing in]


    "That should be Ansel. I can attempt on Derstappen."


    [Side-by-side King +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    "C''mon, I did it."


    "...Luca Rennick is holding his ground brilliantly against Derstappen! They''re nose-to-nose, matching each other''s pace as they tear through the tunnels. Rennick seems unfazed by the pressure, using every bit of the track to defend his position. His control is impeccable as he edges Derstappen closer to the wall without making contact, forcing the Dutchman to back off slightly."


    "...And now Rennick takes the lead through the tunnel exit! He''s dominating this side-by-side battle, showing incredible composure and skill under pressure. Derstappen will need to regroup if he wants to reclaim that position!"


    **Very good pressure on him**


    [3rd Position closing in]


    Ansel is actually getting really close, Luca mused as temporal darkness swallowed him and Derstappen before they burst from the tunnel, darting into Turn 7, exposing their cars to the crowd.


    Luca''s front tires twitched, gripping the asphalt tightly as the g-force slammed against him and his car like a vice. He tilted his wheel sharply, quickly obeying Turn 7''s curvature. Derstappen, momentarily relegated behind him, seized the very lane Luca had left open for his drift.


    [Calculating host drift exit...]


    [.... successfully calculated]


    "Thanks," Luca whispered as his car wobbled back into place, his tires burning from the push.


    Derstappen weaved out, granting Luca some space, cussing under his breath. He hadn''t wanted to, but he had no choice. With their momentum slightly reduced, both now lunged toward Turn 8, sticking to the inside lane as they rounded yet another towering skyscraper.


    [3rd Position has closed in]


    "...Stealthily, Ansel Hahn works tirelessly in Derstappen''s slipstream. He''s got the momentum¡ªthe power¡ªhe''s alongside Luca Rennick now!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s eyes widened as a fellow red-and-black Dallara surged past both him and Derstappen from the outside lane, slicing ahead just as the next straight below a bridge unfolded.


    [2nd Position.]


    "...Ansel Hahn leads this Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!"

 Chapter 137 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix 2: Relinquished

    "...for the first time since the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, Ansel Hahn of Trampos Racing leads the race for seven laps as they weave through the night!""...we can see Albert Derstappen slowly gaining ground. In a matter of time, I believe Hahn will have to put his defensive skills to the test, and we haven''t seen much of that all season!"


    "...Sean Aaronson in P5, Max Addams in P6!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    **Aaronson just overtook Max Addams! I can''t believe it myself!**


    Luca bit his lip harshly, glancing at his side mirrors to catch a glimpse of Miles'' car gliding into the dark tunnel before emerging into the night breeze seconds later. He wondered what was wrong with Max Addams in this race. By all expectations, Max should have been the one behind him at this moment, not Miles.


    The two had locked horns back on Lap 11, executing one of the best wheel-to-wheel battles of the race. To everyone''s surprise, Miles had come out on top, besting Max Addams in a remarkable display of skill. Yet, only three laps later, the duel between Max and Aaronson had completely outshone Max''s earlier fight with Miles. It was more dramatic, more cinematic, and dangerously close¡ªboth cars barely avoiding a race-ending collision. Once again, Max Addams was pushed further down the leaderboard.


    Ansel thundered past the grid, the pitlane, and the garages, kicking off Lap 15.


    [15th Lap]


    Luca didn''t even want to think about how Derstappen had overtaken him so effortlessly¡ªnot long after Ansel''s brilliant double overtake. But what truly unsettled him was a realization that had been creeping up on him for a while now.


    Every time Ansel did something remarkable¡ªwhether in strategy, overtakes, or sheer racecraft¡ªLuca found himself zoning out. It wasn''t a conscious decision; it just happened. A pattern he couldn''t ignore, yet one he had no explanation for. Why did he respond this way? Why did his focus waver whenever Ansel left his mark on any race?


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 300 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 70% (Good)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 90,000m


    -Time: 26 min.]


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...] Find exclusive stories on empire


    [4th Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [4th Position is 3 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant]


    [Slipstream Mastery +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    [Endurance +1]


    Derstappen''s Dallara was now within touching distance, and Luca believed he had a chance to make a move before Miles disrupted the rhythm of their tightly packed chase, where all cars sped forward at nearly the same pace.


    [400m Straightaway Ahead]


    Street circuits rarely feature straightaways, but when they do, these sections are notably shorter than those on full courses. The limited length of these straightaways always created intense urgency among drivers. With such little time to exploit, every racer becomes eager to capitalize, knowing that a well-timed maneuver here could mean the difference between gaining or losing a crucial position.


    Luca''s eyes flickered to the DRS sign beside the track as they opened up into a zoom under the Arabian bridge. The sound of a chopping helicopter loomed above, louder than before.


    Luca was in the perfect position for DRS¡ªso was Miles, who had spotted the signboard too. Both drivers activated DRS on the straight, their rear wings flattening to gain every possible ounce of speed.


    [DRS Engaged]


    Derstappen, however, wasn''t in DRS range of Ansel, who was nearing the end of the straightaway. Taking full advantage, Luca and Miles, both with DRS engaged, slotted in on either side of Derstappen, forming a tightly packed three-wide drag race down the stretch.


    Luca did his best to work with Side-by-Side King, attempting to stay in control of the situation. But it was called Side-by-Side King for a reason¡ªnot Side-by-Side-by-Side King. Luca had no control over Miles, and the influence of his skill could only affect Derstappen as their engines screamed in unison, darting down the straight.


    Unfortunately, Luca was on the left, and the next turn¡ªback into the city¡ªwas a right-hander, naturally favoring Miles. Luca could have gone for a daring drift-in maneuver, but with three cars running so close together, his trajectory would surely intersect with Derstappen''s.


    Powerless, Luca watched as Miles claimed P2.


    However, Luca still managed to squeeze ahead of Derstappen, relegating him to P4 instead.


    "...Miles Bellingham in P2, Albert Derstappen in P4...!"


    "WOOOOOHH!" A thunderous roar erupted from the grandstands, echoing through the night sky and rippling across the waters beneath the bridge.


    **Derst is not too far behind. He''s going to try again**


    [4th Position closing in]


    [5th Position closing in]


    "Now who''s that?"


    **Aaronson. He''s coming in fast from the straight. So is Addams. You guys are gonna be clustered by the next lap. Stay focused**


    "...the battle for the top three isn''t over as Derstappen makes an attempt before the approaching chicane. Both cars are alongside each other now, but they might have to worry about Aaronson! Aaronson is approaching FAST!"


    **Ease off**


    "Alright. Copy."


    [4th Position]


    "...Luca Rennick drops to P4, he''s in Aaronson''s jaws now!"


    Derstappen''s car fishtailed violently in front of Luca. He clearly hadn''t expected Luca to back out of the battle so suddenly, and his momentum carried him dangerously close to the street walls, nearly resulting in disaster.


    Aaronson, who was now within striking distance, darted to the right side of the track, snatching P3.


    Luca quickly regained speed and tailed him, while Derstappen recollected his chassis. The three cars tilted their wheels in perfect sync as they entered Street Turn 10, which led directly into a tunnel.


    Max Addams, having just cleared the bridge straight and the next turn, spotted their red rear lights vanishing into the fourth sector''s tunnel chicanes.


    The moment they reached the tunnel''s midpoint, the interior lights flickered sporadically.


    For five seconds, the TV cameras captured nothing.


    Nothing but darkness.


    Inside, the deafening roar of the engines was amplified by the enclosed space.


    Derstappen panicked¡ªhe couldn''t see a thing and feared slamming into his rivals.


    Aaronson, on the other hand, remained fearless. He couldn''t see either, but he was convinced he would emerge victorious.


    Luca, however, tapped into a small fraction of his Night Mastery skill.


    His vision began to adjust to the dim surroundings¡ªfaint shadows, fleeting reflections on the tunnel walls, distorted yet readable. He had a good sense of clarity in the darkness when compared to his rivals.


    It wasn''t perfect. But it was just enough.


    Luca gulped. "What a skill," he whispered, gripping the wheel tightly.


    His eyes caught Aaronson''s headlights reflecting against the tunnel wall.


    That told him Aaronson was ahead.


    And when the tunnel lights flickered back on for the final second, Luca made his move.


    Aaronson realized it too late.


    The tunnel''s exit flooded the track with artificial light, and Luca blasted out into the open air with fierce determination.


    "...Luca Rennick claims P3 in the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Night Mastery +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    Aaronson and Derstappen began the clash for P4 behind him, giving Luca precious time to pick up the pace through the final turns and onto the home straight, launching into Lap 16.


    **You''re clear, Luca. That was masterful. Keep pushing.**


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Luca couldn''t really see who was in P2, but he could see the large, holographic number 2 hovering over the skyline like a ghostly marker. He asked Mr. Moritz and he said it was Miles. As aggressive as Miles was, Ansel might be in big trouble.


    **He''s right on Han''s gearbox, pressuring him through every sector¡ªespecially in the braking zones. Ansel''s trying to defend, but you know how relentless Bellingham can get. He''s outpaced Han multiple times this season**


    Though Luca was supposed to lead Trampos, keeping Ansel in P1 took precedence now. He was determined to make sure it happened.


    Luca pushed harder, surging forward alone down the next straight. His Dallara responded with razor-sharp precision as he approached the middle section''s technical turns, which snaked through the city like a coiled serpent. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªhe could get close enough to disrupt Miles'' assault on Ansel and help his teammate hold the lead.


    But before he could even hope, Moritz delivered an update.


    **Bellingham has him by the throat, Luca. The crowd''s reaction says it all**


    The roar of the grandstands confirmed it.


    "What''s their delta?"


    **Less than half a second** Moritz replied. **Bellingham is going to try something soon. Probably into the next DRS zone. If Ansel doesn''t keep it clean, he''ll lose it. Focus on staying consistent, Luca. Their fight might open a window for you.**


    "Ah, come on, man, you can hold ''em," Luca whispered, leaning into the turn as his car hugged the apex. Emerging from the curve, he finally got a clear view of the Dallaras ahead, their glowing brake lights piercing the desert night.


    There, he saw Ansel''s car aggressively weaving on the straight, blocking every angle Miles tried to exploit.


    Luca suddenly wished he hadn''t gotten such a clear view as he witnessed Miles dive aggressively into the inside line at the next corner, taking the gap sharply and quickly. Whereas, Ansel''s car seemed slow in response. He tried to correct, but the huge number 2 switched to his chassis and Miles upheld number one, surging ahead.


    "...Miles Bellingham leads the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!"


    "....Miles Bellingham in P1!"


    "... WOOOOOHH!"


    "...Ansel Hahn in P2!"


    "... WOOOOOHH!"


    **I freaking had him** Ansel muttered over the radio, repeating, **I just freaking had him**


    **More than 30 Laps to go. Relax, stay focused** Mr. Moritz assured, though he was bummed that Ansel couldn''t defeat Miles Bellingham for like the fourth time now they''d gone head on.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Luca''s heart tightened, not from Ansel''s P1 loss, but the fact that Ansel was before him now¡ª2 seconds away. He cleared his throat to the radio, trying to remind them of his presence.


    Mr. Moritz cleared his throat too. There was an elephant in the room, and the tension was growing with each passing second as they zoomed into the next tunnel.


    Luca knew what was coming. Mr. Moritz knew. And Ansel was starting to figure it out too. The eerie silence seemed to press down on all of them, broken only by the hum of engines reverberating off the tunnel walls. Ansel''s side mirror caught the gleam of red and black¡ªthe unmistakable colors of Luca''s Dallara creeping closer.


    According to their new strategy, in situations like this, where Player A was directly behind Player B. It was required of Player B to deliberately relinquish his position to Player A no matter the circumstances. And right at this moment, Luca was right behind Ansel.


    Player A was behind Player B. The hallmark of Tiered Pursuit strategy was supposed to be executed right now, and Mr. Grant clenched his jaw as his drivers stalled.


    **Han?** Mr. Moritz''s cautious voice slowly broke through the static. **You''re supposed to give up P2 for Luca**


    Ansel cursed under his breath. Damn it.


    Luca cursed under his breath. Damn it.


    They both hated this.


    But there was no way out.


    The Team Principals¡ªMr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton¡ªwere watching.


    Disobeying wasn''t an option.


    After a long, tense silence, Ansel''s voice finally came through. Low. Unenthusiastic. "OK."


    Slowly, Ansel began to adjust his chassis, making the necessary movements to let Luca through. It wasn''t dramatic, but every small shift in his Dallara felt deliberate, measured, and heavy with reluctance.


    Luca spotted the changes immediately. His grip on the wheel tightened, his heart pounding, a lump forming in his throat.


    This wasn''t how he wanted it.


    Not like this.


    He steadied himself, easing into the gap Ansel created just like they had practiced in training. As they approached the next corner, Luca crossed ahead, the two cars gliding past each other with a precision born of their shared understanding.


    **P2 is yours, Luca** Ansel muttered over the radio.


    [2nd Position]


    "Thanks, man," Luca replied quietly, though the words felt hollow.


    "WOOOOOHH!". "WOOOOOHH!" "WOOOOOHH!"


    **Good one, boys**


    "¡­AND WHAT JUST HAPPENED IN THIS F2 SAUDI ARABIAN GRAND PRIX?! The crowd can''t believe it! I CAN''T BELIEVE IT, JON!"


    "...ANSEL HAHN HAS JUST RELINQUISHED P2 TO HIS TEAMMATE, LUCA RENNICK, IN WHAT APPEARS TO BE A STRICT ENFORCEMENT OF TEAM ORDERS! ABSOLUTELY SHOCKING!"


    "WOOOOOHH!" "WOOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s heart was still hammering.


    Why were they cheering so loudly?


    Did they support what had just happened?


    Or did they hate it?


    "...Shocking indeed, Steve. You can see the disbelief rippling through the stands, and I don''t think Ansel himself is too happy about it! Look at his body language in the cockpit¡ªhe''s clearly frustrated!"


    "...and who can blame him?! Hahn was holding off Miles Bellingham with masterful defensive driving earlier! Losing P1 to Bellingham was one thing¡ªbut NOW to give up P2 under team orders? That''s GOT to sting!"


    "¡­WHEN DID TRAMPOS HAVE SUCH TEAM ORDERS?!"


    Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton nodded softly as Luca surged ahead of Ansel, who regained momentum after feathering his throttle. Both drivers had executed it well, and now, Luca¡ªPlayer A¡ªwas now deemed to be a better driver in prime position to chase Miles down. But at what cost to team morale? Would this keep happening all over again?


    Even Mr. Lugo, Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr Team Principal was astonished at what just happened. He was out on the pitlane, watching the race upclose for himself as the cars zipped by, and witnessing Trampos Racing execute something like that was strangely funny while also disturbing.


    He shook his head and returned to his paddock, the crowd roaring in disbelief.

 Chapter 138 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix 3

    [22nd Lap][DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 260 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 55% (Fair) Find adventures on empire


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 132,000m


    -Time: 40 min.]


    After forty minutes of driving through the Riyadh Zenith Circuit in the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, Luca finally considered an immediate pit stop, momentarily pausing his pursuit of Miles'' P1.


    Similarly, all thirty drivers began adjusting their cars, communicating with their engineers and pit crews to ensure seamless stops.


    "...After 22 arduous laps here at the Riyadh Zenith Circuit, we''re finally seeing a flurry of pit stops as drivers respond to tire degradation and fuel strategies. Every single car might be heading into the pits in these crucial moments¡ªoh! Three drivers are already barreling down the pit lane toward their pit boxes. Miles Bellingham holds the lead, and Squadra Corse Jnr has begun moving in their garages..."


    "...Certainly, when he pits, he could lose that lead, with Rennick following close behind."


    "...Look at this! Bellingham AND Rennick are calling for the pit. We could see a train of cars heading toward the pit lane!"


    **You''ll box before Han, okay?**


    "Alright, copy," Luca confirmed, his focus unwavering as he tailed Miles through the final turns, the faint glow of the leader''s rear lights slicing through the dimly lit circuit.


    He couldn''t help but wonder how it would play out in the pits. If both he and Miles stopped simultaneously, it would be a race not just on the track, but in the pitlane¡ªa test of efficiency and precision. Luca knew that whoever emerged first would likely hold P2, with Ansel inevitably taking P1 since his pitstop was scheduled for the following lap.


    Speaking of Ansel, Luca had remained composed while trailing Miles, mainly because Ansel was the car behind him. And according to strategy, Ansel wasn''t allowed to make any impactful moves against Luca¡ªno overtakes, no unnecessary pressure. So, Luca was safe in P2 and could fully concentrate on chasing P1, as long as Ansel stayed put.


    As they approached the pit lane entry, the glowing number "1" on Miles'' car vanished as he committed to the stop. Miles smoothly peeled into the brightly lit pit lane, his car''s rear lights blinking under the floodlights before disappearing into his box.


    Luca followed instinctively, adjusting his chassis and preparing to dive in after him. His tires screeched faintly against the asphalt as he steered toward the pit lane entry.


    **No, stay out! We''re not ready!**


    What?


    Luca reacted instantly, jerking the wheel back onto the main track. His tires protested with a violent wobble, but he fought to regain control, gripping the wheel tightly as he barreled into Turn 1.


    [Agility +1] Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What the heck happened?"


    **Sorry, mate. The crew wasn''t in position. Next lap, next lap. Han will pit the lap after that**


    Ah, fuck it, Luca thought bitterly.


    "...Oof, there must''ve been some miscommunication in the Trampos garage! Luca Rennick was all set to enter the pitlane but had to swerve back onto the track at the last moment! That''s going to cost him valuable seconds, especially with Miles Bellingham already in for his stop!"


    [1st Position]


    Luca shook his head. He wasn''t supposed to be in P1¡ªnot yet. If he had pitted alongside Miles, he could have leveraged his Pitstop Prodigy advantage to leave the pitlane first, comfortably retaining P2. Then, when Ansel boxed on the next lap, Luca would have taken P1 for good, a position he could defend with fresh tires and a clear track.


    Now, however, the strategy was in jeopardy. Max, currently out of sync with their pitstop plan, would likely inherit P1 as soon as both Luca and Ansel pitted.


    "Oh! Goddamit!" Luca muttered, a short wave of frustration moving through him. He channeled the frustration to his wheel by gripping it tighter.


    Pit uncoordination was a common occurrence in motorsport, something Luca had learned to adapt to over time. It was part of the chaos that defined racing, but even so, it didn''t make the experience any less frustrating. He recalled watching an F1 Grand Prix that took place years ago where a similar misstep had caused utter dismay for Jackson Racing star, Marcellus Rodnick.


    Rodnick was leading in a certain Monaco Grand Prix when the whole thing fumbled his lead, prompting him to pound his wheel in frustration afterwards.


    "...Max Addams in P4!"


    "...capitalizing from an early pit, he outpaces Aaronson and Derstappen!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    **Addams is behind Miles now. Big big problem**


    Damn! How did he get so close?! Now that''s the Max Addams I know, Luca thought, leading the pack into the 23rd lap.


    [23rd Lap]


    The next lap arrived, and Luca braced himself, knowing he''d likely lose P1. But what about P2? Would Max be able to capitalize on the gaps left by his and Ansel''s pit stops?


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    If Ansel was just a second behind him, then Miles was likely two or three seconds behind Ansel. Factoring in cold tires after the pit stop, Luca estimated that a four-second buffer might suffice, placing Miles approximately five seconds behind him¡ªand Max, perhaps seven or eight seconds further back.


    Perhaps Pitstop Prodigy would render all these calculations irrelevant, shaving precious seconds off his stop and giving him the edge he needed.


    **Now, we''re ready**


    "Okay," Luca responded firmly, preparing for the entry.


    "...and finally, it seems like Trampos has sorted out their coordination. Luca Rennick is diving into the pits!"


    As soon as Luca boxed, Ansel surged into P1 as planned. For the 4.1 seconds Luca sat in the pit box, allowing his team to restore his car''s Operational Status from 50%, he could feel the tension build as his rivals zipped past. First, Ansel flew by, maintaining momentum. Seconds later, Miles followed¡ªthough with slightly less speed.


    **Clear**


    And now, Max Addams was barreling down the stretch toward Street Turn 1¡ªLuca, meanwhile, was just leaving the pit lane.


    [Operational Status: 95%]


    "...And after dropping to P6, the reigning champion is climbing the leaderboard with ferocity! He''s charging straight toward Rennick, who''s just exiting the pits¡ªoh my! The battle for the top three is about to ignite!"


    [Trajectory Assessment: Pitlane disadvantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 3rd Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 60% throttle; maintain intersection apex trajectory. Anticipate 3rd Position''s outside pressure.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 3rd Position). Adjust for slight traction loss at exit to regain position.]


    [3rd Position]


    "...Luca Rennick slots in first for P3¡ªbut it''s not over! Max Addams moves to the right for Turn 2!"


    Luca''s tires screeched as he accelerated through Turn 2, holding a defensive line to block Max''s aggressive move on the inside. The Dallara twitched slightly under pressure, but Luca maintained control, forcing Max to pull back and reposition for the next corner.


    Max stayed close, leveraging his momentum through Turn 3, where the track narrowed, putting intense pressure on Luca''s rear wing. The champion darted to the left, searching for a gap, but Luca responded by tightening his line, leaving no space for an overtake.


    [4th Position closing in]


    Approaching Turn 4, Luca attempted Corner Chopping, but Max was freaking too resilient¡ªeven though Luca''s timing was near-perfect. Max tried again, this time diving to the outside line, and that was when Luca caught him in his trap.


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    "What''s wrong with him?!" Max thundered in his helmet as Luca''s red brake lights flashed abruptly, cutting off his momentum like a slice of cake. "I''m not crashing in another race!"


    With a very well-executed Corner Chopping, Luca managed to pull ahead by a fraction, controlling his exit speed and roaring out of Turn 4 in triumph, securing P3.


    [You are picking up speed]


    Down the short straight that was once a pedestrian road, Luca cut into Turn 5, maneuvering around the tallest skyscraper in sight. Little did he know, Max had remained well within DRS range when Luca chopped him off, and now, he was closing the gap fast.


    Without hesitation, Max attempted again, and Velocit¨¤ Jnr supporters roared for his victory this time around. Luca heard the cheers¡ªand he was ready to disappoint them. The 25th lap would soon begin, marking three laps into the second half of tonight''s 44-lap race. Luca wasn''t willing to drop down the leaderboard. Every action taken with his chassis, every maneuver supported by his SomberCore, now mattered more than ever.


    **Maintaining ground through the tunnels. Emerge not only first, but with stability**


    The first tunnel''s dim glow engulfed them as Luca darted into the entrance, his focus unshaken despite Max looming large in his mirrors. But once they were fully inside, the tunnel lights flickered, plunging them into moments of darkness.


    For a brief stretch, they straightened out within the tunnel, and Max capitalized on his full awareness of Luca''s position, activating DRS with precision and efficiency. His car surged forward, pulling alongside Luca, the whine of his SomberCore exerting extra energy, its reverberations bouncing off the tunnel walls.


    "Ah. No, no, no," Luca whispered, instinctively preparing to rule their duel with Side-by-side King¡ªbut Max didn''t even give him a chance.


    "¡­Max Addams takes P3!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    [4th Position]


    Luca felt the sting of the overtake but refused to back down. He weaved aggressively, staying tight on Max''s rear through the narrowing confines of the tunnel, rounding its last turns as the exit loomed ahead, spilling brighter lights onto the track.


    Max burst out first, clearing the next turns before they reached the fourth straight¡ªunder the bridge and above the waters.


    "DRS, yeah?"


    "Yes!" Luca replied, itching for payback.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Slipstream Mastery +1]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host]


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    [DRS Engaged]


    "¡­Luca Rennick is going all out to take back P3! It''s impossible for Max Addams to maintain it! Rennick is right beside him again! Down the bridge! They go into the third sector!"


    [Strength +1]


    Max Addams'' hands trembled on the wheel. His focus faltered¡ªnot from a lack of skill, but from disbelief. The Luca Rennick he had dismissed at the start of the season was now matching him stride for stride. A single point separated them in the standings, yet here they were, fighting on equal footing. He couldn''t believe a new challenger had arrived in Formula 2. How did this even come to be?!


    "This can''t be real," Max muttered under his breath, catching a glimpse of Luca''s car from the corner of his eye.


    "¡­AND THERE IT IS! Luca Rennick takes the inside line into Turn 13! Max Addams has no answer for this! Down the slope into Turn 14, Rennick has the advantage¡ªAND HE RETAKES P3!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    **Good job!**


    [4th Position closing in]


    Max Addams wasn''t letting this slide. He stayed glued to Luca''s rear, chasing relentlessly as they darted into the second tunnel.


    "¡­Max Addams isn''t giving up! He''s in the slipstream, closing in, waiting for the perfect moment to strike! Rennick needs to stay flawless here¡ªone mistake, and Addams will pounce! AND NOW INTO THE SECOND TUNNEL THEY GO! Luca Rennick holds onto P3!"


    [Host has unlocked Skills to adapt to reduced visibility in artificial lighting]


    The tunnel lights were dimmer than usual, the darkness amplifying the roaring echoes of their SomberCores as they pushed full throttle. The flickering lights briefly illuminated the tunnel''s arrowed signs¡ªleft turn incoming. Luca swiftly adjusted his line, while Max followed, using only Luca''s brake lights to gauge his own approach.


    [4th Position has closed in]


    **Stay calm! Don''t touch!**


    Luca refined his trajectory, the tunnel''s tight walls making every maneuver critical.


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    "... Albert Derstappen meets the barriers! Is the car still alright?!""


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    **Update. Derstappen swerves wrong while battling Aaronson. He bumped the steel barriers, but I think he''s getting back into it**


    "...Sean Aaronson in P5!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    [Host successfully executed Night Mastery!]


    [Good job, host. You have successfully defended your position. Keep it up, host.]


    Max Addams was stunned. He had found himself swallowed by the tunnel''s darkness, his depth perception thrown off¡ªbut Luca? Luca had navigated the turn flawlessly, slicing through the exit and emerging into the floodlights.


    "Haa! Eat my smoke!!!"


    "¡­BRILLIANT DEFENSE FROM LUCA RENNICK! Addams had no room to maneuver! Rennick exits the second tunnel still in P3!"


    [Han just made Lap 24. He''s heading into the pits.]


    "¡­And the inevitable has happened. With a struggling car, Ansel Hahn heads into the pit lane from P1. Unchallenged, undisturbed, unapprehended¡­ Miles Bellingham TAKES P1 in the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!!"


    "WOOOOOHH!"


    Luca surged up the leaderboard.


    [2nd Position]

 Chapter 139 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix 4

    [35th Lap]When Ansel emerged from the pits, the podium positions were already locked in: Miles Bellingham had taken command of P1, Luca Rennick was holding steady in P2, and Max Addams was fighting to maintain P3 while chasing Luca. Ansel managed to rejoin the race just in time to slot into P4, narrowly cutting off Sean Aaronson, who was charging hard behind him. Now, Ansel found himself in a precarious position, defending against one of the most aggressive drivers on the grid. After going head-on in the Spanish Grand Prix, the spectators had their immediate bets on Aaronson claiming P4 over the courses of the streets. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton were satisfied with the current positions of their drivers. With Luca in P2 and Ansel in P4, the team had a total of thirty points, increasing their lead over Velocit¨¤ Jnr. Velocit¨¤''s drivers, Max Addams and Dani Walding, were in P3 and P7 respectively.


    Both Team Principals also had Luca, their Player A driver, in mind. They knew he was just one point behind Max Addams in the standings, and finishing P2 would put Luca at 143 points, while Max would end up with 142 points. The positions would still be separated by a single point, but this time, Luca would be ahead.


    However, they couldn''t ignore the possibility of Luca pushing for P1. Securing the win would turn that narrow margin into an 8-point lead¡ªan outcome far more advantageous for the team as well.


    [37th Lap]


    Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. team engineers were piling the pressure on Max Addams, pleading with him¡ªnot just to take P2 from Luca, but to seize the lead of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix altogether.


    Max gritted his teeth, his ears boiling as Luca defended masterfully over the last few laps. Seven laps remained to complete the ninth round of the championship, and things weren''t looking good for the reigning team champions¡ªnot to mention Max himself, the defending F2 Drivers'' Champion.


    His frustration bled into his racing. He kept the pressure on Luca, tailing him relentlessly. He was too close to capitalize on the slipstream. Too close for DRS. A part of him wondered if he should drop back just a second or two to activate the feature properly¡ªbut falling even that far risked getting swallowed by Ansel and Aaronson''s incoming brawl.


    Not an option.


    So, he gripped the wheel tighter, clutched onto the throttle, and surged alongside Luca once again. "C''mon, Luca! Give me something!" Max growled into his padded helmet as both cars shot down the straight, streaking toward the next series of turns weaving between the modern skyline.


    As if Luca had heard Max''s challenge, he muttered under his breath, "Not today." He braked slightly, tilting his wheel sharply to hug the inside line.


    Max, undeterred, went for the outside¡ªaggressively. His blue-and-black Dallara streaked past the roaring crowd like a blurred dart aimed for the bullseye before vanishing behind a skyscraper, still breathing down Luca''s neck.


    "System?! Aren''t I chopping this guy at all?!" Luca barked, frustrated that he hadn''t received any level-up notification for Corner Chopping, despite executing it countless times in the past few laps.


    [System always notifies host when there''s a point attained]


    Was Miles now getting around his Corner Chopping? Maybe he had seen Luca execute it many times in the race replays, and after experiencing it, it was no surprise that a good F2 driver like Max Addams would figure out that Luca always did something fishy around turns and corners.


    Luca scoffed. Talk about an all-round driver, he thought. Good at offence and defence. I''d love to be like that, but I wanna be exceptional at them, not good.


    **You''re in a fierce duel, mate. Track structure would favor Max on the inside this time. Dominate now, or he''ll overtake**


    [Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]


    [Tire traction: 80%]


    [Recommended speed for maneuver: 120 km/h]


    Luca made a daring move, cutting to the inside line of the next turn, crisscrossing in front of Max. But Max was unfazed. With sharp reflexes, he swerved right, reclaiming momentum and drive as he surged to retake P2.


    [3rd Position]


    Luca didn''t let it shake him. He knew it was only temporary. As the final turn unwound, the track structure spaghettified him ahead of Max once more, spitting them onto the home straight.


    [2nd Position]


    "...Max Addams and Luca Rennick are putting on a masterclass here! This is some of the best wheel-to-wheel racing we''ve seen this season!"


    [Analyzing 3rd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [3rd Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    [Reanalyzing...]


    [3rd Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    "What? That''s weird."


    Luca darted a glance at his side mirror, his pupils adjusting to the dim light just in time to catch the glint of Max''s blue chassis lurking behind. His grip tightened. Did he just slow down on purpose?


    It didn''t make sense¡ªuntil it did.


    Max had deliberately and tactically eased out of the final corner, allowing Luca to surge ahead just enough to set the perfect gap. DRS was now in play, like a carefully baited trap laid bare. Max was now a sniper lining up his shot and Luca was in his crosshairs.


    In that moment, Luca had no idea what to do. Your next chapter awaits on empire


    Max''s car loomed behind him like a dark beast in the surrounding nighttime, hunting his precious P2. He was powerless. Straightaway Chopping wouldn''t work¡ªnot against an opponent armed with DRS.


    Mr. Moritz''s voice echoed in his mind, warning him about Max''s rear wing opening like a blade. He told Luca to adjust the best as he could.


    But how?


    This was the home straight of a street circuit¡ªRiyadh Zenith Circuit. It wasn''t even that long. Maybe he could defend.


    I can!


    [Analyzing 3rd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [3rd Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might decrease and not in your favor due to 3rd Position honed with DRS.]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 1st Position]


    [You are 3 seconds away, host.]


    Luca was surprised, and he looked ahead at the end of the home straight where the grid lay to kick off the 38th Lap, and there was Miles'' car, just at the other end of the straight, the golden livery sparkling in the darkness as his red lights flashed for a short moment.


    Luca was surprised because he and Max had pushed so aggressively that they''d got close enough to Miles, who had a commanding lead¡ªclose enough for his System to automatically detect by itself.


    Perhaps, this Grand Prix was going to end quite¡­ well.


    "...Less drag! Wing flaps open! Max Addams hits DRS and he''s just behind Luca Rennick now! Luca Rennick can''t defend that P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s stomach tightened. Tsk! Crafty bastard.

 Chapter 140 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix 5

    The Trampos crew erupted from their seats as the leaderboard remained unchanged after the home straight leading into the 38th lap. Luca had managed to hold his ground down the short straight, despite Max''s DRS giving him a significant advantage. Max had closed the gap and drawn alongside Luca, but his DRS advantage faded just as they reached side-by-side positioning. He couldn''t complete the overtake to claim P2.Cheers broke out from the Trampos pit, celebrating what many had deemed an inevitable overtake. Yet, against all odds, Luca had defended his position. Now, with both drivers nose-to-nose, the battle for P2 was far from over, setting the stage for another intense duel.


    The paddock was alive with tension, engineers hurrying to their stations to give Luca every bit of guidance they could as the Grand Prix neared its final fifteen minutes. Computers buzzed with activity as real-time data poured in, each piece crucial to securing his position.


    Ansel was also receiving more attention than usual. A larger group of engineers surrounded him, offering strategies and updates to help him hold off Sean Aaronson while keeping an eye on Albert Derstappen, who had recovered impressively after his earlier mishap. The urgency in the paddock reflected the fierce competition unfolding on the track.


    "¡­extremely dangerous wheel-to-wheel racing between the reigning champion and a strong contender! They''re pushing each other to the absolute limit, and at these speeds, so close together, one small mistake could end in disaster! With the race nearing its end, this kind of risky battle could cost them everything¡ªneither can afford a DNF at this stage."


    "...And look at this¡ªthey''re not just fighting each other; they''re closing in rapidly on Miles Bellingham in P1! This is turning into a three-way showdown for the win, and if they keep up this relentless pace, it might boil over before the checkered flag!"


    "¡­Saudi Arabian Grand Prix at Lap 39!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Side-by-Side King +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]


    Luca finally got the edge he needed as he closed in on Miles earlier than Max, who was once again surprised by Luca''s dominance in their wheel-to-wheel brawl.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 1 second away, host.]


    [Slipstream Mastery failed due to host changing focus to Night Mastery]


    "C''mon. I wanted to see through this tunnel," Luca complained, snapping out of Night Mastery as well after the system notification. He had hoped to capitalize on Miles'' slipstream for a speed boost while also navigating the first tunnel. However, his stats in those skills weren''t high enough to perform simultaneous feats. The system explained this to him, and he could only sigh.


    [3rd Position closing in]


    That was one thing with Max Addams¡ªhe was never satisfied with anything less than P1. Sure, every driver aimed for the top spot, but Max raced as though his very existence depended on it. Podium finishes meant nothing if he wasn''t the one standing at the center, and Luca could see it in his every move.


    Luca, on the other hand, was still learning. He was beginning to understand that unrelenting mindset, even picking up a few tricks from Max along the way.


    As soon as Miles darted out of the tunnel''s exit into the bright floodlights and toward the under-bridge straight, Luca exited with less momentum than required, temporarily shocking Trampos'' engineers as they monitored the telemetry. But when they noticed the DRS signal flash on their screens and saw Luca''s rear wing opening within a second, they all sighed inwardly with relief.


    [You are 2 seconds away]


    [DRS Engaged]


    "¡­down the bridge¡ªRennick gets more speed! Bellingham could defend, but it seems unlikely now!"


    **You''ve never won a Grand Prix, Miles! How can you let Rennick get a fourth?! He''ll run away with the championship if he takes P1! Fight harder¡ªdon''t let him through!** Mr. Valerio Mancini, Squadra Corse Jnr Team Principal, barked into the radio after leaving the viewing post back on Lap 35 when he saw Luca and Max''s battle closing in on his young star, who was still holding P1.


    Miles bit his lip, his jaw tightening as frustration and determination built within him. "As if I don''t know that, Mancini," he muttered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white beneath his gloves.


    His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. Luca''s red chassis loomed closer, DRS giving him unstoppable pace down the straight.


    "A win here cements me as a contender. A win here tells the world I''m not just another driver¡ªI''m the future champion," Miles whispered to himself, adjusting his line and taking a defensive position. He could try to hold Luca off the same way Luca had done with Max Addams, hoping to keep him at bay until his DRS window closed.


    Luca clenched his teeth as the track tightened, his car so close to Miles that he instinctively tilted his wheel to switch lanes for an overtake. But as they approached the next set of turns, the track grew narrower, its fluorescent arrows glowing against the night.


    [Track Span Analysis: 8.5 meters wide (combined lane width)]


    [Outside Lane Width: 3.0 meters (including runoff area)][Optimal Racing Line: 2.5 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.55 meters on the left; 1.0 meter on the right (outside lane available)]


    I''ll take it!


    [DRS disengaged]


    Squadra Corse Jnr''s crew erupted in cheers, celebrating Miles'' ability to maintain P1 even under Luca''s DRS assault.


    [3rd Position Closing in Rapidly]


    "...Luca Rennick failed to take P1 when he had the chance, and Max Addams says it''s not over! Oh! Look at Street 6! All three cars are bunching up!"


    **Take it, take it, Max!** Max''s engineers urged him to push harder out of the chicanes, even as the three cars dangerously bunched together.


    **Maintain traction and downforce, you might make contact!** Luca''s team warned as he found himself sandwiched between his fiercest rivals.


    **DEFEND!** Miles'' radio blasted.


    Miles was now acutely aware of Max''s relentless push on Luca''s left. He shifted to the outside lane, preparing for a wider arc into the corner. He''d learned this from Antonio Luigi, who had occasionally trained with Squadra Corse Jnr. His experience with the F1 veteran had taught him that this was the optimal approach¡ªnot just for maintaining speed but for cutting off Max''s attack. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, the vibration of the engine pulsing through his arms as his tires tilted in response to the wheel.


    **Use the outside to set up your drift! Just stay ahead!** came Squadra Corse Jnr ''s radio, igniting his drive.


    Max, however, was not the kind to wait for an opening. He went for the inside line, a high-risk move that required precision bordering on perfection. His Dallara F2 screamed into the corner, his tires nearly scraping the curbs as he forced his way through.


    "...and Max Addams goes for the inside, ahead at P2 now, he wants P1¡ªhe might get it!"


    [3rd Position]


    Miles, glancing briefly in his side mirror, saw Max''s car creeping dangerously from the inside while he drifted in from the outside, both cars crisscrossing right in front of Luca. "Not today," Miles muttered through clenched teeth, cutting his drift perfectly to block Max''s momentum. And... it seemed Miles had outmaneuvered him, reclaiming the apex with perfect execution.


    "...Miles Bellingham still at P1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    But Max wasn''t done. His determination spiked into recklessness. He kept pushing, attempting to squeeze through, almost as if he believed his car could phase through Miles'' Dallara.


    Recklessness always came with consequences.


    The sickening crunch of carbon fiber echoed through the streets of Riyadh.


    "...CONTACT BETWEEN ADDAMS AND BELLINGHAM!


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Fuck! For fuck''s sake!** Mr. Lugo and his engineers shouted as Max rammed into Miles.


    "...That''s a catastrophic hit for Max Addams! His front wing is shattered!"


    [You have reduced speed]


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    Luca''s eyes widened as the scene unfolded. Both cars clipped their front wings, sending shards of carbon fiber scattering across the track.


    "...Miles has sustained damage too, but it looks like he''s holding on! They''re BOTH holding on!"


    Miles wrestled with his car, the steering suddenly heavier as the damaged wing disrupted his downforce. "I''m fine! I can hold it!" he barked into the radio, determination drowning out the fear gripping his chest. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    **No, you are not fine, goddamnit! You need a fucking pit now! Shit! Addams should be fucking penalized!** Mr. Mancini growled.


    As soon as the collision occurred, the track stewards sprang into action, launching an immediate review. Their investigation would determine whether the incident was unavoidable or the result of reckless driving. If deemed an unintentional racing incident, the race would continue without interruption, as both cars were still in motion. However, if one driver was found guilty of overly aggressive tactics, a penalty would be issued.


    Luca''s instincts told him the likely penalty would range between 10 to 15 seconds¡ªpossibly even 20. At this stage of the race, with so little time left, such a harsh penalty could spell disaster for the driver at fault, likely costing them their position or even their shot at a podium finish.


    "WOOOOHH!"

 Chapter 141 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix 6

    [40th Lap]Indeed, one driver was entirely at fault for the Addams-Bellingham incident in the 39th lap, which kept the crowd roaring and the paddocks louder than ever. The Squadra Corse Jnr crew jabbed fingers at the Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr crew in their garage, accusing Max Addams of being too aggressive, a move that could cost their leading driver P1 due to a damaged car.


    The stewards remained precise in their review, scrutinizing all angles and analyzing the possibility of which driver initiated the move first. Ultimately, the stewards finalized their decision midway through the 40th lap and relayed it directly to the guilty driver''s engineers.


    **Max?** Velocit¨¤ Jnr Head Team engineer said after a while. **You''ve been penalized. 10 seconds... I''m sorry**


    "... Halfway into the 40th Lap, the verdict has been giving and¡ªit''s 10 seconds! It''s Max Addams! Max Addams has been penalized with 10 seconds in this Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...with just four more laps to go, Steve. This is a real bummer for him. It could take the reigning champion down the leaderboard to who knows? P6?"


    Max punched his wheel countless times, frustration coursing through him like a storm. He gripped his wheel tighter, threatening to pull it out of the chassis in his anger. Ten whole seconds?! "This is ridiculous!" Max barked over the radio. "I gave the twat enough space. What the hell were they watching?"


    **We pushed too much, mate. I''m sorry** his team engineers replied. **We''ll take that penalty when you pit, box as soon as the next lap begins. We''ll be fast. Let''s salvage something**


    Max cussed loudly, his gaze snapping to the still-pack leader, Miles. Both their cars were compromised¡ªneither running at peak performance. If they didn''t pit soon, they risked breaking down in the middle of the Riyadh Zenith Circuit.


    Miles gritted his teeth, his knuckles white against the wheel. He couldn''t believe he was about to suffer for someone else''s recklessness. Pitting this late in the race was like handing his P1 away¡ªhanding it to... Luca, who was still in P3. The realization made him shout in frustration, his damaged chassis resisting even the force of his SomberCore''s power. His side mirror reflected the sight of Luca''s red-and-black Dallara, weaving steadily behind Max''s.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    Luca had long since stayed right behind Miles and Max. He had no intention to overtake them when he was certain they''d give him the lead once they head into the pits. Even Mr. Moritz announced this advantage with enthusiasm over the radio. Moreover, Luca took caution in case Miles'' or Max''s car might completely give up, skid and swerve recklessly which might collide with him if he pushed forward in their pitiful states.


    **41st lap, and P1 is yours, Luca!** Mr. Moritz jubilated.


    "...And they go down the bridge straight once again, heading into the chicanes where it all happened! The 40th lap leaders are about to begin the 41st!"


    Luca''s grip on the wheel tightened. His heart pounded.


    Okay, Luca. Your rivals have once again sealed their fate. Three laps to go. Let''s finish this...


    [41st Lap]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 270 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 70% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 226,500m


    -Time: 1hr 10 min.]


    "...Miles Bellingham and Max Addams are changing course into the pitlane, pulling out of the race momentarily for a reason neither driver nor their teams ever anticipated! And Luca Rennick holds P3! Luca Rennick moves forward with his rivals out of the way¡ªit''s a free climb for Rennick...."


    Luca''s eyes trailed Max''s car as it veered sharply into the pitlane, the neon-lit track casting a ghostly shimmer on the vehicle''s polished surface. A quick glance ahead revealed Miles Bellingham already in the pitlane, his front wing scraping sparks against the asphalt as his car limped forward.


    Luca shifted his focus back to the stretch of empty track that lay before him. The smooth glow of the streetlamps reflected off the sleek barriers, giving the illusion of an endless tunnel carved out of light and steel. It was a rare moment in the chaos of the race¡ªa clear path. No cars in sight, save for the lapped opponents scattered across the circuit who had yet to finish the 40th lap. With the same momentum, Luca filled in the gap with a blur of speed, catching glimpses of Miles and Max in their respective pit boxes. Surely, Miles would emerge long before Max, whose engineers were counting down his 10-second penalty.


    [1st Position]


    "...A chaotic turn of events here at the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix! Luca Rennick now stands in P1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **You''re clear! Track''s yours, Luca! Track is yours!**


    Luca chuckled softly. The realization of possibly winning his fourth Grand Prix in a row was only now settling in.


    **It''s lonely at the top, isn''t it?!** Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yup. Ha! It definitely is," Luca replied with a faint smile, pushing his car past the grandstands and further into the 41st lap, the illuminated markers guiding him like a constellation through the night.


    Trampos'' fans began to cheer! "HOOH...HOOOH!" Their Player A could just win his fourth consecutive Grand Prix! And it would surely solidify their gap above Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr!


    A job well done, in Mr. Grant and Ms. Valloton''s opinion, as Luca sliced past the screens into the second tunnel. Ms. Valloton took a deep breath of relief, genuinely proud of her drivers and how the new structure had paved the way for a clear understanding of who should be at the top.


    Now, twenty-five points from Luca in P1, and eighteen points from Ansel, who was in P2! Unbelievable¡ªboth Ansel and Luca were about to top the final leaderboard.


    Realizing this, the entire Trampos crew began to inwardly jubilate. Another definitive, commanding victory coming for them in the Constructors'' Championship!


    "...Luca Rennick holds P1, Ansel Hahn is locked in at P2! Both Trampos drivers dominate the leaderboard as they charge down the home straight to kick off the 42nd lap! This could be a repeat of Monte Carlo! Another night to remember, like Stellar, when Trampos Racing shocked the feeder series and changed the game of F2 forever! The crowd is on their feet, cheering them on!"


    "...Miles Bellingham exits the pits, securing P3, but Max Addams can only rejoin the race after Sean Aaronson snatches P4! Both are on cold tires, but they''re back in it! What a shakeup, ladies and gentlemen! None of them could have anticipated this outcome, nor could anyone have predicted the sheer fortune of Trampos Racing tonight. Both drivers might just cross the final grid in tandem!"


    Enjoy more content from empire


    **Nothing but clean lines from now on, chap. You got this**


    [42nd Lap]


    [Stamina+1]


    [Ding!]


    [Stamina Attribute is at 30]


    "Yes," Luca replied, his voice steady as he guided his car into Turn 1. With his fiercest rivals now out of the picture, a strange calm washed over him. It wasn''t the adrenaline-fueled focus he was used to when battling for position, but something softer, almost serene. For the first time in what felt like ages of Grands Prix, he was simply driving.


    The street circuit stretched before him, illuminated by the golden glow of floodlights lining the track. Reflections of the Arabic city''s glittering skyline danced on his visor, creating a surreal, dreamlike atmosphere. He could hear the hum of his SomberCore¡ªhe could feel it too, vibrating through his body¡ªa machine he controlled, though his hands felt weightless.


    Now, he believed he was putting up an exceptional performance. A performance worthy of F1¡ªdefense, offense, timed aggression, and knowing passivity. If he didn''t execute any of these well, he might not be where he was¡ªabout to win his fourth consecutive Grand Prix. How wonderful was that?!


    If Luca remembered correctly, the record for most consecutive F2 and F1 Grand Prix wins was four, held by Dante Reyes for F2 and Marco Rossi for F1. Winning this would put him on par with such legends of both divisions.


    Hehe.


    [2nd Position closing in]


    The notification snapped Luca out of his daze instantly, and he realized he had been sleep-driving¡ªif that was even a word. He blinked several times, trying to make sense of the alert, because it felt absurd to receive such a warning when he believed all rivals were out of the equation.


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    "Is that Ansel?" Luca asked his System, even though he knew it wouldn''t reply. He glanced at his side mirror, just in time to see a similar red-and-black Dallara reflected back at him.


    A prick of unease climbed up Luca''s spine. He couldn''t remember when Ansel had gotten this close. Was it the accumulated slowdown from dodging Miles and Max''s damaged cars? Or had Ansel simply flipped some switch, igniting a fire within that hadn''t been there before? Either way, the approach was unsettling. It was calm, methodical, and unnervingly persistent¡ªadjectives that shouldn''t describe Ansel''s driving when he was right behind Luca.


    In the control room, Mr. Moritz and Mr. Colt exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes glued to the telemetry spikes flashing across the monitors. Ansel''s performance had been surging beyond the norm for the past lap. His pace had increased subtly at first, but now, with just two seconds separating him from Luca, the pattern couldn''t be ignored.


    Mr. Moritz leaned into the two-way transmitter, his voice steady but edged with concern.


    **Han? You''re moving kind of fast there. Are you aware?**


    [Host has unlocked Skills to disclose an opponent]


    Ansel, his gaze fixed on Luca''s gearbox, nodded softly, as though acknowledging a private thought rather than the voice that emerged from the dashboard. The streets of Riyadh blurred under the city lights as the cars dove deeper into the 42nd lap.


    **I know** Ansel replied, his tone calm¡ªalmost too calm. **I just want to get as far as possible**


    Luca digested Ansel''s words with cynicism, especially as his system alerted him once again that 2nd Position was closing in.


    Mr. Moritz frowned again, his eyes darting between Ansel''s telemetry and the live feed of his car slicing through the night. The numbers didn''t match the reassurance Ansel had just offered. His speed remained relentless, his energy deployment system running at near max output, and his ERS usage to his SomberCore¡ªnormally balanced¡ªwas spiking dangerously high. The only thing Ansel hadn''t done yet was hit DRS, because if he did, that would make the difference between wanting to "get far" and outright attempting to overtake Luca.


    **Could you just... ease off?** Colt advised slowly, watching Ansel''s car this time¡ªnot even the telemetry. It trailed Luca like a predator, sizing him up, using his slipstream. It was concerning, subtle things a Player B shouldn''t be doing.


    Ansel heard the words but didn''t reply. His hands tightened on the wheel as they shot through the first tunnel, the artificial light playing tricks with shadows on the track. This tunnel reminded him of when he had relinquished his then-P2 to Luca, Player A.


    "...both Trampos drivers make it through the tunnel, still holding a stable delta, but Hahn appears to be picking up momentum. This is unexpected, considering earlier in this Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, Ansel Hahn gave up his position to Luca Rennick. Team orders? Driver strategy? We''re not sure, but Hahn is driving like that strategy is out of the window..."


    "...And in moments like this, Steve, with both drivers commanding a significant gap at the front, it wouldn''t be surprising if they agreed to a fair competition for P1. After all, maximum team points are already secured. Whether Rennick finishes in P2 and Hahn in P1, it''s still 45 points for the team. Of course, the battle is just my speculation..."


    That was the issue. While the team would secure the same maximum points regardless of who crossed the line first, the Tiered Pursuit Strategy explicitly stated that Ansel was NOT to overtake Luca under any circumstances. Both Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton had reinforced this in no uncertain terms.


    Mr. Moritz rubbed his temple, shaking his head as his other engineers glanced expectantly at him. "Han wants P1," he muttered, his voice tight with tension as he gestured at the data that told the full story.

 Chapter 142 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix 7

    It wasn''t supposed to feel personal¡ªat least that''s what Ansel told himself. But deep down, there was something about this race, about the night streets of Riyadh and the glow of the podium''s promise, that made it impossible to let go. He reasoned like Jon Stark, the second F2 English commentator, often did¡ªanalytical, pragmatic, focused on results. The Tiered Pursuit strategy forbade him from overtaking Luca under any circumstances, but this time he couldn''t let it dictate his actions.It had been five long Grands Prix since his last win, and the hunger for P1 gnawed at him. Ansel craved that victory, not just for the trophy or the cheers, but for what it represented¡ªdomination. Overtaking Luca wouldn''t harm the team''s point tally in any way. But for the drivers'' standings, it meant everything.


    P1 offered five more points than P2. Five points, and a step to the center of the podium. A moment under the lights, holding a trophy that screamed victory. Luca already had three of those moments. Ansel wanted his third too!


    Luca Rennick¡ª 126


    Ansel Hahn ¡ª115


    Luca recalled the drivers'' standings as he began to take full control of his car. These were fairly enough points for an F2 driver! Even Oliver Kristensen would do anything to have Ansel''s point tally. He couldn''t understand where this was coming from and why Ansel''s car was pressing down on him.


    Mr. Moritz and Mr. Colt began to speak fervently through the radio, honing their ordering power by telling Ansel to align his chassis to the Tiered Pursuit strategy.


    **Tell Luca to let me have this one** Ansel replied when Mr. Moritz told him to regulate his chassis and engine.


    [2nd Position closing in]


    [Host has unlocked Skills to disclose an opponent]


    Luca wasn''t sure if Ansel was aware the radio was on the two-way transmitter, and he could hear his statement loud and clear. Even so, he remained quiet as he began to defend.


    **Han, this is not your decision to make. Gaffer''s made it clear Luca keeps hold of higher positions. Let''s keep some order here, Han** Mr. Moritz pleaded.


    **Ansel, let''s keep P2, okay?** Mr. Colt piped in. **You still can make some difference in Qatar**


    **Same strategy in Qatar, huh? Hard pass** Ansel retorted, his voice sharp as his car closed the two-second gap to Luca. By the time they hit the bridge straight, he was barely a second behind.


    "...AND YOU CALLED IT, JON! REAR WINGS OPEN! ANSEL HAHN IS MAKING HIS MOVE FOR P1!"


    "WOOOOHH!" The crowd erupted in anticipation as Ansel activated his DRS, his car surging forward.


    Inside the telemetry room, Mr. Moritz froze, eyes locked on the screen displaying Ansel''s bold maneuver. The sight of the rear wing of the 3D blueprint opening sent a jolt of panic through him because he knew Luca would be ready to defend against a DRS. Hastily, he ripped off his headset and bolted out of the room. His frantic steps echoed through the garage as he pushed past team members who watched him with curiosity and concern. They''d been hearing his constant loud voice over the radio, and they''d also noticed Ansel''s moves too.


    Moritz was heading toward the viewing post to confront Mr. Grant, the team principal. Trampos faces turned as he passed, the tension in the air palpable, each crewmember aware of the brewing chaos.


    Mr. Moritz barely made it to the post when, to his surprise, he nearly collided with Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton, who were already heading in his direction.


    The three managers stopped, their eyes locking in a brief but intense exchange. No words were spoken¡ªnone were needed. Silently, they turned back toward the now-packed telemetry room, a storm of unspoken tension swirling around them.


    "...LUCA RENNICK DEFENDS, BUT HAHN IS RELENTLESS AS THEY HEAD INTO THE SECOND TUNNEL, HAHN LOSSES DRS!"


    "... Rennick''s holding the racing line perfectly, Jon! He''s not giving Hahn an inch!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Quickly, Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton were handed seats in the telemetry room. In contrast to the chaos around them, the Team Principals maintained a composed demeanor. Ms. Vallotton sat calmly, slipping on her headset and adjusting the mic, while Mr. Grant decided to remain standing, hunched over the largest telemetry screen. Within seconds, they were both communicating with their drivers, who had already begun battling on track. Their efforts seemed futile, however, as Ansel refused to respond.


    [Straightaway Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    **This is outrageous, Ansel** Ms. Vallotton began firmly. **Selfishness at its finest. You two could collide if you continue this charade¡ªthere''s only one lap left**


    "...Luca moves to cover the inside! Hahn pulls out! He''s trying the outside line, but Rennick defends hard, forcing him wide!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Breathing: Drastically Spiked!]


    Luca''s heart hammered in his chest as Ansel tailed him relentlessly through the tunnel, closing the gap with every turn. The pressure was immense. He corner-chopped his teammate at the last moment, but Ansel''s aggressive drive now was unlike anything Luca had ever faced. Sweat pooled under his gloves, his grip on the wheel tightening to maintain control as his pulse threatened to overpower his focus.


    "Ansel should never push that hard through corners," Mr. Grant growled, slamming a fist against the table. "He''s not Luca. He''s Ansel Hahn, and he should know his limits."


    "Maybe we should let them duel?" Mr. Colt interjected cautiously. "Forty-five points are guaranteed either way."


    Ms. Val shook her head, dismissing the suggestion, even though it seemed like the most sensible option on the surface. Luca''s position as Player A wasn''t just because he was undeniably better¡ªit was a matter of priority. The team had aligned its focus on him, valuing his new tenure with Trampos Racing. The formula was simple: the more GPs Luca clinched, the stronger his bond with the team would grow, and the happier he would be in the team¡ªthe longer he might stay. That was the entire premise, one only truly grasped by the team principals and the board.


    Mr. Grant sighed heavily as Ansel ignored their attempts to rein him in. Gesturing indifferently, he adjusted his mic closer to his lips. **Alright, then** he said firmly. **Free, SAFE duel. But be warned¡ªthere will be punishments after this**


    "Thanks," Ansel finally replied, his voice calm yet resolute. He''d been waiting for the go-ahead, even though he felt he shouldn''t have needed permission as he closed in on Luca.


    Mr. Grant folded his arms and stood upright, watching the screens intently. He knew his drivers well¡ªnot just their driving skills but their personalities. He was certain Luca wouldn''t take it to heart after he had just given an order that contrasted to the current strategy. Judging by Luca''s silence, Mr. Grant could tell he was frightened by not just Ansel''s approach, but the energy that surrounded his car.


    [44th Lap]


    "...BOTH TRAMPOS DRIVERS BEGIN THE FINAL LAP IN THIS SAUDI ARABIAN GRAND PRIX!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P1, Ansel Hahn in P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Ansel finally brought his Dallara alongside Luca''s, the scream of his SomberCore engine revealing excessive ERS exertion to boost performance. Luca, noticing this, made the decision to activate full ERS as well¡ªafter all, it was the final lap. High ERS usage came with risks like faster tire degradation and increased wear on the car''s general Operational Status.


    As Ansel nosed into Turn 1 alongside him, Luca focused on dominating the duel, deploying his Side-by-Side King Skill. If he managed to secure a point here, he would complete his Sync Buff, ensuring that Ansel wouldn''t even catch a glimpse of his gearbox after that.


    Luca caught a fleeting glimpse of Ansel''s Dallara, it was a blur slicing through his peripheral vision as they dove into Turn 1''s apex. The floodlights gleamed off their chassis, highlighting the unmistakable similarities in their machines to the roaring crowd. A deafening cheer erupted as Ansel momentarily clinched P1, a razor-thin margin favoring him as he carved through the apex.


    [2nd Position]


    Luca tightened his grip on the wheel, his focus sharpening when Ansel didn''t glance back. It was time to lock in, to push past distractions and secure his fourth consecutive Grand Prix victory, denying his teammate of his third. A sharp thought had crossed his mind earlier in the final lap, a thought to let Ansel take P1 peacefully and avoid any intra-team tension since the points would still benefit Trampos Racing. But Luca dismissed it almost immediately. His system demanded precision and progress, every point mattered, and every victory counted. To surrender would mean abandoning the competitive spirit that defined him.


    How exceptional¡ªor competitive¡ªcould he claim to be if he handed over a win so easily? Formula racing wasn''t built on acts of charity, someone had once told him. In all his time competing in Formula 2 and watching Formula 1, he''d never seen such an act of selflessness¡ªand he certainly wasn''t about to be the first to do it.


    [1st Position]


    "...Luca Rennick back at P1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Side-by-Side King had failed due to difficult high ERS control]


    Damnit!


    Ansel gritted his teeth as Luca pulled ahead, the rear wing of his teammate''s car filling his vision. The SomberCore whined with frustration as if it mirrored his thoughts. He couldn''t let this slip. Not after the perfect apex he had taken at Turn 1, not after the energy he poured into gaining P1.


    Luca, meanwhile, felt the rush of air buffeting his Dallara as he pushed his car to the limits through the sweeping curves of Turn 2. His rear tires skidded at the bottleneck as if it was a warning that the heavy ERS use was beginning to take toll on the chassis. Luca managed to guide it, maneuvering past the tallest skyscraper again. Keep it clean. Keep it clean, he repeated to himself, his eyes darting between the track ahead and the glowing proximity bar on his system''s interface. Ansel was still right behind him, so close that both SomberCores sounded like a certain A-level engine to the spectators.


    "I need more ERS. Just a little more, and I can¡ª" Ansel whispered, but his words were interrupted as Luca sharply decelerated, catching him off guard.


    "Nope," Ansel muttered, recalling Luca''s constant use of Corner Chopping both in Featured Races and at training. He anticipated it, and forced Luca wide again, all eight tires screaming against the asphalt, leaving faint black streaks.


    [Calculating host drift exit...]


    [... successfully calculated]


    Luca and Ansel exited the turn, Luca still in the lead.


    "...Ansel Hahn refuses to back down! The Trampos teammates are neck and neck!"


    **Reckless driving, boys. Ease off. 6km left for 45 points** Mr. Moritz piped in, breaking the silence that had been in the telemetry room. All engineers and the team principals remained quiet, everyone''s eyes on the live feed and not the telemetry anymore.


    Mr. Grant watched with a sweat-beaded forehead. He was confident Luca would emerge victorious, and if he did, it would even solidify his position as Player A. This duel might just be the benchmark where fans and lovers of formula racing could confidently say Luca was better than Ansel or Ansel was better than Luca.


    **Stay defensive. Don''t let him bait you. You''ve got this** Ms. Vallotton said over the radio, completely in support of Luca.


    Her words hurt Ansel, but he digested it as fuel, trailing Luca out of Turn 4 toward the first tunnel. Once the curves straightened out a little bit, Ansel tilted his wheel to the side.


    "...Ansel Hahn attempts against his teammate again! WHAT ARE WE WITNESSING IN RIYADH?!"


    **Damn it, Han! Can''t you just back off!** Mr. Moritz yelled, losing his cool as he slammed his fist into the desk, the computer screens rattling for a second.


    The dim glow of the tunnel''s interior beckoned Luca like the maw of a beast, and for Ansel, a dark path to victory.


    Ansel darted to the inside line, his tires barely a whisper away from the fluorescent cage walls. Luca wanted to let that slide, but he felt that move might change everything before they headed into the tunnel. So, he reacted instantly, veering to block him, but the narrow confines left little room for error. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    CRJNCH!


    "OUUUHHHH!"


    "...OH My GOODNESS! ANSEL HAHN DRIVES INTO LUCA RENNICK!"

 Chapter 143 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix 8: Shattered Lead

    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:-Car Speed: 10 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 132 bpm


    -Operational Status: 15% (Critical)


    -Breathing: Drastically Spiked


    -Distance covered: 286,000m


    -Time: 1hr 14 min.]


    [Traction Lost]


    [Car Speed: 0km/h (Tumbling)]


    The last thing Luca remembered was the crunch of carbon fiber, his car vibrating beyond normal, all controls failing before a sharp, heavy pain rammed into his side.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Pain Index: 92% (Severe Trauma Detected)]


    He was yet to understand how it had happened, but he did know why. He had the free lane after blocking Ansel. And just like Max Addams to Miles Bellingham, Ansel Hahn pushed forward despite Luca''s car still retaining the lead.


    "...Oh my goodness! Rennick tumbles!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Strength +1]


    Now, he had lost complete control of his car. He was simply a mannequin inside a single-seater, tumbling uncontrollably down the track and toward the tunnel. But what troubled Luca the most wasn''t the collision, nor the violent tumbling, nor even the impending crash¡ªit was the excruciating pain in his right side, where Ansel''s front wing had driven into his chassis and penetrated the cockpit.


    "...This might be it for him!"


    Mr. Moritz tried to speak to Luca over the radio, but the system was damaged as well, and his words only came through as crackling static.


    [Operational Status: 8% (Failure Imminent)]


    "...Ansel Hahn and Luca Rennick, two teammates of Trampos Racing, have just delivered one of the most shocking moments in F2 racing history today! A collision in one of the season''s most dramatic moments¡ªon the final lap of this Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!"


    "...Luca Rennick is still spinning violently down the track, his car suffering severe damage! Ansel Hahn''s front wing punctured Rennick''s chassis¡ªHahn''s front wing is gone¡ªand Rennick might be facing a far more horrible fate!" S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "OUUUHHHH!"


    Luca''s single-seater flipped repeatedly, his control completely lost, the night world spinning in a chaotic blur¡ªtwisting metal, his system''s interface flashing erratically, and the blinding floodlights of the street circuit all blending together in a disorienting kaleidoscope. His breathing was ragged inside the cockpit, which now felt like a coffin. Ansel''s car had crushed into his, compressing Luca like cat food in a can. Every gasp he took dragged sharp pain from his right side, and his helmeted head bounced violently up and down. His legs were trapped, pressed uncomfortably into the confines of the crumpled chassis.


    In the pit lane, the Trampos crew stood frozen, hands on their heads, watching in horror as Luca''s car tumbled toward the side of the tunnel, barreling toward an inevitable crash. Ansel''s car, on the other hand, had come to an immediate stop, his telemetry showing catastrophic front suspension failure¡ªhis car was finished, completely immobile. Both Trampos drivers were out of the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. No one could believe it¡ªnot the commentators, not the fans, not even their rivals.


    [Host is capable of surviving crash and leaving coherently due to high Attribute points¡ªStrength & Endurance]


    Luca braced himself. His hands hovered over the wheel, unsure where to place them in the cramped cockpit that had practically folded him in. He had learned during training that the best way to handle a crash was to keep the body as compact as possible¡ªlimbs together, nothing flailing. He wanted to claw at his restraints, to crisscross his forearms for better stability, but there was no space. He was smashed like tinfoil.


    His car took one final, violent bounce¡ªthen it launched nearly ten feet into the air, missing the gaping tunnel entrance by mere inches before slamming into its side, wedged between the steel barriers.


    "OUUUHHHH!"


    [Operational Status: 0% (Complete Failure)]


    The impact struck him like a freight train. His helmet slammed against the side restraint, his neck absorbing the brunt of the force, while his arms¡ªstill gripping the wheel¡ªnearly bent at an unnatural angle.


    [Strength +3]


    "...LUCA RENNICK HAS COME TO A STOP!"


    The announcement of red flags rang out immediately. Marshals rushed forward, frantically waving the crimson flags, their presence amplified by the blaring sirens and the flashing emergency lights around the Riyadh Zenith Circuit.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 0 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 132 bpm


    -Operational Status: 0% (Complete Failure)


    -Breathing: Drastically Spiked


    -Distance covered: 286,000m


    -Time: 1hr 14 min.]


    "Oh, fuck," Luca whispered to himself, his head pounding as a sudden headache crashed into him. His ears were ringing, but beneath the static noise, he could make out the radio''s futile attempts to relay Mr. Moritz''s frantic voice¡ªor someone else''s. It didn''t matter now. Far in the background, the wail of sirens grew louder, accompanied by the hurried thud of marshals'' footsteps nearing his crash site.


    Luca let out a shaky breath, his body trembling as he took quick inventory. His arms and legs¡ªintact. That alone felt like a miracle. But his side? It throbbed with unrelenting, sharp pain, each breath making it worse.


    "Could''ve been worse," he muttered, leaning back slightly against the crumpled remains of his car''s chassis. The system''s interface flickered, the only source of light in the overwhelming darkness. Smoke thickened around him, stinging his nostrils with the acrid scent of burnt rubber and fuel.


    Am I upside down?!


    Creak!


    "What''s that?" he muttered, his voice hoarse from the pain.


    He barely had time to react before the inevitable happened.


    CREEAAAAK¡ªCRASH!


    A streetlight, damaged from the crash, gave way and toppled. It slammed down with brutal force onto the already mangled wreck of his car, sending a violent jolt through the ground. The impact rattled Luca from his pounding head to his core. He instinctively shielded his face¡ªalthough he had a helmet¡ªas shards of glass and jagged fragments of metal scattered in every direction.


    "OUUUHHHH!"


    "Jesus Christ!" Luca hissed, his heart hammering in his chest. For a moment, he didn''t move, half expecting another part of the world to come crashing down on top of him.


    He could hear the marshals approaching now, shouting orders, waving their arms frantically to signal the safety team.


    "...OH MY GOODNESS! The marshals are rushing toward Luca Rennick! We haven''t seen movement after the fall of the light¡ªwe can only hope!"


    Down the track, before the tunnel, Ansel remained silent in his lifeless car. His hands were still locked onto the wheel, his fingers clenched as if the duel was still ongoing. His eyes stayed fixed on Luca''s wrecked Dallara, on the flickering streetlight above it, on the marshals in orange swarming the scene.


    He tried moving his car again. Nothing. It didn''t budge¡ªas if it were nothing more than a dead toy now. But what was the point? Even if he could move, what then? Rejoin the race? After this?


    This wasn''t a 10-second penalty. Not even a 20-second or 30-second one.


    This was far worse.


    Penalties for something like this could be severe¡ªstarting from the very back of the grid in the next race, P30. Or worse¡­ a one-race ban.


    Slowly, Ansel released his grip on the wheel. His breath caught as he saw the marshals finally pulling a body from the wrecked Dallara.

 Chapter 144 A Race Lost In A Second

    The Trampos Racing garage was as silent as a graveyard when the sickening crunch echoed through the monitors, broadcasting the sound of Ansel Hahn''s aerodynamic front wing gouging deep into the side of Luca''s car. The collision was visceral as a metallic symphony of destruction as the front wing detached, taking with it part of Luca''s suspension and turning his car into a violently tumbling projectile.For a moment, the garage seemed frozen in time. Then McCauley and a few other engineers sprang into action, bolting out the door the instant the red flags were raised. They moved with desperate urgency, determined to reach Luca even before the marshals. As their footsteps faded, silence reclaimed the garage¡ªheavy, oppressive, quiet silence.


    Mr. Grant broke this silence.


    Calmly, he removed his headset, tapped the back of Ms. Vallotton''s palm in a quiet reassurance, then left the telemetry station.


    He walked through the interior of the garage, the race commentary broadcasting loudly, sirens wailing through Riyadh''s nighttime air. Finally, he stepped out into the paddock, where a cool, crisp breeze awaited him. The air carried the cacophony of the crowd''s cheers, the blaring sirens, and the commentators'' urgent voices.


    "¡­Ansel Hahn and Luca Rennick¡ªboth out of the race! The collision at Turn Seven has brought chaos to the track!"


    Mr. Grant struggled to process the double DNF that had struck his team. DNFs were an accepted part of racing¡ªdrivers could suffer two, sometimes three, in a single season. Until now, Luca had avoided any, while Ansel had only suffered one earlier in Budapest.


    But for both drivers on the same team to fail to finish due to a collision with each other? That was an anomaly¡ªa rare and unfortunate occurrence in motorsport. While such incidents had happened before, even in Formula 1, Mr. Grant couldn''t shake the belief that this particular crash had been entirely avoidable. Yet, it had happened.


    Back in the garage, Ms. Vallotton leaned toward the radio, tapping her headset softly.


    "Ansel, are you okay?" she asked, with a measured voice.


    Ansel''s car had come to a halt after the collision, and he still hadn''t exited the cockpit. She needed to be certain he was unharmed¡ªthey had to know the extent of what they were dealing with.


    "Yes, I''m fine," Ansel replied, though his tone was heavy, his voice hoarse and distant.


    Ms. Vallotton exhaled silently, nodding to herself. She removed her headset and rose with an unexpected grace, her expression composed.


    "Alright. Take over. Job''s done for tonight," she said to the engineers, her calm demeanor catching them off guard. With a slight pause, she added dryly, "From 45 points to zero points. Impressive." Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and left the telemetry room.


    She stepped outside and joined Mr. Grant, burying her hands into the deep pockets of her coat. Together, they stood under the cool night sky, their eyes fixed on the massive screen mounted on a golden skyscraper across the pit lane. The live feed showed marshals lifting the collapsed streetlight and carefully extracting Luca from his shattered Dallara. They awaited confirmation of his condition.


    Ms. Vallotton''s gaze flicked momentarily toward the neighboring Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr garage. It was quiet, but she could sense the restrained satisfaction emanating from within. They weren''t celebrating openly¡ªbut the downfall of Trampos Racing tonight was undoubtedly a victory they were savoring.


    "Luca, can you stand?" a marshal asked, crouching beside him.


    Luca''s helmeted head rested against the edge of the cockpit as they worked to free him.


    Weakly, he shook his head, his voice strained. "I don''t think so," he gasped, his breathing ragged. As one of the marshals began unfastening his helmet, he winced sharply, gritting his teeth as a bolt of pain radiated from his side. "My legs¡­ they''re stuck," he added, his voice faint but clear.


    "¡­We see movement! We see Luca Rennick! Luca Rennick is safe in this Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!"


    A round of applause spread through the Riyadh Zenith Circuit.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Mr. Grant had seen far worse crashes, so he was certain Luca would definitely survive. He nodded at Ms. Vallotton once the announcement rang out.


    Meanwhile, McCauley and the Trampos crew sprinted to the crash site, arriving just as the medical and utility cars pulled up. The marshals were already at work stabilizing Luca, their hands bracing his torso to prevent any unnecessary movement. They started by hauling away the fallen streetlight, then used hydraulic cutters to slice through the metal, widening the cockpit to slip Luca out more easily.


    "Save the engine," one of the workers called out as they worked.


    The moment the frame began to give way, McCauley and another crew member rushed to clear the remaining debris around Luca''s legs. "We''ve got some clearance!" McCauley shouted as the pedals finally snapped free.


    The medics moved quickly, carefully maneuvering Luca''s legs out of the cockpit. He winced sharply, his hands clenching as pain shot through his body.


    With the cockpit cleared, the team slid a rescue board alongside the car. Coordinating seamlessly, they lifted Luca from the wreckage, supporting his back and legs as they eased him onto the board. The medics secured him with straps, ensuring he wouldn''t move during transport.


    [Endurance +1]


    "...A bad end for Trampos Racing and for Luca Rennick. At such a crucial stage in the competition, where all points were up for grabs, both drivers seemed to miscommunicate and miscalculate, bringing calamity to their team and fans!"


    "...Luca Rennick AND Ansel Hahn fail to finish the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!"


    "...Red flags remain waving! The other drivers are practically two positions up by now, and when the final lap restarts, Miles Bellingham will claim P1, Max Addams P2, and Sean Aaronson will take P3! Unbelievable closing scenes here in this Saudi Arabian Grand Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    McCauley stood with his hands on his waist, watching as Luca was carefully loaded into the waiting medical car. He took a deep breath, relief washing over him at the sight of Luca giving a thumbs-up and even a faint smirk as the doors shut. His arms were fine, and so were his legs, but McCauley couldn''t shake the worried feeling because Luca had kept complaining that his side hurt really bad.


    Recalling the collision where Ansel''s front wings dented Luca''s Dallara, McCauley was certain Luca wasn''t just exaggerating the pain.


    He turned his gaze to the mangled Dallara, where Dennis and a few others were already assessing the damage. That was a massive loss of money, and now all they could do was figure out what they could salvage.


    "...Safety car will be on the track in the next one minute. All non-drivers and marshals, please exit the track immediately!"


    The sharp announcement over the loudspeakers snapped McCauley out of his thoughts. He waved at the team, rallying them to vacate the track. "Let''s go, folks! Leave it for now; we''ll deal with the wreck later!" Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As they regrouped, McCauley noticed Ansel climbing out of his car, already removing his helmet. The frustration on Ansel''s face was plain, and he refused any assistance from the crew, marching toward the Trampos garage with a scowl.


    Impatience boiling over, McCauley strode after him, catching up just as they neared the paddock. Grabbing Ansel by the arm, he spun him around. "Hahn! What the heck happened out there, huh?!" he barked, his voice louder than intended.


    Ansel stopped walking, yanked his hand free, turned, and shot McCauley a wicked glare. "What is it now?!"


    "You dare ask me that?!" McCauley snapped, his frustration spilling over. "Why''d you let this happen?! You were supposed to hold Luca in P1! You know that!"


    Ansel''s jaw tightened as he stepped closer, his tone sharp and biting. "Maybe I don''t want to play that damn game anymore. Player A this, Player A that¡ªit''s a joke!" He hissed the words, his voice filled with bitter resentment, before turning on his heel and walking away into the garage, passing Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton without sparing them a glance.

 Chapter 145 A Race Lost In A Second 2

    The ninth round of the Formula Racing season concluded with F1''s Sunday race, but for the first time in a long while, Formula 2 dominated the conversation. Discussions, debates, and analysis surrounding Formula 2 events were more intense throughout the weekend than those about Formula 1. Even Sam Hamilton, the lead English commentator for F1, couldn''t help but weigh in during the 20th lap, when Davide DiMarco made a daring move for P1. Hamilton drew comparisons between DiMarco''s aggressive overtaking maneuver and Ansel''s similar move the previous day. As the race unfolded, the commentary team shifted focus, diving into discussions about the Featured Race on Saturday."F2 at its absolute best!"


    "Trampos Racing''s implosion!"


    "From P1 to DNFs?!"


    "Teammates Turned Foes!"


    "Teammates no more?!"


    "Fighting for the spotlight!"


    "Trampos'' tragedy!"


    "Zero points in Riyadh?!"


    These were the most widespread phrases floating around among enthusiastic Formula racing fans. The buzz surrounding Trampos Racing was inescapable. The fallout from Riyadh was all anyone could talk about¡ªdespite Trampos being a Formula 2 team.


    Many hadn''t even watched the race live, dismissing it in favor of F1, but after hearing about the chaos, F2 Saturday''s Saudi Arabian Grand Prix had suddenly drawn more viewership than its premier counterpart. Enjoy exclusive adventures from empire


    The new social media platforms were ablaze with it, Sports shows ran endless loops of footage showing the now-infamous clashes between Luca and Ansel, replaying every overtaking attempt, every contact, and the final collision, which many claimed could have been fatal. However, Luca was completely fine, no problem to worry about.


    The Federation initially embraced the surge in attention that followed the collision, which skyrocketed the night of the incident and the following Sunday. However, they soon shifted their approach, working to downplay the situation. Sam Hamilton, stopped making further remarks, while Federation-owned press outlets softened the narrative to minimize the event''s impact. After all, severe crashes were not uncommon in the sport, and the Federation''s priority was to keep Formula 1 both exciting and at the top of global motorsport interest over Formula 2.


    Amid all the chaos, Miles Bellingham''s monumental achievement¡ªhis first F2 Grand Prix victory¡ªbarely received any attention. The dramatic night street race had ended in a way no one could have predicted. While the podium was occupied by skilled drivers, whose names many might have placed bets on, the absence of Luca and Ansel, who had been securely holding P1 and P2, was the most shocking twist.


    When the safety car was deployed a few minutes past 8:30 PM, the remaining drivers lined up behind it as the track was cleared. Luca''s wrecked Dallara was carefully towed away, and the scattered debris meticulously removed. Ansel''s damaged car followed, both vehicles taken back to the Trampos garage. Once the cleanup was complete, the red flags were lowered. Miles, who had been trailing Ansel by eight seconds before the crash, was suddenly thrust into the lead. He led the pack to the grid for the restart, which featured a single warm-up lap before the final showdown.


    By the end of the night, Miles had secured a victory, though the attention remained elsewhere. Only the loyal Squadra Corse Jnr fans celebrated his triumph, their cheers ringing out as the rest of the audience fixated on replay after replay of Luca and Ansel''s collision, particularly Luca''s dramatic crash.


    "...and Miles Bellingham takes P1. Max Addams follows after, and Sean Aaronson completes the podium."


    P1¡ªMiles Bellingham


    P2¡ªMax Addams


    P3¡ªSean Aaronson


    P4¡ªAlbert Derstappen


    P5¡ªDani Walding


    Just when it seemed the race had concluded and the surprises were over, the marshals made an announcement that reignited the buzz echoing through the city''s streets and buildings. Their review of the incident, which had dominated conversations everywhere, addressed several key points: the motive behind the collision, the sequence of events leading to the clash, the impact, the identification of the victim and the guilty party, and the appropriate penalty.


    The marshals'' findings were shared with Trampos Racing. According to their assessment, Ansel Hahn had pursued P1 with an overly aggressive maneuver, refusing to yield to his teammate, Luca Rennick, who had the racing line at that turn before the tunnel. The collision caused significant damage to both cars, nearly beyond repair. After careful deliberation, the marshals determined that while neither driver was entirely blameless, the primary fault rested with Ansel Hahn.


    Mr. Moritz and his fellow engineers took the information calmly. However, when they learned that Ansel had narrowly avoided a one-race ban and had instead been handed a penalty to start at the back of the grid for the next race, their calm demeanor faltered, replaced with visible frustration.


    No one could claim they hadn''t seen it coming¡ªnot even Ansel himself. As soon as he returned to the garage after the race, he swiftly changed out of his Veststar suit, put on a tracksuit, and left without uttering a single word. Since then, no one had seen or heard from him.


    Luca on the other hand? Luca was seated upright in a hospital bed, flipping through a newspaper that actually told him all these. It provided him with a detailed account of the events that had transpired the day before. It was Monday morning, and he had specifically requested the paper from one of the nurses attending to him.


    He was at the King Faisal Specialist Hospital in Riyadh''s Al Maather District, known for its state-of-the-art facilities and high-profile clientele. The hospital''s pristine white corridors, lined with glass panels and calming artworks, exuded modern sophistication. Luca had been admitted on Saturday''s night for observation after his high-impact collision, which had left him shaken.


    Upon arrival, he had been swiftly taken to the emergency unit, where a team of specialists conducted thorough scans and assessments. They had administered intravenous fluids to rehydrate him and prescribed mild painkillers for his sore muscles. Luca wasn''t given any update, but he was told he''d be this very morning, and this newspaper was also a way to pass time.


    Luca groaned softly, lowering the newspaper and glancing around the expansive hospital room. Perhaps the doctor had come and gone while he was too dazed to notice. But the room was silent, empty except for the faint hum of the air conditioning.


    He felt as though he''d lost an entire chunk of time¡ªmaybe 20 hours, give or take. No, he was certain of it! His system had confirmed as much the moment he woke up that morning, notifying him of what he''d missed.


    It had also given some very intriguing updates of himself Luca couldn''t ignore.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Host missed Sunday''s Daily Routine]


    [Host has missed Monday''s Daily Routine]


    [Detecting Host...]


    [... successfully detected!]


    [Ding!]


    [System detects host''s poor physical and health condition.]


    [Host''s enhanced and high Attributes helped reduce the severity of injuries sustained in the crash. Good job, host!] S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Host is now left with one major predicament.]


    [System detects a broken rib]


    What the¡ª?


    [System detects host will heal 67% faster]


    That is not gonna help, actually, Luca mused.


    [System has concluded detection]


    [Results: a broken rib¡ªthe 8th rib]


    Luca glanced down at his midsection, the dull ache intensifying now that his body had fully processed the extent of the damage. He lifted his hospital gown, revealing the thick, quadruple-layered bandage tightly wrapped around his ribs.


    He let out a dry scoff, dropping the gown back down over the bandages. He shook his head slowly, genuinely surprised about this new update. "Damn. Now something I didn''t see in the newspaper," he muttered. "And this 67% recovery estimate? What''s the actual timeline?"


    Before his system could finalize the calculation, the sound of the door swinging open drew his attention. He quickly deactivated the interface with a mental command as a doctor stepped into the room.


    The doctor was followed by two nurses who scurried into the room though he entered first. "Luca Rennick," the doctor greeted warmly in an Arabic accent. The kind that the speaker was very good with English. He was a tall man with silver-rimmed glasses and an air of calm authority.


    "Good morning," the nurses greeted. One of them approached Luca''s bed while the other left the room momentarily to wheel in a cart carrying medical supplies.


    The nurses conducted a series of routine checks on Luca, starting with his pupils and head for any signs of concussion or tenderness. They inspected his bandaged ribs for swelling or infection, adjusted the bindings, and ensured they were stable. Using a stethoscope, they confirmed clear lung sounds and no fluid build-up. His oxygen levels and blood pressure were measured, and basic mobility tests were done to assess his range of motion without causing strain.


    After they were done, they offered Luca a bowl of candies, and he accepted.


    "This is the first time a formula driver is in our grand hospital," the doctor said, nodding to the nurses who took their leave.


    Luca chuckled, savoring the nice taste of the candies.


    "I''ll give you a full update on your diagnosis and what we''ve treated you for so far. After that, we''ll monitor you for the next 24 hours for any complications, but everything looks stable for now. At the end of the day, the hospital will hand you over to Trampos Racing''s medical team, who will oversee the rest of your recovery and ensure you''re fit for the next steps," the doctor said.


    "Sounds good," Luca replied.

 Chapter 146 Fractured Momentum

    By evening, as the sky began to darken, Luca was visited by three people¡ªhis Team Principals, Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton, and Trampos'' head doctor, Mr. Ammermann.Luca was surprised to see them, and they, in turn, were relieved to find him awake and in good health. To Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton, he looked completely fine¡ªperhaps too fine for someone who had just suffered a DNF in the championship at the very moment he was about to make a decisive move to overtake Max Addams in the standings. Yet, despite everything, Luca smiled as if nothing had happened.


    The three adults stepped closer to Luca''s bedside, standing on either side as they greeted him. They informed him that his agent and PA had arrived at the hospital with them, but due to the strict access regulations in Saudi Arabia, only family members, Federation medical staff, hospital personnel, and Trampos'' key executives were allowed near his ward.


    Ms. Vallotton reassured Luca not to worry that she had already instructed Mallow and Sara to head to his hotel room. They would pack his belongings and handle anything else he might need, ensuring he had nothing to stress about.


    Luca nodded in appreciation before the conversation shifted to the real reason for their visit, beyond just checking on his condition.


    It was Mr. Ammermann who took the lead, getting straight to the important matters. He had already been briefed on Luca''s diagnosis and treatment plan, and now it was time to discuss the next steps.


    In summary, Ansel''s front wing had struck Luca''s car, denting the frame, which then smashed into his rib, breaking one of them. It was a serious injury, affecting essential bodily functions. Given the rib''s proximity to the lungs, any sudden strain or excessive movement could lead to further complications¡ªa punctured lung or internal bleeding. Even something as routine as taking a deep breath or twisting his torso could result in sharp, debilitating pain.


    But the most concerning aspect was how this would affect his driving.


    Driving at high speeds required a driver''s body to endure tremendous G-forces, especially during sharp turns, rapid accelerations, and hard braking. These forces would directly impact Luca''s rib cage if he drove, amplifying the discomfort. The persistent ache could lead to hesitation during critical moments, whether overtaking or navigating a high-stakes corner. Racing demanded consistency, and any distraction, no matter how small, could mean the difference between victory and failure.


    Mr. Ammermann cleared his throat and interlocked his fingers, his expression serious. "I''ve been informed that your recovery timeline was initially estimated at twelve weeks¡ªthree months," he began. "However, the hospital has noted your exceptional response to treatment. The duration has now been reduced to two months and could even be just one month if your recovery continues at this impressive pace."


    Luca felt a wave of relief wash over him. Three months away from the championship was a scenario he couldn''t afford. Fortunately, his system had expedited his recovery by an incredible 67%, bringing the timeline down to just one month. Missing an entire season with his current points tally would have been disastrous; his rivals would have easily surpassed him over three months, especially with three critical GPs remaining. But now, missing only one race seemed manageable. It wasn''t ideal, but it was a far cry from catastrophic.


    It was a big bummer as Luca remembered he wouldn''t have been in this condition if not for Ansel.


    As if sensing his thoughts, Mr. Ammermann continued, glancing at Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton, who had remained silent until now.


    "This could have been a much simpler fracture," he said, his voice measured. "Luca wouldn''t be in this condition if not for an incident six months ago¡ªwhen he was struck by a car. I still have the medical scans from the time he was signed into Trampos."


    Ms. Vallotton raised an eyebrow. "So, you''re saying this is related to an old injury?"


    "Yes, in a way," Mr. Ammermann replied, nodding. "What I mean is, injuries like this never truly heal to one hundred percent. The previous trauma to his ribs made them more susceptible to damage. While this fracture will heal, Luca will need to exercise caution with his ribs for the rest of his life. It''s what we call a chronic vulnerability¡ªa condition where, even after healing, the area remains prone to reinjury."


    Shi...it.


    Mr. Grant shook his head, frustration growing from the deepest of his core. He loathed every word that was spoken in the room because none of them were meant to be uttered, just as his star driver wasn''t supposed to be in this condition. Luca missing one Featured Race was like telling a pack of wolves to go hunt without the alpha. Trampos have completely adapted to Luca, and at crucial times like this, this was more than a predicament¡ªthis was a plague.


    Mr. Ammermann assured Luca he''d be up and running very soon in the next two weeks and a few days, and he''d begin to self-treat and also rest. He even made a remark about Luca needing rest after being so close to winning his fourth consecutive Grand Prix.


    From the start of tomorrow, the medical department would take over, ensuring Luca''s recovery remained on track.


    Meanwhile, Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton informed him that they had made arrangements for him to stay in Riyadh until he could walk very well without issues. Only then would he take a commercial flight back to Berlin.


    Luca and Mr. Grant rubbed their temple at the same time. Mr. Grant paused when Luca asked about Ansel. "What about Ansel?"


    "Ansel''s safe. He''s unscathed, he''s alright. He''s eager for your recovery, we all are," Ms. Vallotton replied with a soft smile. She turned to Ammermann. "Anything else?"


    "Yes," Mr. Ammermann said, moving forward to give Luca the clipboard he had in hand. "I would like you to see the routine you''d have to adapt for a quicker recovery."


    Luca glanced at the clipboard, noting the structured regimen laid out in meticulous detail.


    But before he could dive deeper, the hum of his system activated in his mind¡ªoverlaying the information with its own enhancements. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [System is analyzing and retrieving routine program issued to host.]


    Read new adventures at empire


    [DAY 1¡ª7: Rest and Recovery


    Complete rest: The first week would focus on allowing his rib to heal and avoid any strain. Strictly no physical exertion.


    Daily medications: Painkillers, anti-inflammatories, and supplements for bone healing (calcium and vitamin D).


    Breathing exercises: Five-minute sessions, three times a day, to strengthen the ribcage and maintain lung capacity. ]


    [DAY 8¡ª14: Initial Mobility Training


    Physiotherapy sessions: Light guided stretches and exercises to prevent stiffness and promote mobility.


    Hydrotherapy: Low-impact exercises in water to support gentle movement without strain.


    Low-intensity cycling: Stationary bike sessions for 10 minutes to maintain cardiovascular fitness. ]


    [WEEKS 3¡ª4: Strength and Endurance Training


    Core stability workouts: Resistance band exercises to rebuild strength in the abdominal and chest regions.


    Cardio progression: Gradual increase to 30-minute cycling sessions, focusing on endurance.


    Simulator training: One-hour sessions in the racing simulator to stay sharp mentally and familiarize himself with track layouts. ]


    [Ding!]


    [Successfully Retrieved!]


    [System would embed and edit host''s Daily Routine]


    Luca took a deep breath, his lungs straining as the very broken rib strained his abdomen. He looked up at the three adults glaring down at him with expectancy. "Uhmm. I''m sure I can do it," he said, handing Mr. Ammermann back the clipboard.

 Chapter 147 Securing The Future

    On the fourth day of Luca''s recovery, he woke to the soft chime of his system. However, just like the past three days, there was no instant Daily Routine notification that followed.Slowly, he sat up, mindful of the sharp twinge in his side¡ªa constant reminder of his broken rib. He had been sleeping on a large master bed, its frame creaking softly under his weight as he carefully swung his legs over the edge.


    "Argh! Damn it," Luca hissed as a sudden stab of pain shot through his side. The slight twist of his abdomen from the movement had aggravated his rib, forcing him to pause and steady his breathing.


    It took him a moment to gather himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before glancing at the bedside clock. 7:09 AM. He sighed, already dreading how long his fourth day of rest would feel. The previous three had been unending¡ªslow, groggy, and tedious.


    Luca''s room bore the appearance of a high-end hotel suite, but it wasn''t actually a hotel. The room was still located within the same facility that had hosted Trampos Racing during the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. This specialized building, now eerily quiet, accommodated only him and the medical team overseeing his recovery¡ªMr. Ammermann and his crew.


    The rest of the Trampos Racing team had departed for Berlin two days ago.


    Before their departure, nearly everyone had come to visit him multiple times. McCauley and the other engineers had been especially attentive, stopping by whenever they could. But despite their best efforts, their visits carried an undeniable heaviness, an unspoken sadness that Luca couldn''t ignore.


    The entire team wore their emotions on their sleeves, struggling to muster polite smiles. Ansel, in particular, had completely withdrawn. Luca had been told that his teammate had hardly spoken to anyone¡ªif he had spoken at all. When the team arrived in Berlin, McCauley called Luca with the same grim update.


    Luca shook his head, frustration creeping in. Even his repeated calls to Ansel had gone unanswered.


    What the hell was going through his teammate''s mind?


    After all, Ansel''s mistake had cost the team 45 points which was a critical buffer that would have extended their lead. To make matters worse, it had inflicted a short-term injury on Luca himself and attracted a heavy penalty on Ansel. Yet, Ansel remained silent, leaving Luca to speculate endlessly.


    The entire Trampos team had been quiet, even Mr. Grant. Luca couldn''t help but ponder the reasons behind this tension, beyond just the loss of their 45 points.


    Foremost in everyone''s mind, he was certain, was the reality that things would never return to the way they had been before the incident. No motorsport crew could realistically imagine him and Ansel working together again after such an incident. Intra-team breakdowns like this rarely mended. More often than not, they led to drivers going their separate ways¡ªthrough transfers, reassignment, or in the worst cases... outright releases.


    The second reason for the gloom, Luca figured, was his injury. As Player A, he was the cornerstone of Trampos Racing¡ªtheir best driver and a surefire contender for Formula 2 once he clinched the championship. But now, with his injury ruling him out of the incoming Qatar Grand Prix, Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton were left with no choice but to field Erik Haas to pair with Ansel, who, to make matters worse, would be starting at the back of the grid!


    Without a doubt, Trampos would lose their lead. Erik Haas had never finished higher than P5 in a Featured Race throughout his entire career, and expecting Ansel to climb from P30 to the top ranks of the leaderboard against such fierce competition was, frankly, unrealistic. Luca''s calculations suggested that, at best, Trampos would end the Qatari Grand Prix with just 4 to 8 points¡ªa catastrophic drop.


    What made this situation almost laughable was that Trampos Racing still held the championship lead heading into the 10th round of the season. Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr, sitting in second place, couldn''t close the gap even with Luca and Ansel''s double DNFs. The gap had been that significant.


    Still, Luca couldn''t recall the exact figures. He grabbed his phone to double-check.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -----------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 241


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 215


    3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 171


    4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 130 S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    5. | Retona Racing | 65


    A 26-point lead over Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr was almost guaranteed to collapse in Qatar. Luca took some solace in knowing that Squadra Corse Jnr would now shift their focus toward putting pressure on Velocit¨¤ Jnr. With Max Addams and Dani Walding now competing for the top spots, their tactics would likely become more balanced, rather than targeting Trampos Racing exclusively. The heightened competition would force them to spread their offense across the board.


    Luca powered off his phone and set it down, exhaling deeply as he rubbed his temples. The race for the championship was turning into a grueling battle, and he couldn''t help but feel the weight of it pressing down on him. The Qatari Grand Prix loomed large on the horizon, and after that, only two more races remained¡ªscheduled for October and November. Those final races, the defining Grand and Mega Prix, would determine the ultimate champions of the season.


    Knock! Knock!


    The soft rapping on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Luca glanced at the sleek, well-crafted door where the sound had come from.


    "I''m coming," he called, carefully pushing himself to his feet after minutes of deep reflection.


    He moved to the cloth hanger, grabbing his top and pulling it over his head before making his way to the door. His steps were filled with fatigue, and his side still ached. Luca could only imagine how the real pain was supposed to be considering his Attributes drastically reduced its effect.


    Luca opened the door to be greeted by the sight of Caitlyn, the head nurse. She was dressed in a casual nightgown like everyone else, not like catering for Luca needed a full medical outfit and instruments.


    Caitlyn, shorter than most of the nurses she managed, with her blonde hair and striking blue eyes, gave Luca a charming smile as she tilted her head. "Big man. Good morning," she greeted him warmly. "How are you holding up?"


    "I''m doing fine. And you?" Luca responded with a faint smile.


    "Great, thanks," Caitlyn said, stepping a little closer. "Any new pains or changes?" She motioned for him to lift his top.


    Luca obliged, exposing the bandages wrapped around his torso. "Nope. I''m getting better; I can feel it."


    "Good to hear," Caitlyn said with a nod, carefully inspecting the dressing before stepping back. "By the way, your team''s here. They want to have breakfast with you. You should join them."


    Luca smiled, thanking her. He already knew who this team was, and he was glad they had come to see him. He had been feeling lonely.


    Once Caitlyn walked away, he turned back inside to brush his teeth, slipping on a pair of flip-flops before stepping out into the grandiose hallway.


    Luca navigated his way to the dining, stopping a metre to its entrance when he began to hear whispers coming from the dining tables. He strained his ears, trying to catch the silent words of Mallow and Sara, but he couldn''t come up with anything. "What are you guys talking about?" Luca asked, revealing himself to Mallow and Sara, who were seated at one of the round dining tables in the large, empty dining. "And good morning too."


    Startled, Sara unintentionally replied Luca''s greeting with a loud voice. "How are you?" she asked, studying Luca''s step as he walked toward their table and picked a chair.


    "I''m doing fine," Luca replied, placing a hand on the table and the other on the back of a chair. Gently, he slid into the seat, exhaling softly as he settled in.


    Mallow, reclining lazily with his legs crossed, plucked a berry from the fruit bowl and nibbled on it. "You look like you''re heartbroken," he remarked. "I keep telling you to ease up on thinking about the track. Keep your mind healthy¡ªand your heart even healthier."


    "Yes, sire," Luca mock-saluted.


    Mallow smirked, then turned to Sara. "So, who''ll tell him?"


    Sara shrugged.


    "Tell me what? What were you guys whispering about? Good news? Bad news?"


    "No, no, no, it''s good news," Sara assured, her tone filled with excitement. "We were just waiting for the perfect moment to tell you."


    Luca began helping himself with the fruits on the table. He had this soft headache that was there but wasn''t surfacing, and a bite into the fruits seemed to strengthen its existence.


    "Is it the new house?" he guessed, glancing between them. "You guys finalized everything?"


    Mallow and Sara exchanged surprised glances.


    "How did you guess that correctly?" they both asked at the same time.


    Luca shrugged. "What other good news could there be right now? Unless I suddenly have a magically healed rib," he said, raising an eyebrow before turning to Mallow. "Besides, you flew back to Berlin and returned in just four days. Anyone with half a brain would figure it out."


    Mallow scoffed under his breath. "Smart ass," he muttered. Then, leaning down, he rummaged through a bag under his chair and pulled out a thick file. With a smirk, he slid it across the table to Luca.


    "Here," Mallow said. "I figured you''d want to see the official documents for your property."


    Nice!


    Luca picked up the file, scanning the most important details.


    Property Details:


    Owner: Luca Rennick


    Location: Am Fischtal 27, Dahlem, 14195 Berlin, Germany


    Structure: Modern house


    Ownership Rights: Sole Proprietor, Motorsport Driver¨C Luca Rennick


    Legal Formalities: Fully completed and notarized


    Purchase Breakdown:


    Property Cost: €38,000,000


    Taxes & Fees: €14,000,000 (€7,000,000)


    Total Paid: €21,000,000 Find more to read at empire


    Luca frowned slightly as he looked up at Mallow and Sara.


    "I thought you said the house was worth forty million dollars? I can see we only paid half of it."


    Mallow popped another grape into his mouth. "The file is for you to keep, and the transaction is for us to know. It''s a complicated process, and we don''t have time to explain right now."


    Sara scoffed. "Don''t mind him, Luca. It was a negotiation-heavy purchase. Think of it as us securing the property through a partial equity transaction, which will become permanent over time," she clarified.


    "I see," Luca murmured, closing the file and handing it to Sara. She''d keep the original while he would get a photocopy.


    "So, I officially own property now?"


    "Yes, you do," they both confirmed.


    "In fact, we''ve already started making arrangements to move into the house," Mallow added. "By the time we get back to Berlin, we''ll just need to move your personal stuff and fine-tune the setup to fit Hawthorne''s requirements. Any preferences? Furniture colors? Styling? Anything specific?"


    Luca shrugged. The house had looked perfect during the tour, and since it was going to be furnished in Hawthorne''s signature style, he trusted their judgment.


    "By the way," Luca said, leaning forward, "Mrs. Hawthorne called me yesterday. She wanted to check on me and even said a short prayer over the phone. I didn''t know she was that religious."


    "Well, let''s hope her prayer works and that we can still benefit from the contract with her," Mallow replied dryly. "You do realize we made nothing from the last race because of the crash, right?"


    Luca groaned, sinking back into his chair. His side twinged, and for a moment, he considered punching his own ribs, frustrated with what his teammate had done to him.


    "It''s alright, chap," Mallow said, tapping Luca''s arm. "You''ll get stronger, and we''ll get stronger too."


    Sara piped up, "How about a nice open house party when we''re back in Berlin?"


    Mallow scoffed. "And who''s supposed to attend? The teammate who nearly wrecked his career? Or the Trampos crew walking around like ghosts these days?"


    Luca sighed. "Yeah, not the best timing. I think I''ll just move in quietly, settle down as fast as possible, and train with Amir every day until I''m cleared for the track."


    [Ding!]


    [System has blocked Thursday''s Daily Quest notification!]


    [Ding!]


    [System advises host to take morning medication before 8:30 AM.]


    "We aren''t gonna eat just fruits, are we?" Luca asked.


    "Of course not," Sara replied, standing up. "Let me get something."

 Chapter 148 Securing The Future 2

    On the seventh day, Luca''s side was feeling much better, and he could make certain movements without experiencing the sharp pain that had plagued him since the moment Ansel''s front wing slammed into him. However, the abdominal muscles in that area had begun to strain, bringing on waves of discomfort even when he was completely still.Mr. Ammermann assured Luca that this was part of the healing process. The muscles, having been disrupted by the initial impact, were now in overdrive to repair themselves. Tiny tears and stress points in the muscle fibers¡ªcommon after trauma¡ªwere now regenerating. This repair process was necessary but also caused inflammation and an overcompensation of tension in the surrounding areas.


    "The strain isn''t unusual," Mr. Ammermann had told him.


    Luca sighed, wishing his body would heal faster, just as Mr. Ammermann had assured him it was. The thought of waiting out this discomfort made him restless, but what truly unsettled him was the way the medical team had started handling tasks he could usually manage on his own.


    He particularly disliked them helping out with his laundry. It made him feel weak, even though, literally... he was. Luca valued his independence fiercely because he had grown with it ever since the better half of his life. Seeing them handle things he ought to do constantly reminded him of what had caused the crash.


    Three weeks left, at least. Happy new month to him¡ªit was September 4th now, but he still couldn''t shake off the frustration of waiting for his body to recover. His injury couldn''t heal fast enough, especially for the sake of his mother.


    She was devastated, and he could hear it in her voice every time she called. She''d called twenty times in seven days, and Luca wouldn''t be surprised if his phone rang again with her name flashing on the caller ID.


    Mrs. Rennick was devastated when she heard the news of her son''s crash in Riyadh. Luca couldn''t fault her reaction; as her only son, he was practically the center of her happiness, her primary source of joy in life. She had narrated that the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was the one race she decided not to watch¡ªof all races, it had to be the one where he tumbled and smashed into the barriers.


    That evening, exhausted from work, she had opted to skip the broadcast and head straight to bed, leaving Sophia, who was still awake, to catch her up the next morning. But at eight o''clock, Sophia burst into her room, her face pale and frantic, waking her with the devastating news: Luca had crashed.


    Mrs. Rennick frequently asked Luca if she could fly to Berlin to care for him, but Luca refused every time. He believed her presence would only hinder his recovery and amplify the feelings of helplessness he was already struggling to suppress. This morning was no different¡ªLuca firmly insisted for the twentieth time that she stay in London, reassuring her once again that he was healing just fine.


    However, when she asked him to promise that he would never crash again in his career, Luca stayed silent. He wasn''t sure he could promise that.


    Max Addams had crashed in Barcelona. Ansel had crashed in Budapest. Crashes were an inevitable part of the sport, one of the reasons it held such allure. To Luca, it was the thrill of drivers pushing themselves to the absolute limit, racing on the edge of danger, that captivated spectators and elevated Formula racing to one of the most exhilarating sports in the world.


    As he glanced down at his bandaged abdomen, Luca couldn''t help but wonder if this would be the last injury of his career. Perhaps the development of his Attributes would shield him from future accidents... or perhaps more injuries awaited him on the road ahead.


    [Ding!]


    [Host has completed Day 1-7 of the routine programme!]


    "Yup. No more of those bad-tasting meds," Luca muttered, slipping his feet into a pair of slides. He reached for a button-up shirt instead of a T-shirt¡ªpulling anything over his head still tugged uncomfortably at his healing abdomen, and he wasn''t about to let anyone help him with something so trivial.


    Today marked their return to Berlin. His team, along with Trampos'' medical department, was heading back to base. Sara and Mallow had mentioned they''d stop at headquarters to pick up his belongings and help him settle into his new home. So, today, Luca will officially move in.


    Once he finished buttoning up, he took a quick glance around his room. Most of his belongings had already been packed, but there were still a few small things left for him to gather.


    Finally, Luca exited the room to join Mr. Ammermann and the rest. Their flight was shared with Sara and Mallow, and they all boarded the small passenger plane around 7 a.m.


    The atmosphere on board was calm, almost subdued. The hum of the engines was the only sound filling the cabin. Luca leaned against the window, staring out at the vast expanse of sky. The skyline below gradually disappeared as the plane ascended, leaving only endless clouds and the distant shimmer of the sun.


    Luca let himself drift into thought as the clouds passed by, their slow movement mirroring the weight in his mind. It helped him pass the time, even when he unknowingly dozed off, lost in the quiet embrace of sleep.


    Unfortunately, a direct flight wasn''t available, stretching the journey longer than Luca had anticipated. With a brief stop in Istanbul, Turkey, it took them a full ten hours to return to Berlin.


    By now, Luca was accustomed to these sporadic travels¡ªso much so that even Turkey, a place he once thought would intrigue him, barely held his interest. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was his lingering thoughts. His mind was still lost in reflection, and his aching abdominal muscles did little to spark any sense of enthusiasm.


    At 5:30 PM, they finally arrived in Berlin, having spent most of the day in the air. Without delay, Sara, Mallow, and Luca followed the Trampos medical team straight to the headquarters.


    It was Sunday, which explained the eerie quiet that surrounded the facility. The roads were nearly empty, save for the uniformed guards patrolling the premises. The only sounds were the constant hum of the security gates opening as they cleared each arriving visitor.


    "I believe there''s not much to pack from your space?" Mallow asked as their SUV smoothly rolled into the parking lot.


    "Yeah," Luca replied, gazing at the stillness that enveloped Trampos. The SUV''s tinted windows cast a darker hue over the sky, making it appear even gloomier above the buildings¡ªa perfect reflection of the somber mood that weighed on every crew member. "Just a few clothes, my personal bag, and my shoes. Everything personal, I think," he added. The reality of not residing in the HQ anymore still hadn''t fully settled in.


    "Alright," Mallow said as Sara carefully parked. The trunk of the SUV hummed open as she activated it. "You''ll stay here. I''ll pack," Mallow added, already stepping out.


    Luca scoffed, pushing his door open as well, ignoring Mallow''s attempt to keep him still. A broken rib wasn''t reason enough to just sit back while someone else packed up his things¡ªespecially not when this was his final moment in the place he had called home.


    Mallow turned to protest, but stopped when Luca climbed out, his careful movements still betrayed the discomfort of his abdomen he was trying to hide. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mr. Ammermann had one final discussion with Luca about his recovery, outlining the steps he needed to take in the coming weeks. Once finished, he and his team of five nurses made their way toward the medical department building.


    From the horizon, a small group of crew members had gathered, stepping out to welcome the returning team. Their faces lit up with relief at the sight of Luca, their top driver, moving with minimal signs of the serious injury he had suffered.


    Mallow caught Luca staring as they approached. He tapped Luca softly on the shoulder. "C''mon, mate. Don''t stress it. Go greet them one last time while I pack."


    Explore new worlds at empire


    Luca managed a small smile before walking over to the group. As he approached, their expressions softened as some held pride, others with unspoken concern.


    Seeing him upright, moving on his own, eased the quiet worry they had all carried. For days, the garage had felt different and emptier, like something vital was missing. Trampos was definitely not like this before right after the incident, and seeing Luca gave the team hope that things might start to mend themselves.


    Once Luca reunited with the team, Mallow tossed his keys into the air, caught them effortlessly, and strode off toward Luca''s accommodation. Darkness was approaching, and he moved with urgency, determined to finish packing quickly.


    Luca, meanwhile, turned his attention to the small group of crew members who had come to welcome him back. Though they weren''t high in the hierarchy to be aware of deeper team decisions as Luca had asked, yet their warmth was genuine. Their expressions carried relief, seeing him moving steadily with little sign of the injury that had once left him struggling to stand.


    Luca chatted with the team for a bit, but when he caught Mallow dragging a bag down the steel stairs and across the lot, he knew it would soon be time to go. He wrapped things up and walked toward his accommodation.


    For months, he had been eager to leave this place. The routine, the pressure, the walls that felt smaller every day. Now, as he stood here, he wished he could stay just one more night.


    Listening to the team repairing the cars, the sharp hisses of air guns tightening bolts, clatter of wrenches and loud instructions called over the rumble of machines usually put him in focus every moment, reminding him of his every goal.


    Luca stopped at the doorway, watching as Mallow pulled out the last of his things. The room looked empty now.


    Luca walked toward his drawer and pulled it open. A hundred sketches of telemetry lay scattered inside, drawn during the peak of his racecraft program. A few coupons from the many countries he had visited were tucked between them, but his fingers searched for something else... the one particular photo he was looking for.


    He found it. A picture of him, Ansel, and some Trampos fans back in Monte Carlo, taken after their spectacular win in Stellar. That victory had earned them 45 points, a testament to their teamwork.


    Luca smiled at the photo. It was the only one he consciously recalled taking. The rest had likely been snapped by the press without him even noticing.


    When Mallow reentered the room for a last check, Luca held up the photo for him to see. "I''d like to frame this."


    Mallow, who had been scanning the room, shifted his focus to the picture¡ªAnsel holding the Monaco Grand Prix trophy, Luca biting his second-place medal while posing with a dozen Trampos fans.


    "Sure. There are plenty of empty frames at the house," Mallow said. "We''ll fix it when we get there."


    Luca nodded, pocketing the photo and following Mallow out without a final glance at the room.


    They walked down the steel stairs and crossed the large space toward the parking lot.


    Luca waved the crew goodbye as Sara started the SUV without delay.


    "Watch your step," Sara cautioned as Luca eased into the car.


    He exhaled, shutting the door with a quiet click before glancing once more at the headquarters through the tinted window. The familiar sight blurred as the SUV rumbled to life. Sara reversed smoothly out of the parking box, made a swift turn, and steered toward the gate.


    The sky deepened into a darker shade as they cruised toward Dahlem, the streetlights casting elongated streaks along the road. Luca wondered how much time they''d have to unpack and settle in before the night fully took over. However, Mallow reassured him that the movers had already set up most of his essentials¡ªabout 70%¡ªso he could head straight to bed and leave the rest for tomorrow.


    Up ahead, a grand contemporary mansion stood against the evening skyline, its sleek glass fa?ade catching the last traces of daylight. The city''s soft glow reflected off its surface, shifting with every turn of the car. Luca recognized it instantly. He had been here before¡ªjust once¡ªbut that was enough to know they were close to the neighbourhood.

 Chapter 149 Steps To Return

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...][Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Personal Information:


    Name: Luca Rennick


    Age: 18


    Nationality: Italian ]


    --------------------------------------


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 71 kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 32%


    Strength: 25


    Stamina: 30


    Endurance: 26


    Agility: 26


    Intelligence: 21]


    ----------------------------------------


    [Personal Stats:


    Nickname: None


    Status: 6 year contract


    Salary: $636,000


    Team: Trampos Racing


    Race Win: 3


    Podium Finishes: 5


    Pole Positions: 2]


    -------------------------------------------


    [Skills & Techniques: Total Grade - A


    Pitstop Prodigy: 11


    Corner Chopping: 10


    Straightaway Chopping:8


    Spatial Awareness : 6


    Night Mastery: 3


    Grid Launch: 4


    Slipstream Mastery: 6


    Side-by-Side King: 4


    Others (Completed)


    Others (Locked) ]


    -----------------------------------------------


    [Displaying Completed Skills...]


    [... listing resumed]


    [Reflexes: 20 (+2)


    Overtaking Skill: 20 (+6)


    Track Awareness: 20 ] Experience more on empire


    ------------------------------------------


    Luca had asked his system to display his profile stats while he went to open the gate for Amir, who had just arrived. As the interface hovered in front of him, he left the grand door behind, stepping down the short white stairs and onto the well-manicured lawn¡ªan expanse so wide it could almost be mistaken for a private field.


    "Thanks," he muttered to the system, dismissing the display. He pulled his housecoat tighter around himself as a sharp breeze rushed through, rustling the towering oak trees that lined his compound. The wind carried the first true bite of the season''s change, billowing his coat and tousling his hair to the side. Luca bit his lip, casting a brief glance at the gray, dull sky that stretched down. "Summer''s gone," he said to himself, wondering if the autumn''s features would affect the leaves in his compound. Luca would have no time to rake anything.


    Finally, Luca reached the iron gate and pushed it open, revealing Amir standing at the curb. Amir''s eyes widened instantly at the sight of Luca, the vast lawn, and the massive, modern white home behind him.


    "And here I was, thinking I had the wrong address!" Amir exclaimed.


    Luca chuckled, gesturing for him to come in. He stepped out of the gate briefly to pick up the daily newspaper, which was usually placed beside the gates for all the residents in the neighborhood. He found it neatly folded and picked it up, pausing for a moment to take in the picturesque surroundings of his new home. Luca wondered if any of his few neighbors knew he was a motorsport athlete. If they did, perhaps he would have received a proper welcome¡ªmaybe a cake, cookies, or at least a friendly introduction. So far, no one had come knocking.


    Reentering, Luca closed the gate behind him. "Come in," he said to Amir, who stood in the middle of the greenery, gawking at the house, his eyes tracing from the roof down to the foundation.


    Amir gulped and followed Luca toward the door.


    It''s been four days since Luca moved into the house he transactionally bought for an estimate of forty million in dollars. This was to be his home in Berlin, Germany, for as long as he remained a driver for Trampos Racing. The neighborhood was secure, with every resident being either wealthy or renowned, making it a fitting choice for Luca.


    He had already begun Week 2 of his recovery routine, incorporating simple exercises and stretches to prevent stiffness and support mobility, both in and out of water. So far, his progress had been steady, and with cardiovascular fitness next on the list, Luca felt it was time to start using some gym equipment.


    This was precisely why Amir was here today. Luca couldn''t risk training alone in the gym while still not at full strength. In case of an emergency, having a second person to help lessen the weight, power, or strain of any exercise was crucial. Amir was here for that¡ªand more.


    With a fully equipped gym in Luca''s home, stocked just yesterday with all the necessary machines and tools, both Luca and Amir were eager to begin this new phase.


    Once they entered the house, Amir even became more shocked and amazed by the opulence of it all. The white walls appealed to the striking design that followed with the well-furnished furniture that he couldn''t tell which brand. Little did he know it was specially made for Hawthorne families and their grand ambassadors. The lobby seemed big enough to be a living room, and the living room itself?! A parking lot!


    Luca offered Amir something to eat, but he refused, saying they should get right to work. So, Luca led him to his gym.


    Amir knew he''d be coming here from time to time, so accepting a meal on his first visit would be too presumptuous. Instead, he followed Luca down a sleek hallway where he could see a pristine staircase that spiralled to the top floor. Amir wondered what was even up there. Bedrooms? There was enough space for that down here!


    "Let me see it," Amir said once they settled into the gym. He gestured for Luca to reveal his bandaged abdomen, wanting to assess the injury himself. Understanding its condition firsthand would help him strike the right balance¡ªpushing for progress without overexerting.


    The gym was completely white and the black equipments styled the intended design. Two big windows gave good light into the huge room even though the sky was dull. On a sunny day, the sun rays would stream in and bathe the tiles, thereby making the gym even more brighter.


    Luca stood before Amir, exhaling slightly as he gently pulled off his top, revealing the neatly double-layered bandage wrapped around his midsection. Caitlyn had stopped by two days ago to change it, easing some of the discomfort, but Luca could still feel hollow down there.


    Amir gave a slight nod, flipping through the medical routine Luca had handed him. "Still bothering you?"


    "It doesn''t hurt anymore," Luca said, flexing his fingers against his side as he gestured around the bandage. "But it... pulls. A lot of tension around here."


    "Alright," Amir said with a clap. "We''ll start easy. I hope you haven''t been overworking yourself? I just watched the collision the other day, and wow, that didn''t look good, my friend."


    "Nope. I''ve been resting. Haven''t stepped out all week."


    Amir narrowed his eyes. "Staying home doesn''t mean you haven''t been stressing yourself. No errands? No schedules? No plans?"


    Luca shrugged as he pulled on his gym gear. "Nothing physical, if that''s what you mean. I do have a schedule today, but it''s far from any exertion."


    As Amir wandered around, he took in the sleek, state-of-the-art gym equipment. Everything was modern, high-end, and meticulously arranged. His gaze stopped at an oddly empty space that seemed like it was missing something.


    "What''s this space for?" he asked, turning back to Luca.


    Luca adjusted his gloves, his palms constantly damp from the slight nerves he''d been having lately. "Oh, that? It''s for my simulator. Ordered one, should arrive within the week or next."


    Amir''s eyebrows shot up, and suddenly, he started clapping. "Kudos! Kudos! You are the man, Luca!" He shook his head in disbelief. "A simulator? That''s next level!"


    Then, his expression turned determined as he snatched the fitness routine paper. "You know what? How can that midsection trouble you and limit your actions?! Let''s deal with it right now!"


    He tapped the sheet. "Treadmill and Stationary Bike! Let''s go!"


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [System is analyzing and retrieving training program issued to host.]


    [Walking On A Treadmill analyzed]


    [Stationary Bike analyzed]


    [Ding!]


    [Successfully Retrieved!]


    [ACTIVITY: WALKING ON A TREADMILL]


    [EQUIPMENT: FLAT TREADMILL]


    [Host will walk at a steady pace, maintaining proper posture and controlled breathing to promote cardiovascular endurance and muscle recovery.] S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [This will be done for 15¨C20 minutes at a low intensity, focusing on mobility, circulation, and gradual reconditioning of the body.]


    "Okay. Let''s begin."


    Luca stepped onto the treadmill, adjusting his posture as he placed his hands lightly on the side rails. Even though it was his first time using the gym equipments in his home, he was familiar with their mechanism and how to operate them.


    Once the machine''s sleek interface flickered to life and displayed his dormant stats, Amir helped set the speed at a comfortable place he believed would suit right for Luca. And so, the belt hummed beneath Luca, prompting him to take his first steps, striding carefully.


    Luca kept his steps light. The sensation of controlled motion was oddly grounding, forcing him to tighten his core instinctively as he braced himself for the strain in his abdomen that might come with this exercise.


    When Amir noticed Luca wasn''t being loose and free, he instructed him to do so, saying it was the best way for effectiveness. Luca complied and let his arms swing naturally, focusing on even breaths. Slowly and subtly, the muscles he feared began to ache and pulse as he walked.


    Luca quickly voiced his discomfort to Amir, but Amir insisted he pushed on, advising him to focus and listen to the hum of the machine and perhaps even the rustle of the leaves outside.


    Luca tried his best and fortunately, his attempt was not in vain. He managed to finish the activity, his abdomen burning to the core.


    "Good job," Ansel congratulated Luca, helping him sit comfortably on the benches. "If we continue at this pace. Those muscles would get used to the toughness you''re giving em. And they''d obey very soon."


    [Good job, host. Moving on to the next.]


    [ACTIVITY: SEATED CYCLING]


    [EQUIPMENT: STATIONARY BIKE]


    [Host will pedal at a controlled pace, maintaining steady resistance to enhance cardiovascular endurance and lower-body strength while minimizing strain on the core.]


    [This will be done for 10¨C15 minutes at low intensity, focusing on mobility, circulation, and gradual recovery.]


    If Luca thought he couldn''t endure the walking on the treadmill, he wouldn''t have even considered the seated cycling, which, despite offering support, demanded more effort from his legs and core to maintain a steady pace.


    He could hardly breathe! He wheezed, in fact.


    Every push of the pedal sent an uncomfortable jolt up his thigh, rippling through his sides and shooting up his arms, making each movement feel like a struggle against his very own body!


    At the 9th minute, Amir noticed Luca was pushing himself a little too hard on the bike and might collapse if he kept at it. Quickly assessing the situation, he called it a day, helping the wheezing young man off the bike and administering painkillers as fast as he could.


    "The pain means it''s working, right?" Luca asked, breathless, his voice strained and hoarse.


    "Most likely," Amir replied, though there was a hint of uncertainty. "But it could also mean other things. Either way, I think this is enough for today. By tomorrow, your body should start to understand the purpose behind this, and it''ll begin to cooperate."


    Luca nodded, relaxing and letting out a deep breath. Luca wondered If this could all magically stop if he could get an apology from Ansel.


    "Are you alright now?" Amir asked, ready to leave.


    "Yes. Let me see you out," Luca said, starting to rise, but Amir stopped him.


    "Don''t worry about it. Relax. I''ll find my way out," Amir said, glancing around the room. "The living room is through the door to the left, right?"


    Luca gave a faint smile. "Good memory."


    "Thanks," Amir said, walking towards the door. "Goodbye, my friend."


    The sound of the door closing behind Amir echoed through the house, leaving Luca in the quiet solitude of the gym. He listened for the faint click of the front door and the hum of the gate before he inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. His eyes wandered around the gym, taking in the stillness.


    "So, system. Was there progress?"


    [Definitely, host!]


    [Every exercise and activity you perform counts. There is always progress.]


    Luca nodded and rose to his feet, ready to continue with the rest of his day. He planned to take the long staircase to the upper floor, take a bath, freshen up, and prepare for his scheduled meeting at 3 p.m.


    It was a meeting related to Trampos Racing.


    A few days ago, Mr. Fisher had called, expressing his sympathy for Luca''s injury. He had proposed addressing the situation and providing Luca with top-level information regarding Trampos Racing''s next steps following the incident in Riyadh.


    A video conference had been arranged, where Luca would communicate with Mr. Fisher, Mrs. Doyle, and a few other board members¡ªsome of whom rarely made an appearance. During this call, they would discuss several matters, including what they expected from Luca upon his immediate return.


    The house was quiet and peaceful as Luca took a satisfying bath in his private bathroom. Once done, he applied a quality skincare routine to his face and styled his hair.


    Dressed in a white Trampos t-shirt, Luca tucked his laptop under his arm and walked down the upper hallway to the second living room, the spot he had chosen for the conference call.

 Chapter 150 Qatari Grand Prix

    Being the third Grand Prix he''d miss this season, Luca had a lot of speculations concerning the final results and points after this evening in Qatar.Once again, the motorsport world had gathered in a Middle Eastern nation¡ªone steeped in elegance and rich history, much like Saudi Arabia. But unlike the Riyadh Zenith Circuit, a street circuit that carved through the capital, the Al Rihla Circuit stood as a grand stadium of its own, akin to the Hungaro Ring. Yet, what set Al Rihla apart was its cutting-edge design, making it one of the newest and most visually striking circuits in all of motorsport.


    A shame he wouldn''t get to tear across its fresh asphalt. He''d heard that this circuit had only been constructed a few years ago, following the abandonment of the Sahara Crescent Circuit in Al Rayyan. That track, notorious for its high crash count, had been deemed too dangerous after a generation of racing incidents. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Now, in the capital, Doha, Formula 1 and Formula 2 had arrived for the weekend showdown¡ªso had Luca and Mallow.


    Luca knew he couldn''t bear to sit at home and watch the race unfold from his living room. So instead, he booked an early flight with Mallow, secured a stay in one of Doha''s grand hotels, and got tickets to the 95,000-capacity circuit, determined to witness the action firsthand.


    Luca had initially applied to watch the race from the paddock, hoping to arrive with the team, take part in pre-race preparations, and sit alongside them as the event unfolded. To his surprise, Mr. Fisher had flatly refused, insisting that Luca needed not just physical recovery but complete detachment from racing for the same duration. In other words, until he was fully healed, he wasn''t to be seen in a Veststar uniform, wearing a team cap¡ªor any team attire at all.


    And so, instead of standing among his crew in the paddock, Luca now found himself seated in the grandstands, specifically in Section 4, where the wealthiest and most influential spectators gathered to witness the spectacle in unparalleled luxury.


    As he had done countless times over the past weeks, any brief moment of silence or solitude sent Luca spiraling into a storm of thoughts. Seated there, watching the grand circuit fill to capacity, flags waving, and the crowd roaring with anticipation, his mind inevitably drifted back to Trampos¡ªparticularly to the most pressing issue discussed between him and the board just days ago.


    An issue so significant that its mere announcement had sent shockwaves through the motorsport world, rippling through every Formula 2 news outlet. Right now, in the grandstands, whether Trampos supporters or rival fans, the conversation was undoubtedly the same.


    Ansel wouldn''t be starting on the grid today.


    And no, it wasn''t due to a start-at-the-back-of-the-grid penalty which Trampos might have just decided not to play him at all. No¡ªAnsel wouldn''t be starting for Trampos in the Qatari Grand Prix or any of the remaining races this season.


    Because the board had suspended him.


    "¡­Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the highly anticipated Formula 2 Qatari Grand Prix at the stunning Al Rihla Circuit!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...we are honored to introduce our esteemed Guest of Honor¡ªone of Qatar''s most influential figures, a true visionary and a key leader in the nation''s development. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome His Excellency Sheikh Tameem Al-Fayrouz, the esteemed Minister of State!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s eyes drifted to the glass rooms as the aged Qatari man rose to his feet and waved to the crowd.


    "...the Formula 2 Qatari Grand Prix will begin in the next hour!"


    A Grand Prix were neither Luca nor Ansel would participate in, but Haas and Victor.


    Luca wondered if Victor was even prepared for this, as no one anticipated Ansel''s suspension. Not even Ansel, Luca was certain.


    Mr. Fisher and Mrs. Doyle had explained it as a necessary disciplinary measure¡ªone that had been brewing since the disastrous collision between Luca and Ansel weeks ago. That crash, which had sent Luca down the track and into the barriers, wasn''t just an unfortunate racing incident. It had been the direct result of Ansel ignoring team orders, refusing to follow the new strategy, and ultimately compromising both his race and Luca''s safety.


    At first, the team had been hesitant to act. Ansel was their star driver, after all, a championship contender. But the backlash had been immediate, and the board needed to make a statement to prevent any repetition.


    Luca was told he''d pair with Haas for the 11th and 12th rounds, while Haas and Victor would live it out in Qatar this afternoon. Was Victor even ready? He had no choice but to be.


    Luca exhaled slowly, staring blankly at the pristine asphalt of the Al Rihla Circuit.


    So much had changed in just a few weeks. One moment, he was fighting for the title; the next, he was on the sidelines, nursing fractured ribs, witnessing his teammate-turned-rival suffer the consequences of his own arrogance.


    Luca had always wanted to keep in touch with everyone and find out what might be up with Ansel at the moment, but the group chat they''d created had gone dry, and the last messages were those sent before August 14th.


    Visiting Ansel was out of the picture, Luca had promised himself he wouldn''t do that again.


    The screen facing his section flickered to life as broadcasting officially began from Al Rihla Circuit, Doha. The first information that was displayed was the teams'' standings which Luca already knew, but when the drivers'' standings came next, he sat up to get a closer look.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -------------------------------------


    1. | Max Addams | 145


    2. | Luca Rennick | 126


    3. | Miles Bellingham | 119


    4. | Ansel Hahn | 115


    5. | Sean Aaronson | 111


    "Pretty bad," Mallow whispered beside him, his eyes scanning the updated standings on the table.


    Update 1: Miles had now climbed into the top three, pushing Ansel down to fourth.


    Update 2: Ansel''s 115 points were now final. No more races, no more chances to score. With his suspension, his championship hopes were officially over. He would NOT be lifting that trophy.


    Luca clenched his fist at the thought. It shouldn''t have ended like this for Ansel. Even though they were competitors chasing the same title, watching his friend slip out of contention so abruptly was disheartening.


    Update 3: Max Addams now had a comfortable 19-point lead over Luca. And with Luca''s absence in this Qatari Grand Prix, that lead would inevitably increase, slimming Luca''s chance at the final trophy. In fact, it was predicted that Max Addams would win his second consecutive F2 Championship Trophy.


    Luca hoped it wasn''t too late. A 19-point lead was a very big one, and only the miracles he performed with his system could close it down. Experience more tales on empire


    "...P5, Oliver Kristensen...!"


    "...P4, Max Addams...!''


    "...P3, Sean Aaronson...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...P2, Miles Bellingham...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...Pole Position, Albert Derstappen...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    Two Squadra Corse Jnr drivers starting at P1 and P2 was a lethal set up. Luca wondered what qualifying activity was carried out to give the grid this structure. He sure hoped Miles and Derst could do something to keep Max away from top points.

 Chapter 151 10th Round Absence

    before the feature race began, a special announcement was made on behalf of luca rennick, the injured f2 driver. it was a gesture of support for his recovery, and as the message echoed through the circuit speakers, the entire trampos fanbase rose to their feet. applause and cheers erupted across the grandstands, a collective show of encouragement. luca waved back to the crowd."...and it''s always heartbreaking to see a driver sidelined due to injury. especially one as promising as luca rennick, who was in stellar form before his unfortunate incident with ansel hahn in the saudi arabian grand prix."


    "...luca was delivering some of his strongest performances this season before his crash, and you have to imagine how frustrating it must be for him to sit out while the championship battle continues without him. we hope to see him behind the wheel again, and back in action in formula 2!"


    luca lowered his hands once the cameras left him. he smiled around the section he was seated before adjusting his bland cap, and settled in for the race with ten minutes till lights out.


    "the doctor said you''re recovering faster. less than two weeks now, right?" mallow asked.


    "yeah," luca replied, his gaze fixed on the 5km circuit that would host 60 laps this afternoon. he exhaled, then turned to mallow, narrowing his eyes. "i''m not on the grid today," he murmured, before his attention shifted to the piece of paper in mallow''s hand. his brow lifted slightly. "alright, who did you bet on this time?"


    mallow chuckled¡ªthen burst into full laughter. "ahh, buddy, you don''t wanna know." sear?h the nov§×lf~ire.net website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    luca smirked. "just say it. max? miles?"


    "nope. derstappen."


    "derstappen?" luca''s expression twisted with mild surprise. "why are you so confident he''s getting his first grand prix win today?"


    mallow frowned, shaking his head. "i really don''t get how people just forget who albert derstappen used to be!"


    "he''s a good driver, i know that, but¡ª"


    "do you know he was this close to getting promoted to the senior team?" mallow cut in. "then came the fallout, and yeah, maybe it messed with his performance. but today? he''s on pole. if he keeps it clean, he can absolutely finish there."


    his tone was brimming with confidence, and the snug smirk he shot at luca said it all¡ªhe was putting his money on derstappen, no second thoughts.


    luca was about to speak again when mallow cut him off with a sharp glance, subtly tilting his head toward someone approaching.


    "¡­five minutes till lights out!"


    "woooohh!"


    luca turned to his right, where a distinguished man was making his way toward them. he was tall, with an air of effortless wealth and authority, dressed in an impeccably tailored navy-blue suit that contrasted against the golden cufflinks glinting under the midday sun. his silver-streaked hair was neatly combed back, and his sharp, aristocratic features carried the confidence of a man who was used to commanding attention without demanding it.


    at his side was a young woman. one luca placed to be his wife or his daughter. she looked too young and alluring to be his wife, so luca guessed she was his daughter.


    it seemed they were planning on taking the seats next to luca.


    mallow''s lips curled slightly, recognizing the man immediately. "well, that''s jacques lema?tre and his daughter. he''s one of the owners of squadra corse," he muttered under his breath.


    "which squadra corse are we talking about? senior or junior?" luca asked, admiring the man''s aura.


    "luca, for heaven''s sake, same owners and same management, different crew," mallow shot as quickly as he could before mr. lema?tre could fully arrive.


    mr. lema?tre smiled as he reached them, his presence naturally commanding respect. "gentlemen," he greeted smoothly, his voice rich and steady. his accent carried the faintest trace of old-money european elegance. "enjoying the spectacle?"


    "yes, we are," mallow said. "you came to join us?"


    "certainly," mr. lema?tre replied smoothly. "i see a few open seats beside mr. rennick, so my daughter, margot, and i might help ourselves. shall we?"


    luca nodded, watching as the two elegantly took their seats.


    as soon as they settled, mallow leaned in close to luca and murmured, "maybe he''s here to slowly ease you into a potential transfer to squadra corse."


    luca kept his expression neutral, pretending not to hear. the thought had crossed his mind, but he doubted it. moreover, moving to an f1 into a team like squadra corse would be underwhelming, as he really didn''t like them, so it wasn''t really a bright idea.


    still, he expected mr. lema?tre to steer the conversation toward something significant. and soon enough, he did.


    the grid was set. albert derstappen''s black-and-gold dallara sat at the pole position, its engine snarling with anticipation. behind him, miles bellingham was primed for the attack, while aaronson occupied the next box.


    the tension in the grandstands peaked as the five red lights flickered on one by one. the roar of the crowd mixed with the high-pitched revving of engines, creating an electric atmosphere.


    "...lights out. race on!"


    as the field launched forward, the qatari grand prix was officially underway.


    and right then, mr. lema?tre turned to luca.


    ------------------------


    [system online...]


    [ding!]


    [host''s personal information has changed!]


    [please review status as soon as possible]


    knock knock knock!


    luca''s brows furrowed as he stirred awake, blinking against the dim morning light filtering through his room. his mind churned sluggishly, still caught between sleep and reality.


    what the heck?


    the knocking came again, firm and deliberate. his confusion deepened. he lived alone in a multi-million-dollar home¡ªgated, with restricted access. no one should be inside, let alone standing at his bedroom door. who would have had access to his home and was knocking on the door of his own bedroom?!


    luca closed his system''s interface and carefully rolled out of his big bed, still mindful of his injury that was now healing. he could move without any strain or pain, and now, mr. ammermann said he should still take it easy for full recovery in order not to reverse the progress by stressing his body with physical exertion.


    knock knock knock


    thieves? no. why would thieves knock?


    luca walked across his spacious room, his mind still sluggish from sleep. his bedroom was located on the top floor of the house. the walls were a deep, matte black with ambient led strip lighting along the edges, giving the space a sleek, futuristic feel like he wanted. he had one floor-to-ceiling window and a regular sized mirror. the king-sized bed he had just left was covered in charcoal-gray sheets, to the right was a good workspace and to the left was a walk-in closet.


    knock. knock. knock.


    "who''s there?!" luca called out, his voice sharp with caution.


    "us!" came the enthusiastic reply.


    he immediately recognized the voices¡ªsara and mallow.


    "open up!"


    luca exhaled, shaking off the remnants of sleep. right. sara had a spare key to his house. he should have realized it was them, but waking up groggy to unexpected knocking had thrown him off.


    running a hand through his tousled hair, he wandered to the door. twisting the knob, he pulled it open to find his pa and agent standing there, both beaming with excitement.


    sara held a large cake in her hands, covered in rich chocolate frosting, with candles waiting to be lit. mallow had his arms crossed, smirking like he''d just pulled off the greatest prank in history.


    "happy birthday!!!!"


    luca blinked. what the¡ª


    for a solid moment, he just stared at them. today was¡­ september 15th, right? the realization hit him like one of his late-braking maneuvers into a tight corner. it was his birthday. and he had completely forgotten.


    "happy birthday, you bozo! aren''t you happy?!" mallow thundered, striding into the room without waiting for permission.


    sara followed, expertly balancing the cake as she gave luca a pointed look. "or did you forget?"


    luca sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "i was actually anticipating my birthday. but for some reason, i didn''t register that it was today."


    mallow groaned dramatically. "unbelievable. you''re a professional driver with insane reaction speed, but you forgot your own birthday? i swear, man¡­"


    sara shook her head with a teasing smile. "we knew you wouldn''t do anything special, so we took matters into our own hands."


    luca shut the door behind them, still feeling a bit dazed. his birthday. right. it had been the last thing on his mind with all that had happened lately¡ªhis injury, recovery, ansel''s suspension and everything else going on in f2.


    "alright, alright," luca said. "i guess i should say... thanks?"


    "damn right you should," mallow scoffed.


    sara placed the cake on the small coffee table near the lounge area of his room, pulling out a lighter. "make a wish first."


    luca shrugged and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the cake. "i wish i wouldn''t be so caught up and disturbed in the next seasons that i would forget my birthday again," he said, biting his lip to suppress his incoming laughter.


    "what?!" sara snapped. "no, no, no. that''s not a¡ª" experience new stories on empire


    "it counts and it is!" mallow hollered. "cut the cake!!"

 Chapter 152 Steps To Return 2

    on a gloomy saturday, exactly one week after the qatari grand prix, luca decided it was time to restock his fridge. he had a few solid reasons for this. first, the obvious¡ªhe needed food; he had to replenish the one he''d consumed. second, his diet required careful selection according to his system. he had to keep his house stocked. the thought of leaving home just to grab a missing ingredient irritated him, and he didn''t want to keep bothering sara for quick trips to the supermarket. everything had to be present.he already had a refrigerator and a deep freezer, both well-maintained but currently lacking supplies.


    the third reason luca had for going to the grocery store¡ªone that was right on his mind¡ªwas that he was expecting a visitor very soon. in fact, the very next day, sunday. and this visitor would be staying overnight at his house, meaning he had to make sure everything was prepared¡ªwhatever might be needed and whatever might be preferred for a meal.


    it wasn''t just any visitor, though. it was isabella. she would be flying in from the uk to berlin, then take a cab straight to dahlem and stop right at luca''s house for the night.


    when did this progress happen?


    ever since luca''s crash in riyadh, he and isabella had grown relatively closer over the phone¡ªmainly because luca had nothing to do but rest and recover. two weeks ago, she mentioned that she''d be flying into berlin for a seminar focused on the nature, engineering, and construction of hybrid engines, specifically a-level engines. representatives from top engine brands would be attending, making the event both prestigious and highly informative. as a core member of grid edge, isabella was chosen to represent her little group and gather insights from the event.


    when she told luca about it, he acknowledged her plans and assured her he''d book a nice hotel room for her, ensuring she attended the seminar without any stress, inconvenience or distractions.


    however, isabella suggested that she stayed in his house for one night before the event on monday. luca was nervous at the suggestion, sceptical about it, but later agreed. now, he found himself preparing and making effort to impress a girl while she would be in his house.


    well, there wasn''t much to do. his house was always neat, electricity was in abundance, the water supply was steady, and every essential appliance was already in place. the only thing left was to stock the fridge, and this ride to the grocery store would take care of that.


    "mal told me you spoke with one of the owners of squadra corse?" sara asked, breaking the silence in the car as she drove.


    luca chuckled, already anticipating mallow''s tendency to share everything. "there wasn''t much to it, actually," he replied.


    "he didn''t mention a potential transfer to squadra?" she pressed.


    "nope, not a word. but i could tell he was hinting at it. he started with the saudi gp, talking about how bad it was when ansel''s car hit me," luca explained. "but honestly, i''m doing a lot better now. i''m pain-free, which is a relief. still, i''m not sure why mr. ammermann and caitlyn want me to keep wearing the bandage." sear?h the ¦Çov§×lfire .net website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    sara nodded. "i''m no doctor, but i think it''s just a matter of time before they say otherwise," she said, steering the car into the parking lot and looking for a space. "and after he sympathized with your injury¡­? nothing else important came up?"


    "nothing," luca answered, deliberately leaving out the rest of his conversation with mr. lema?tre. it had mostly been about his driving skills and his potentiality of being a great f1 driver, with no mention of a transfer to the squadra corse senior team.


    "alright," sara said with a sharp exhale, parking the car and cutting the engine. she glanced at luca in the passenger seat, who was already removing his seatbelt. "i hope we''re not wandering in like lost dogs. did you make a list?"


    "yeah, i did. almost forgot, actually."


    "good thing you didn''t," sara said, her hands fumbling over the dashboard as she searched the compartment between the driver''s and passenger''s seats. after a moment, she pulled out a black nose mask and handed it to luca. "here, put this on."


    "a nose mask? why?" luca asked, though he still took it.


    sara gave a short laugh. "where''s your sense of public security, luca? let''s go."


    luca slipped on the nose mask before stepping out of the car and following sara into the large supermarket. as they approached the entrance, luca paused when something on the side caught his attention. a large, vibrant board display stood there, filled with advertisements and posters. one in particular stood out, boldly featuring the words "unaufhaltbar trampos!"


    luca tilted his head to get a better look at the back display. his eyes locked on a photo of himself holding the spanish grand prix trophy high. the image hit him like a wave, stirring up memories that brought both nostalgia and an odd dizziness. his heart raced, and for a moment, a dull headache threatened to overwhelm him.


    quickly shaking off the feeling, luca glanced around and realized sara had already ventured further into the store. feeling a sudden insecurity, he adjusted his nose mask, ensuring it was securely in place before entering the air-conditioned supermarket. he grabbed a shopping cart and hurried to catch up with her.


    milk, eggs, cheese, meat....


    luca pushed the kart while sara picked the items on his list, making last minute adjustments and changes as well. she was familiar with this supermarket, having it being the one she often patronised ever since they came to berlin.


    what does unaufhaltbar even mean? luca wondered, his mind stuck on the caption. he still couldn''t wrap his head around the fact that the germans were so into motorsport, especially formula 2, considering trampos was the country''s dominant team.


    does this mean the majority of germans or even all germans were predominantly trampos fans?!


    luca quickly pulled out his phone and hurriedly googled the meaning of the german word just to find out it meant "unstoppable."


    unstoppable trampos?


    luca hmmed to himself as he pocketed his phone. he offered to help sara reach something on the top shelf, but she declined, her height making the task easy for her.


    luca glanced around the supermarket again, wondering if the lady and her two kids who just passed him were core motorsport fans and were devastated when ansel''s car slammed into him, his car tumbling and crashing and the announcement of his injury.


    it sure seemed trampos was stoppable now. read new adventures at empire


    the qatari grand prix was making their championship victory look slim.


    albert derstappen finished first in doha. and no, he didn''t start at p1 and finish there¡ªhe actually dropped to p6 and climbed back to the top over the course of fifty laps.


    sean aaronson finished in p2, an agonizingly close position, especially with the way albert derstappen used drs against him on the final home straight. it was so close it was almost a photo finish.


    the third spot on the podium was a surprising one, mostly due to miles and max once again getting ahead of themselves in aggression, leading to contact that penalized both of them on lap 43. this gave oliver kristensen an edge he hadn''t had all season. and for the very first time this year, retona racing''s oliver kristensen finished in p3.


    luca wasn''t too upset with the result. in fact, he had expected it to be much worse. the rival he had hoped would drop points did drop points¡ªmax addams finished in p5, leaving the track in frustration and tossing his helmet across the asphalt.


    sure, max''s points advantage over him had likely increased, but 10 points for a p5 finish was far better than 25 points for a p1. luca was relieved max hadn''t widened the gap beyond reach, though he felt a tinge of sadness for the germans around him, who had to witness trampos'' absence from the excitement of the qatari grand prix.


    luca hadn''t expected haas and victor to make a significant impact, but they gave it their all. finishing in p7 and p15, respectively, trampos managed to salvage 7 points from the 10th round of the season.


    luca and sara were halfway through their shopping, and the cart was already full. luca offered to unload the items into the trunk of the car and return the cart while sara chatted with a lady she had just met.


    luca rolled the cart out of the supermarket and into the parking lot toward the car. he opened the trunk and began carefully loading the items. halfway through, he felt an urge to check the standings¡ªas if there was an ongoing race and the rankings had somehow changed since he last checked them yesterday.


    luca went straight for the drivers'' standings first.


    provisional driver''s championship standings (top5) scroll for more.


    position | team | points


    --------------------------------------


    1. | max addams | 155


    2. | miles bellingham | 131


    3. | luca rennick | 126


    4. | sean aaronson | 126


    5. | ansel hahn | 115


    damnit!


    luca was now in third. the same third he shared with sean aaronson. from being just one point behind max addams to now trailing by twenty-nine points.


    he groaned in frustration, his fingers tightening around his phone as he navigated to the teams'' standings next. maybe that would cheer him up. he needed to see something positive.


    he hoped¡ªprayed¡ªthat trampos still held onto the lead, even if it was by the slimmest of margins.


    provisional teams'' championship standings (top5) scroll for more.


    position | team | points


    ----------------------------------


    1. | trampos racing | 248


    2. | bueseno velocit¨¤ jnr. | 233


    3. | squadra corse jnr | 211


    4. | hatcherk motorsport | 152


    5. | retona racing | 82


    trampos still held the lead. incredible.


    by now, the championship battle had narrowed. it was already mathematically confirmed that retona racing was out of contention for the constructors'' title. even if their drivers miraculously won the next two rounds while every rival team suffered dnfs, it still wouldn''t be enough.


    similarly, hatcherk motorsport had been eliminated from the title race. their maximum possible points tally had been calculated at 242¡ªa number trampos racing had already surpassed. this was why aaronson, despite finishing p2, looked utterly dejected.


    at least he still had a shot at the drivers'' championship.


    now, only three teams remained in the fight: trampos, velocit¨¤ jnr, and squadra jnr.


    luca exhaled, switched off his phone, and rubbed his eyes.


    he loaded the last of the groceries into the trunk, shut it, and turned back toward the supermarket.


    he needed to clear his head¡ªjust for a day. maybe when isabella arrived, he''d have something else to focus on.


    re-entering the store, he made a point not to glance at that board again.

 Chapter 153 Isabellas Stay

    luca spent his sunday alone after he, sara, and mallow had enjoyed themselves with a little party in the living room. they left that very same night, and luca woke up to solitude again.being a sunday, amir wouldn''t be able to meet up for any appointment to continue the routine they had been following. there was no problem, though, considering they were just about finalizing everything, and there wasn''t much left to do. luca was said to be easily 95% recovered¡ªthough his system said 90¡ªand now, all that remained were some simple breathing and movement exercises ahead of the bandage removal.


    luca was informed that the esteemed federation medical team would personally assess his condition to confirm his full recovery¡ªeven after trampos'' medical team had already given their approval. it was their responsibility to ensure that all drivers were equally fit to return to the track and that no team was pushing its drivers beyond safe limits under the pressure to compete.


    "i give up!" luca hissed, grabbing the remote before slumping into one of the cushions.


    on non-racing sundays, the motorsport channel often broadcasted past races from random seasons of formula 1 or 2. even though he had told himself to take a break from racing for the day, he hadn''t been able to resist the sound of acceleration and the satisfying swirl of smoke. he had to watch.


    when he switched to the channel, the race was already five laps in¡ªthe australian grand prix from earlier in the year. despite knowing the outcome, luca still found it intriguing and decided to keep watching.


    unfortunately, since it wasn''t a live broadcast, the frequent ad breaks quickly became unbearable. when one dragged on too long, luca gave up on waiting. he hurried over to his new simulator¡ªone he had set up himself¡ªand started racing within a minute.


    before he knew it, he had completed three races. evening had crept in, the australian grand prix broadcast had long ended, and the motorsport channel had moved on to analytics and, yet again, endless ads.


    luca let out a long breath as he finally pulled off his headset and stepped out of the simulator. his muscles ached slightly from how tense he had been, completely immersed in the races. as he stretched his arms, he noticed a faint sound¡ªthe soft pitter-patter against the windows.


    the lights in his house seemed much brighter now, casting a warm glow over the white gym he was in. that only meant one thing¡ªoutside was getting darker.


    curious, luca walked over to the curtains and pulled them open. evening had settled in, and the sky was a dull shade of gray. a fine mist of rain fell steadily, heavier than a drizzle but not quite a full downpour. the fixed lights around his premises glowed softly, reflecting on the shimmering lawn.


    luca rested a hand on the window frame, watching the rain for a moment. his mind, which had been racing just minutes ago, gradually eased into the quiet rhythm of the weather.


    "shit!" luca hissed, bolting out of the gym and rushing into the living room.


    his phone lay on the sofa, right where he''d left it. snatching it up, he quickly scanned the screen. to his relief, the notification he had been dreading hadn''t arrived yet. he exhaled, shoulders relaxing.


    but just as he let out that breath, the phone suddenly vibrated in his hand, the ringtone cutting through the silence. the timing was almost eerie¡ªlike fate itself was playing with him.


    luca glanced at the screen. issabella.


    the very call he thought he had missed countless times. s§×arch* the n?vel(f)ire.¦Çet website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    without hesitation, he answered smoothly.


    isabella had just touched down in berlin and wasted no time calling luca to update him on her progress.


    luca listened with a few nods, then instructed her to take a private cab to dahlem using the address he had already sent her.


    "okay," isabella replied, her voice clear over the line. the call lingered for a moment before luca gently ended it.


    with a sigh, he placed his hands on his hips and glanced around his spacious living room. everything was in order¡ªas it always was. yet, for some reason, he couldn''t shake the feeling that something would be out of place. maybe something like a forgotten slice of pizza wedged in the cushions, just waiting for isabella to sit on it.


    shaking off the thought, luca did a mental calculation. from berlin brandenburg airport to dahlem, the drive took around 25 minutes. with the evening traffic and rain, it might stretch to thirty or more.


    that gave him just enough time to finish the early dinner he had started before getting caught up watching the australian grand prix.


    luca moved to the kitchen.


    by 7:05 pm, luca''s phone vibrated softly on the counter. he dried his hands, picked it up, and answered.


    "i think i''m in dalhem now. the driver says so," isabella announced.


    luca hummed in acknowledgment before ending the call. she was close. he quickly made his way upstairs, grabbing a few green notes from his nightstand before heading back down to retrieve an umbrella. the dinner was done, and he had to admit... he''d really outdone himself.


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    stepping out of the grand front door, luca pulled it shut behind him, the click of the lock crisp in the quiet drizzle. the rain had thickened, cool droplets tapping against the pavement and grass, glistening under the glow of the lights bordering his compound.


    he opened the umbrella with a swift flick, shielding himself as he strode down the pathway and through the lawn. a gust of wind carried the soft rustle of leaves as luca approached the gate.


    he pushed the gate open just enough before stepping out, his free hand slipping into his pocket.


    luca stood at the entrance, waiting. the rain had settled into a steady, misty drizzle, coating the pavement in a thin sheen that shimmered under the streetlights.


    maybe the driver was having trouble navigating through the opulent neighborhood at night because dahlem was known for its quiet streets and discreet residences, making it easy to miss an address.


    his brows lifted slightly when a pair of headlights pierced through the dimness, approaching from the right. the low hum of an engine filled the silence, its presence distinct in the stillness.


    since he''d been standing there, not a single car had passed. so, luca had no doubt it had to be isabella''s cab.

 Chapter 154 Isabellas Stay 2

    luca stepped forward and opened the backseat door as the cab rolled to a smooth stop in front of his gate.the dimness of the evening and the drizzle blurred his view, but he could make out isabella''s silhouette. without hesitation, he extended a hand to help her out. as soon as her fingers slipped into his, the familiar softness quickly confirmed it was her.


    "anything in the trunk?" luca asked, raising his voice slightly over the rhythmic patter of rain. his question was directed at both isabella and the driver as he instinctively handed her his umbrella.


    isabella, however, unfurled her own smaller one. "yes. my travel bag," she said.


    luca moved swiftly to the trunk just as the driver popped it open. the bag sat there¡ªsmall, compact. he grabbed it effortlessly with one hand and shut the trunk before pulling out the cash he had prepared. he paid the driver, adding a generous tip, then turned toward isabella.


    now, under the streetlights, he finally got a clearer view of her. she wore a light blue knee-length dress and what looked like cowboy boots, the glow casting subtle shadows on her features.


    "let''s get inside," luca said, nodding toward the gate. s§×arch* the n??efire.¦Çet website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    they stepped in, and as soon as isabella was through, luca shut and locked the gate behind them. she remained standing beside him, quietly taking in the sight of the massive, illuminated house before her.


    luca exhaled, the realization sinking in that he had just let a girl into his property.


    "hey," he said.


    "hey," isabella echoed.


    "how was your trip? good, yeah?"


    "yes, it was," she answered, her gaze still lingering on the grand architecture before her. "this house is huge."


    luca''s eyes remained on her dress¡ªthin fabric, bare arms. it hit him then. the air was cold, the drizzle unforgiving.


    "you might catch a cold," he said, tilting his head toward the house. "let''s go inside."


    once they got into the house, a nice warmth enveloped isabella because luca had knowingly fixed the house''s heater once he saw the drizzle. "jesus. this place is huge," isabella voiced. "you... own this?!"


    "yes, i do," luca replied. "don''t bother with removing your boots."


    luca watched isabella wander off deep into the living room in awe as if in search of that slice of pizza he feared. he tightened his grip on her bag and turned toward the staircase, ascending smoothly to the upper floor.


    a few steps down the hallway, he reached the second bedroom out of three in the house¡ªthe one he had specifically chosen for isabella. it was the closest to his own, ensuring that if an emergency arose, he could reach her in an instant.


    setting the bag down neatly in the room, luca turned back and made his way downstairs. a quick glance at his phone showed the time: 7:35 pm.


    just as he lifted his head, isabella''s distant voice echoed through the house, calling his name as though she had lost her way.


    luca called back, guiding her toward the living room, where they met. "alright," he said, hands on his hips. "for now, just stick to one path¡ªyour room and this main sitting area."


    isabella gave a small nod. "oh, okay."


    without another word, luca led her toward the bedroom. as he stepped inside, he gestured lightly. "it''s cozy, and everything you need is here," he assured her. the room was similar to his in appearance and features, but his was still better. even at that, this room had a master-sized bed as well, and good rugging unlike his.


    luca lingered at the doorway, watching as isabella took in the space, her expression unreadable until she finally turned back to him. "this is wonderful. how can i even say thank you?"


    "you don''t have to," luca replied, shaking his head. "it''s already past dinnertime. once you''re done freshening up and settling in, come downstairs for dinner."


    "okay," isabella said with a small smile.


    luca nodded and left, his footsteps fading down the staircase.


    by 8:30 pm, the sound of approaching footsteps pulled luca''s attention away from the kitchen he had been tidying up. he glanced up just as isabella appeared at the entrance, dressed in a loose white pajama set. her hair was slightly tousled, as if she had made a halfhearted attempt to smooth it down, and her eyes lit up with relief upon spotting him.


    "congratulations to me¡ªi managed to find the kitchen," she said, stepping inside. she gave a small, amused huff before adding, "it''s half past eight. back in the uk, it''s not too late to order something. is it the same here in germany?"


    luca shut the cabinet where he had just stored the broom and dusted his hands. "order something? i don''t do that. i cook my own dinner," he said.


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    isabella''s bare feet shifted slightly on the cold marble floor, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. "you... can cook?"


    "yes," luca replied simply. he thought about asking if she could cook but held back, relying instead on observation. the fact that she had immediately suggested ordering food¡ªand now seemed surprised that he cooked¡ªtold him enough that she couldn''t cook. instead, he asked, "do you not like homemade food?"


    isabella rubbed her arms lightly, wandering further into the kitchen. "i rarely have any of it," she admitted, passing by the kitchen''s mini dining area before sliding into a seat at the center counter. "so, what''s on the menu?"


    "would you rather wait at the main dining table?" luca suggested, but isabella shook her head.


    "no. i want to see you work. sit across from me if you want," she said.


    luca nodded and turned to the kitchen''s workstation, lifting the lid of the stainless steel pot. a rush of rich, savory aroma spilled into the air, a blend of simmered spices, garlic, and perfectly cooked meat. alongside, a separate pot held al dente pappardelle pasta, its wide ribbons glistening from a light toss in olive oil.


    he grabbed a pair of wooden tongs, twisting a portion of pasta onto a plate before spooning a generous amount of the rag¨´ over it. the finishing touch¡ªa sprinkle of freshly grated parmesan cheese¡ªmelted slightly against the warmth of the dish.


    luca looked behind him. isabella had rested her chin on her hands, watching with quiet fascination. "that smells incredible," she admitted.


    after preparing a simple yet elegant side salad with arugula, cherry tomatoes, and a drizzle of balsamic glaze, luca carefully plated the main dish. he carried both plates to the center counter, placing one in front of isabella and the other for himself. then, he made his way to a cabinet, retrieving a bottle of wine along with two pristine glasses. carefully, he poured a generous amount into each glass before setting them down and preparing to take his seat.


    as he was about to slide into the chair, isabella suddenly asked, "do you know anakin skywalker?"


    luca paused for a second, glancing at her with mild curiosity. "yeah, of course. what about him?"


    isabella exhaled dramatically, her gaze dropping to the plate of steaming, restaurant-worthy food before her. "you''re starting to look like him¡­ but, you know, a little dorkier. and with italian features, obviously."


    luca almost burst out in laughter, but he made sure what left his lips was a chuckle as he settled into the seat. "i''ll take that as a compliment. who wouldn''t want to look like anakin skywalker?"


    as he adjusted his position, he noticed that the counter was smaller than he had expected. their plates were close enough that the edges nearly touched, a detail he hadn''t anticipated but didn''t mind.


    luca leaned back slightly, waiting for isabella to take the first bite. he hadn''t tasted the dish yet, but he felt no need to. cooking had been an ingrained skill since childhood, something his mother had indirectly nurtured in him. she had never explicitly called him into the kitchen to learn¡ªthat had always been sophia''s place¡ªbut whenever he was home alone, anticipating their return from work or school, he would experiment. what began as simple curiosity evolved into self-taught expertise.


    isabella twirled a forkful of pasta, lifting it carefully before taking a bite. the moment the flavors hit her tongue, her eyes widened in surprise. her eyebrows lifted as she slowly chewed, savoring the taste.


    "no way¡­ you''re lying. this is a big lie." she pointed at him accusingly, her fork still in hand. "you definitely bought this from some fancy restaurant and just threw it into a pot to make it look homemade."


    "no, i didn''t," luca defended himself, chuckling.


    "yes, you did!"


    "no... i didn''t."


    isabella took a slow sip from her glass before leaning forward slightly. "so, you really did cook this?"


    luca gave a small nod, motioning for her to keep eating before it got too late.


    for the next couple of minutes, they ate in silence. but luca could tell isabella had something on her mind. she hesitated, as if unsure whether to speak, probably thinking he''d find her too talkative. but he liked the way she spoke. to break the silence, he brought up a topic.


    "i haven''t watched any of the star wars movies yet, just read some of the comics. you''ve seen the new trilogy, right?"


    "just the first one," isabella admitted. "i haven''t had time to watch attack of the clones yet."


    "alright. i''ll catch up then. maybe we can set up a movie night," luca suggested. "could''ve been tonight, but i figure you''re exhausted. you need some proper sleep."


    "so... does this count as our first date?" isabella asked.


    luca shook his head. "no, no, no. definitely not."


    "well, i''m seventeen now, and we did agree you''d take me on a date sometime between july and september," she said.


    luca set down his fork, grabbed his wine glass, and took a long sip, nearly finishing it. then, leaning back, he lifted his shirt slightly, revealing the bandage wrapped around his side. "in case you forgot, i''m not exactly in date-worthy condition right now," he reminded her. he picked up his fork again. "and by the time i return to the track, it might be weeks before we get something like this again."


    "alright," isabella murmured, twirling the last of her pasta. "season ends in november."

 Chapter 155 Isabellas Stay 3

    [system online...][system and host will soon resume original daily routine]


    just like the other day, amir arrived so they could conclude luca''s recovery routine with a tougher gym session to strengthen his muscles, which had weakened after weeks of healing.


    isabella would leave for her seminar around 10 a.m. and return four hours later. it was 7:00 a.m., and she wasn''t awake when amir and luca began their stretches and warm-ups to start the day.


    "you''re looking strong," amir remarked, noticing luca''s improvement. he could move and perform any activity without discomfort, and the bandage now seemed more like an aesthetic than a necessity.


    luca started the warm-up with the advanced bundle exercises¡ªones he hadn''t done in a few weeks. his body needed to be reminded of them, picking up from where it had left off.


    as expected, his body responded smoothly, only straining where he anticipated at the early stages. amir joined in on the warm-up, motivating luca to push through more reps than intended and reignite the fire and thirst for more that his body once had.


    before they knew it, both of them were softly panting, exchanging a cheerful high-five. but they froze like mannequins at the sound of approaching footsteps.


    quickly, luca and amir turned their heads toward the gym entrance, awaiting the visitor. luca already knew who it was, and amir could only guess who luca had let into his house.


    slowly, isabella came into view, stepping hesitantly into the gym. she was definitely not familiar with the massive house yet and had likely followed the sound of their voices to find her way. her tousled hair and slightly squinted eyes made it clear she had just woken up¡ªprobably stirred by the noise of their workout. that was luca''s wild guess. she now wore an oversized hoodie over her pajama shirt, its sleeves hanging past her wrists, and the loose pajama pants brushed against the floor as she walked.


    luca and amir, still catching their breath from their warm-up, remained frozen for a moment, staring at her.


    "good morning, luca," isabella greeted, stepping just two feet into the gym.


    "good morning to you too," luca replied, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead. "slept well?"


    "very," she said, then turned her attention to amir. "good morning."


    amir, always one for theatrics, beamed. "ah! good morning to you too, young lady!" his voice was unnecessarily loud, echoing slightly in the spacious room. "how do you do?"


    "i''m fine, thank you," isabella replied, suppressing a small smile at his energy.


    luca slung a friendly arm around amir''s neck, pulling him into a casual half-hug. "isabella, this is amir, my personal trainer. amir, this is isabella."


    both exchanged polite nods. "it''s very nice to meet you," they said in unison before isabella turned her focus back to luca. "so... this is like your morning gym session?" explore more adventures at empire


    "yes. are you getting ready to leave? do you want to eat something?" luca asked.


    "no, i''m not leaving yet. actually, i wouldn''t mind arriving a few minutes late." she stretched slightly, glancing around. "and as for breakfast, i''ll try and make something myself¡ªdon''t bother."


    she turned toward the door, then paused with a thoughtful expression. "since it''s morning, i might as well take a proper tour of the house. i won''t get lost, but if i do, i''ll just shout your name."


    luca nodded, watching her leave before he returned to amir. "alright, let''s get back to it."


    since luca was still in the first few days following his full recovery, amir knew the exact set of exercise activities to prescribe to him. luca would need to regain his driver-like physique, focusing on core stability, flexibility, and endurance while also minimizing the risk of reintroducing strain to his abdominal area.


    two highly effective exercise activities for the day were pallof press and seated medicine ball russian twists. the first was specifically aimed at muscle strengthening for someone recovering from a rib injury, while the second was designed to build rotational strength and flexibility without placing excessive stress on the ribs.


    [system online...]


    [system is analyzing and retrieving training program issued to host.]


    [pallof press analyzed]


    [seated medicine ball russian twists analyzed]


    [ding!]


    [successfully retrieved!]


    [exercise: pallof press]


    [equipment: resistance band / cable machine]


    [host is required to stand perpendicular to the resistance band or cable machine and press the handle forward while resisting the pull. this strengthens the core''s anti-rotation ability, crucial for stability under high g-forces during races.]


    [this will be done for 3 sets of 12 reps per side, focusing on maintaining a strong posture and controlled movement to prevent excessive strain on the recovering ribs.]


    luca had a cable machine.


    he took a deep breath, positioning himself perpendicular to the machine before he gripped the handle and listened to amir''s instruction about keeping his stance strong.


    luca exhaled as he slowly pressed the handle forward and instantly, he could feel the tension pull at his midsection. his core tightened instinctively to keep his torso from twisting. the movement seemed simple, but as he held the extended position for a second before bringing it back in, he could feel the challenge.


    "good, control it," amir encouraged. "don''t let the band jerk you back. you''re training your core to stabilize¡ªjust like in the car when you''re handling those high-speed turns."


    luca completed the reps on one side, then switched. the strain was there, but it wasn''t discomforting. it felt like his muscles were waking up, rebuilding the strength they had lost.


    it was time to get back behind a wheel, on the track and racing an f2 grand prix. luca missed the thrill.


    after finishing the first set, he rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers, resetting his stance to begin the next and final two sets.


    "good! energy! energy! that''s what we want here!" amir encouraged when luca was finished. "they won''t see you coming, my friend! not at all!"


    [exercise: seated medicine ball russian twists]


    [equipment: medicine ball]


    [host is required to sit on the floor with knees slightly bent and feet either planted or elevated for added difficulty. holding the medicine ball with both hands, rotate the torso from side to side, tapping the ball on the ground beside the hips each time. this enhances rotational core strength, essential for maintaining control and endurance during high-speed maneuvers.]


    [this will be done for 3 sets of 15 reps per side, ensuring controlled movements to avoid unnecessary strain while rebuilding core stability and balance.]


    a medicine ball was a very important equipment, without it, a gym would be termed incomplete.


    even though luca''s gym was a personal one, he had five of them neatly stacked in the corner. without hesitation, he picked one up for the exercise.


    he then sat on a laid mat with his knees slightly bent, gripping the medicine ball firmly while amir crouched beside him, watching closely.


    "alright, keep your core tight," amir instructed. "control each twist, don''t rush it."


    luca nodded, lifting his feet off the ground to engage his core even more. as he twisted from side to side, tapping the ball against the mat, he felt the familiar tension in his obliques. the motion was deliberate, smooth, and focused, nothing reckless that could aggravate his ribs.


    luca exhaled sharply with each twist, maintaining his form. by the time he neared the end of the first set, his abs burned, but he welcomed the feeling. it was a sign of progress, a reminder that his body was returning to its peak.


    "fifteen reps per side, done," luca muttered, dropping the ball briefly to shake out his arms.


    he didn''t even let amir remind him as he quickly picked up the ball again to resume the reps and completed it within the next minute.


    "ho! ho! ho! great job, my friend!" amir praised when luca was done. sear?h the n??efire.¦Çet website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [good job, host. all exercises assigned have been completed]


    it even felt easier.


    "doctor said they''ll be removing the bandage tomorrow," he told amir as he sank onto the bench beside him, catching his breath. "kind of a tradition to mark the end of it all. after that, the federation''s medical team will run some final tests to confirm i''m fully recovered."


    "perfect," amir said, giving luca''s shoulders a firm shake. but then his expression shifted into a suspicious glare, his eyes narrowing as if he''d just uncovered some secret. "now¡­ do you mind telling me who the girl was? i held back earlier, didn''t want to ask while she was still around."


    luca chuckled, taking a long sip of water. "she''s¡­ someone i''m trying to get to know, if you get what i mean."


    "ohhh, i see," amir said, nodding in exaggerated approval. "that''s very good. i''m in full support. so, in the next few years, the pitter-patter of little feet will fill this grand house? wonderful!"


    luca blinked, taking a second to process amir''s words. the moment he did, he groaned in exasperation.


    "what? it''s a blessing!" amir insisted, laughing.


    "alright, that''s enough. we''re done with this conversation," luca said, shaking his head as he pushed himself up. "gym session''s over. time for you to go."


    ----------------------


    after amir left, luca followed the scent of toast into the kitchen. stepping inside, he found isabella munching on what could only be described as burnt bread¡ªover-toasted to the point of crispiness, with a drizzle of mayonnaise on top and a glass of orange juice beside it.


    seeing the state of her breakfast, luca immediately offered to make something better, but isabella refused. she tried to mask her frustration, but it was clear she was annoyed that she couldn''t even toast bread properly. that small failure lingered in her mood, subtly dampening her spirits until she left for the seminar.


    being luca''s last day of forcefully staying at home, he decided he''d make it count with the most races he could watch and simulations he could finish.


    he felt so eager to hop back into f2 action, reminding him of his first day in grey-husson''s.


    luca made sure he kept his phone next to him while he used the simulator. it was a good move, because isabella called just after 2 pm, letting him know she was on her way back in a cab. he was actually leading the race at that moment, but without hesitation, he abandoned it to go meet her.


    after paying for the cab again, he let her in and mentioned there was lunch if she was hungry. he also reminded her to start getting ready for her evening flight back to the uk, since her stay in berlin had only been planned for a single day.


    however, as 4 pm approached, isabella still hadn''t come downstairs, even though her flight was scheduled for 4:30. luca assumed she had either dozed off from exhaustion after the seminar or had simply forgotten about her own flight.


    yet, he made no effort to remind her.


    it wasn''t until 6 pm that isabella finally appeared, clearly unfazed, and running on an empty stomach. neither of them acknowledged the missed flight, as if it hadn''t happened at all. instead, they casually agreed to watch attack of the clones, continuing their star wars discussion from earlier.


    while luca prepared a simple dinner for isabella, he helped himself to her untouched lunch to avoid wasting food.


    outside, the sky rumbled with thunder, and rain poured heavily, making him somewhat relieved she hadn''t boarded a plane just to battle turbulence.


    fetching some snacks from the pantry, he poured them into bowls before flipping through the movie selection on his high-tier subscription service, which allowed him to request any film on demand.


    settling together on the couch, luca turned to isabella. "so, how was the seminar?"


    as attack of the clones began rolling on the massive screen, they munched on chips, their conversation flowing as if the missed flight had never been a concern.

 Chapter 156 Revived & Ready

    the following morning after a personal gym session, luca and isabella had a proper breakfast for the day ahead. they had rescheduled her flight for a late morning flight, and luca was set to have his clearance today. he had informed sara that the car would be available for two passengers and they''d make a stop at the airport first before driving toward one of the federation''s stations in berlin.each core motorsport country¡ªsuch as england, spain, italy, sweden, germany, australia, etcetera¡ªhad federation stations that functioned as regional headquarters. these stations served as sub-quarters for administrative operations, driver evaluations, and regulatory oversight. they were equipped with medical facilities, advanced simulators, and testing areas to monitor driver fitness, enforce racing regulations, and provide technical support for teams affiliated with the federation.


    luca''s outfit for the day was a fitted white trampos team-branded shirt, slim athletic joggers, and lightweight sneakers. on his wrist, he wore a catapult watch¡ªjust a simple black band, as he didn''t want to look too flashy. he collected his driver id as well.


    sara arrived early, settling comfortably in the living room with a light snack while luca helped isabella double-check her belongings to make sure she hadn''t forgotten anything. sara made no comment about isabella, only offering a brief return greeting when the girl acknowledged her. she had expected luca to start making noticeable changes in his life, and this¡ªwhatever it was¡ªcame as no surprise.


    isabella, on the other hand, immediately recognized sara from the dinner party at the start of the season. she questioned luca once more, and this time, he finally had to spill. even though he had dropped the charade a long time ago, he had forgotten he never actually told isabella¡ªnot that she ever truly believed him in the first place.


    with light traffic, they reached the airport in twenty-five minutes, well ahead of isabella''s flight. luca walked her to the terminal, ensuring she made it up the escalator without any issues. their goodbye felt awkward¡ªwas a hug appropriate? a brief french kiss on the cheek, perhaps? in the end, a simple wave sufficed.


    returning to the car, luca slipped into the passenger seat, buckled his seatbelt, and threw a glance at sara.


    "just say what you wanna say."


    sara shook her head with a smirk. "nope. i have nothing to say," she replied, starting the car and merging smoothly back onto the road.


    the morning sun was bright and it was a busy tuesday, though the traffic remained light. luca settled into his seat, adjusting the fit of his trampos team-branded shirt as he exhaled softly. his mind was already shifting away from his personal life and toward what awaited him at the federation subquarters¡ªhis medical clearance, his next steps, and the gradual return to the high-intensity world of motorsport.


    sara got a call from mr. ammermann, who announced trampos'' medical team''s arrival in the subquarters and had given their file remarks to the federation''s medic team for scrutiny.


    they drove deeper into the city, the surroundings shifting from towering skyscrapers and dense commercial districts to more industrial landscape like the place where trampos'' hq was located. large warehouses and research facilities lined the road, with motorsport hubs appearing with time.


    soon, the main structure marked by the emblem of "f¨¦d¨¦ration internationale de l''automobile, berlin," loomed ahead as a multi-level built with sleek steel and glass.


    unlike standard race team headquarters, which focused on engineering and team strategy, the subquarters were designed for regulatory oversight, forwarding and relaying of information, general training, and driver medical evaluations.


    sara pulled into the designated entrance, scanning luca''s and her credentials at a security checkpoint before they were granted access to the underground parking facility. as the barrier lifted, she guided the car into a reserved spot, cutting the engine before stretching slightly.


    luca opened his door and stepped out, his eyes instinctively scanning the underground parking facility as if he was searching for something or someone.


    sara stepped out a moment later, locking the car with a subtle beep before walking alongside him.


    the two made their way through security clearance, where luca provided identification, underwent a brief biometric scan, and was granted level-three access¡ªenough to move freely within the medical and administrative sectors. it didn''t take long before they found themselves in a pristine white corridor leading toward the medical division, where two familiar faces awaited them.


    "luca! right on time," mr. ammermann beamed, striding toward him and sara in the hallway lined with formula 1 art and framed photos of racing legends. "we''ve sent your updated reports to the federation''s medical board. everything looks solid, but we''ll need to run a few final assessments here before they clear you for competition."


    caitlyn followed closely behind. "you''re moving well. how are you holding up?"


    sara leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed as she listened. "let''s not waste time, then. what''s next?"


    mr. ammermann gestured toward a nearby examination room. "functional strength tests, reflex evaluations, and a final scan. shouldn''t take long."


    "let me remove the bandage first," caitlyn added, motioning for luca to lift his polo shirt.


    finally, luca thought as he pulled it up.


    the cool air hitting his skin after weeks of being wrapped up was an instant relief. as caitlyn carefully peeled away the bandage, he let out a slow exhale, his muscles finally unrestricted.


    the area where the injury had once been was slightly discolored but fully healed, with no residual swelling or discomfort.


    he flexed his torso experimentally, rolling his shoulders and twisting his upper body slightly. nothing. no sharp pain, no tightness¡ªjust pure, unrestricted movement.


    "that feels so much better," he muttered, running a hand over his side as if to confirm it for himself.


    sara helped herself to one of the waiting seats while luca followed mr. ammermann and caitlyn into the first room.


    ----------------


    the tests were routine but thorough. luca performed a stability assessment, core endurance drills, and a reaction-speed test¡ªall monitored by the federation''s medical systems. sensors mapped his movements, and data was immediately relayed to a live performance analytics board.


    everything was running smoothly until the final clearance decision had to be made. that authority belonged to dr. konrad weiss, one of the federation''s most respected medical officers, stationed at berlin''s base.


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    from what luca had learned, the man would be the one to give the final verdict.


    dr. weiss reviewed everything in silence, conducting a few checks on luca himself. he studied him for a long moment, then exhaled and signed the final authorization in the system.


    "do you genuinely think you''re ready to drive? no hesitation?" he asked.


    "yes, sir. i''m more than ready. that''s why i''m here," luca replied.


    "then, as far as the fia is concerned..."


    "...you''re cleared for competition." s§×ar?h the novel(f~)ire.net website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 157 Revived & Ready 2

    french grand prixlocation: le castellet, france


    date: oct. 17


    track: circuit du soleil (solaris)


    another european circuit nestled in the hilly regions near the mediterranean sea? the french grand prix was set to host the 11th round of the formula 1 and formula 2 championship season.


    circuit du soleil had a very bad reputation for horrific crashes over the years, even claiming the life of a driver in the previous generation of formula 1. the track was treacherous, with steep turns skirting the edges of hills and one of the longest straights in motorsport, making high-speed collisions a constant threat.


    despite its dangers, le castellet remained a staple in the racing calendar, its historic circuit continuing to attract the world''s top drivers. it had hosted the mega prix six seasons ago and had repeatedly survived attempts to shut it down. rumors swirled that circuit du soleil might once again host the mega prix next season, especially with the federation selecting it for this year''s 11th round¡ªwhere the championship battle in both formula 1 and formula 2 was more intense than ever, with no clear winners in sight.


    the standings were packed, and the defining winners and winner might have to wait until after the 12th round, the season''s mega prix.


    provisional teams'' championship standings (top5) scroll for more.


    position | team | points


    ----------------------------------------


    1. | trampos racing | 248


    2. | bueseno velocit¨¤ jnr. | 233


    3. | squadra corse jnr | 211


    4. | hatcherk motorsport | 152


    5. | retona racing | 82


    after the qatari grand prix and the announcement of hatcherk motorsport being unable to win the trophy, a wave of happiness had coursed through the top three teams: trampos, velocit¨¤ jnr and squadra jnr. now, they could focus on themselves, knowingly they''d denied a pressing team like hatcherk the trophy.


    from luca''s understanding, he could anticipate the energy velocit¨¤ and squadra would bring to france. squadra would arrive with aggression, knowing they had nothing to lose but everything to gain in their climb to the top. meanwhile, velocit¨¤ would approach with caution yet unwavering determination, fully aware that squadra was right beneath them. their drivers would have to execute clean lines, not just to defend but also to surpass trampos.


    little did luca know that what truly occupied everyone''s mind in both velocit¨¤ jnr and squadra jnr was his return. their team principals, strategists, engineers, mechanics, and general crew were all focused on one thing and it was luca rennick''s clearance to resume competition.


    during his brief absence, they had amassed a significant number of points, strengthening their climb and improving their shot at the championship. and now, the very driver who had put trampos at the top of the standings from the beginning of the season until now was back in action.


    it was pre-preparatory week, a week and a half before the 11th round¡ªthe french grand prix. luca had officially been cleared for competition after undergoing extensive medical evaluations.


    a big smile spread across his face as he arrived at the headquarters on that fateful thursday morning. he was early, a habit ingrained in him since his days living in the quarters. even before the sun had fully risen, the air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp asphalt from the overnight drizzle, and the chirping of birds that would soon flutter away once the rev of a sombercore tore through the stillness.


    today, he was back in his element. explore more stories at empire


    mr. moritz in particular was very glad to have luca back, and he ordered mccauley to let go so he could grace luca himself and make sure he was alright and ready. he gripped luca by the shoulders, scanning him with sharp, assessing eyes, almost as if expecting to find some hidden weakness beneath the driver''s easy smile. but luca stood firm, unbothered, his posture exuding the same confidence he had before the crash.


    the moment passed quickly, and mr. moritz nodded in satisfaction, stepping back as the crew continued their celebration. mechanics clapped him on the back, engineers muttered about his uncanny durability, and even some of the more stoic staff cracked rare smiles.


    luca spotted haas and victor in the crowd, their faces lighting up the moment they saw him. without hesitation, they made their way over, gripping his shoulders in firm, brotherly shakes before pulling him into an embrace. there was no pretense, no forced words. haas and victor were actually in genuine relief and happiness at seeing him back where he belonged.


    before long, the entire trampos crew, from the engineers to the pit wall strategists, had joined in, the energy in the reception room swelling into something uncontrollable. laughter mixed with shouts, and then, as if by instinct, someone started a chant.


    "siegen?!"


    "weitergehen!"


    everyone joined the chant, even luca who had known idea what it meant. they slung their arms over each other''s shoulders, moved as one, jumping in unison, the rhythm pounding through the floors.


    win?!


    move forward!


    it was a war cry disguised as a celebration. a driver returns, a team regains its strength, and the fire of competition burns brighter.


    amidst the celebrations, luca searched for ansel but couldn''t spot him anywhere. after a thorough glance around, he came to a conclusion that ansel wasn''t present. it seemed he had taken his race suspension so seriously that he hadn''t even bothered to show up. sea??h th§× n??efire.¦Çet website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    perhaps he hadn''t been showing up for weeks now.


    "oi!"


    a sharp, hoarse voice sliced through the chant like a whip, snapping the entire room to attention. the jumping halted instantly, shoulders unlocked, and the once-roaring celebration faded into scattered chuckles and shifting feet.


    who the heck is that? luca thought, panting slightly as he turned toward the source of the voice.


    standing in the second doorway of the reception room was a middle-aged man, likely approaching his fifties. he was of average height, with receding blonde hair and a mustache that gave him an odd mix of wisdom and humor.


    this was mr. ruben, the top chief head engineer¡ªthe very man mr. moritz answered to. he wasn''t just another figure in the garage; he sat on the board, representing the engineering department. luca had never spoken to him, never even seen him before¡ªnot in the video meeting, not in passing. yet here he was, his presence alone enough to shift the room''s atmosphere.


    the last luca had heard, motorsport was undergoing an engine reviewal programme, a large-scale initiative stretching across multiple seasons. it was common for top engineers to temporarily step away from their teams, traveling worldwide to attend seminars, exchange knowledge, and evaluate upcoming regulations. perhaps, it was one of these related seminars isabella had attended because she mentioned something about engines.


    maybe the programme had finally concluded, and mr. ruben had returned to his post. or maybe he had simply decided to return, regardless of whether it was over. either way, his arrival marked a change.


    "enough of the circus, men," he grumbled, stepping forward, his boots clicking against the polished floor. "you''re back, rennick. good. now act like it. follow me."


    luca did his best to hide his smirk as he followed the man out of the reception room. he could hear everyone chuckling when they left and he wished he could have celebrated longer.


    where were they even going?


    oh. i guess i''d have to get a briefing with the board upon my return. sounds good, i guess, luca thought, greeting more crew members as they walked.


    it felt really good to be back.

 Chapter 158 Revived & Ready 3

    mr. grand and ms. vallotton were present with the rest of the board and management. their size was bigger than before, making luca wonder how the structure of trampos'' leadership really looked like.welcoming luca was the first thing the board did. after a month and two weeks from the incident in riyadh, their star driver was standing unfazed and ready for action, confirmed by the federation itself. s§×arch* the novel?ire(.)ne*t website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    welcoming him was a gesture of good and caring gratitude, where mr. fisher even went far to congratulate him on moving out of the headquarters and acquiring a decent home at such a young age. luca appreciated their words, though he remembered something and he felt a short wave of guilt.


    the saudi arabian grand prix had been his first featured race since extending his contract with trampos¡ªonly for him and ansel to throw it all away. it felt like just weeks had slipped by, and here he was, collecting wages without securing a single point for the team in the last two grands prix. damn.


    luca was determined to change that and make the next two grands prix count in trampos'' favor.


    although they had a hunch that luca was well-informed, the board still felt it necessary to provide a recap of what had transpired in the season standings during his short absence.


    the team''s lead had shrunk drastically, and strong finishes from max addams and dani walding in france could push trampos down to second place¡ªsomething they were determined to prevent.


    the second crucial piece of information, though previously discussed in the video meeting, was deemed important enough to repeat. it carried significant weight for trampos'' performance in the remainder of the season and could also influence luca''s driving, both mentally and physiologically.


    ansel''s suspension remained firmly in place and had not been overturned, despite thousands of trampos fans submitting appeals. luca had even heard rumors that a small protest had formed outside the gates, but security had quickly dispersed them. mr. fisher and the board had made their stance clear that ansel''s actions were too egregious, and they despised the recklessness enough to justify a season-long suspension as the appropriate punishment.


    this decision was meant to send a message that originally, motorsport was about the team, not just the driver. ignoring team orders from the very organization that could bench you at any moment was nothing short of self-destructive.


    the next discussions that followed revolved around what the board and everyone expected from luca upon his return.


    they expected full driving¡ªno slacking, no hesitation, no traces of a driver fresh from recovery. unlike many athletes who gradually ease back into competition after an injury, luca was expected to return at 100% performance immediately. with the season reaching its critical stages, there was no room for anything less.


    especially now, when he wouldn''t be pairing with ansel in the next two featured races.


    luca would be alongside haas, who had been training rigorously to assume the role of player b, at least for now.


    luca had anticipated this, but hearing it aloud still left a heavy feeling in his chest.


    ansel was his teammate and friend. in fact, ansel was the only driver luca had ever paired with on a competitive stage. their synergy had been built over time, forged throughout the season and their shared struggles on the track. to have that abruptly taken away felt... unnatural.


    he knew he had to adapt. he had to make it work with haas. but no matter how much effort he put in, he couldn''t shake the reality because their driving chemistry would never match what he had with ansel.


    luca listened as the board resumed.


    this was going to be a focused end to the season and they needed luca to be at the best.


    knowing haas might not be able to get high points per race, trampos believed it was up to luca to maintain their fragile lead until the last second of the final round, which would lead to their win.


    mr. fisher even added that doing this might also take luca to the top of the drivers'' standings, a win-win for both team and driver, bringing about happiness and possibly loyalty to the team.


    "i understand what''s at stake, and i won''t let our lead slip. i believe i''m at 100% and i''ll make a hundred percent performance. ansel''s not here, and yeah, that''s... really hard to ignore, but erik and i can make it work," luca said assuringly and began taking handshakes from everyone.


    after the meeting, mr. grant and ms. vallotton led luca out, walking down the hallway with him positioned between them.


    "it''s very good to have you back, luca," mr. grant said.


    "a relief, in fact. i don''t think we would''ve stood a chance at gold if you had missed france," ms. vallotton added as they came to a stop.


    luca nodded, exhaling. "i''m glad to be back," he said, rubbing his palms together. "so, what do i need to catch up on? any changes i haven''t been told about?"


    "no, not at all. we''re going back to the new structure after a temporary adjustment for victor and erik."


    mr. grant placed a firm hand on luca''s left shoulder. "and i think it''s time we officially conclude your platinum program and look into prescribing something new."


    "really?" luca asked, raising a brow.


    "yes," mr. grant confirmed, folding his arms. "after development and growth, the next step is progress. so, we''ll be starting something new as soon as possible."


    with that, they resumed walking.


    [ding!]


    [congratulations, host]


    [racecraft programme successfully completed!]


    [system is reviewing takeaways learnt by host....]


    [...review completed]


    enjoy exclusive chapters from empire


    [results:


    ¡ªhost has improved his general knowledge and has acquired a better understanding of the competition and his rivals.


    ¡ªhost has improved his awareness in predicting opponents'' moves to react proactively.


    ¡ªhost has improved his general knowledge and has acquired a better understanding of formula machines and their engines.


    ¡ªhost had improved his understanding of strategies and working efficiently with team engineers.


    ¡ªoverall, host has improved his driving.]


    [ding!]


    [host has been rewarded with:


    intelligence: +5]

 Chapter 159 Back In The Cockpit And Refining The Edge

    [synchronizing host....][synchronization complete]


    [host is now synced with dallara (f2 04)]


    woo-hoo! you are so beautiful!


    luca exhaled as his gloved hands settled on the wheel. he began to caress the magnificent sculpture that was responsible for controlling the direction and steering of an f2 beast like the dallara (f2 04). his fingers quickly found their respective positions, gently brushing over the many controls adorning the wheel, from the thick buttons to the harder paddles.


    luca had now been training for four consecutive days, getting back into rhythm, reacquainting himself with the raw intensity of a single-seater. every second spent inside the cockpit felt like a return to where he truly belonged. the car had never felt more responsive, never worked more seamlessly. it was as if he had never left.


    even when he was pushing, everything felt smooth¡ªthe steering inputs, ers deployment, throttle response. every movement was crisp, calculated, and natural. he could feel the car working with him, the sombercore engine at peak performance, and that sensation alone made him eager to kick off today''s session.


    the first two days had been dedicated to reconditioning his body to withstand the brutal forces of high-speed driving. the third day had brought back the normal drills he had been practicing before the saudi gp, and he was expected to continue building on them as the sessions progressed.


    luca tapped the wheel twice once the engine rumbled to life after the ignition clicked.


    he absorbed the radioed instructions on what to do during the warm-up laps before haas would join him on track for competition, replay, and training of the tiered pursuit strategy.


    luca¡ªerik was now a thing.


    [data displayed in real time:


    -car speed: 185 km/h


    -heart rate: 110 bpm


    -operational status: 95% (very good)


    -breathing: calm & steady


    -distance covered: 400m


    -time: 6 sec. ]


    trampos'' little track was nothing more than a one-and-a-half-kilometer circuit, meaning a full lap would take less than thirty seconds. if the federation were ever to sanction races here, they would likely mandate 150 to 200 laps just to match the total race distance of a typical event.


    luca zipped by effortlessly from the start, clocking in before the thirty-second mark. the engineers quickly calculated his speed, momentum, and steering input, noting an improvement over yesterday''s first run lap.


    **very nice, luca. erik will join you shortly**


    luca''s fingertips itched with excitement.


    why was he so eager for competition?! he had no idea. for some reason, he craved a rival to pull up alongside him, exchange that quick, knowing glance¡ªbefore gritting his teeth in fierce determination.


    he made an easy left turn, tilting the wheel and feeling the dallara adapt seamlessly to the track''s structure.


    his fingers instinctively reached for the engine mapping switches, even as his eyes remained fixed on the track ahead and the flock of birds in the distance.


    while moding his sombercore for good energy deployment down the track, his feet quickly went for the throttle which he clutched with strength.


    [you have picked up speed!]


    [you have reduced speed!]


    his acceleration didn''t last long as he gently released the throttle and engaged the brake instead. his fingers left the engine mode switches and simply adjusted the brake bias instead, allowing him to coast before smoothly cruising to the track''s side.


    mccauley strode over to luca''s single-seater and tapped its frame lightly with the toe of his boot.


    "hot already. you''re on fire, mate," he remarked, bending down to meet luca''s gaze as the driver lifted his visor. stay updated through empire


    luca glanced around, then turned to look behind him, where haas'' own car was being rolled into position for him to pilot.


    erik haas stood at 5''10", his sharp, chiseled features giving him an intimidating, almost f1-ready presence. but his driving hadn''t yet matched his menacing appearance.


    as erik adjusted his helmet, he caught luca''s gaze and gave a thumbs-up. luca returned the gesture. they were here to drill, train, and refine their coordination¡ªbuilding the chemistry they''d need to communicate and perform seamlessly in high-pressure race conditions. s~ea??h the novel(f~)ire.net website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    **alright, lads, here''s the rundown for today''s three drills session**


    the first drill was the soft synchro drill, which was a key, subtle step in the tiered pursuit strategy.


    both drivers would run side-by-side at high speeds while maintaining consistent gaps.


    this drill was meant to improve their spatial awareness of each other in case they found themselves in close proximity on track. the goal was to maintain a safe distance without losing momentum until they developed an unspoken understanding. once a suitable track section presented itself, haas would deliberately allow luca to overtake completely before falling in behind him.


    the second drill was a well-known training exercise called the pace adaptation skill, where tire management and fuel conservation were prioritized while still pushing for optimal ers deployment when necessary.


    the objective was for luca to maintain or extend a three-second lead over haas. if haas managed to reduce the gap by even 0.1 seconds, luca would fail the drill.


    it was crucial to keep a consistent pace, either sustaining or increasing the lead, without excessively consuming fuel or wearing out the tires prematurely. those challenges were best reserved for intense duels.


    the final drill was the tactical overtake drill, which was relatively straightforward. however, the twist in this scenario was that haas was tasked with overtaking luca specifically through the turns. luca, in turn, was instructed to yield, similar to how player b would allow player a to pass in a strategic competitive setting.


    this drill wasn''t intended to contradict the tiered pursuit strategy; rather, it was designed to complement it. the core concept was for luca to willingly relinquish his position when a pit stop was necessary¡ªespecially if he was driving a car with lower performance¡ªwhile haas'' car remained in peak condition and possibly positioned right behind him.


    in such a scenario, luca would allow haas to pass, enabling him to push forward and engage with other competitors. once luca completed his pit stop, he would rejoin the race and take over whatever position haas had secured following the earlier switch.


    **let''s get erik strapped in** mr. ruben ordered the crew.


    luca pulled his visor down, gripping the wheel firmly.


    time to get to work.

 Chapter 160 Spirits High

    on the second day of the following week, trampos racing, specifically the team principals and the drivers, were obliged for a long press interview in the same location in berlin.just like how there were federation stations for all sorts of activities in each motorsport country, there were press venues as well. these venues were responsible for the facilitation of rumours, information, broadcasting, television, interviews, and lots more. and today, trampos were to give an outline of their ambitions for the coming grand prix to the federation, the whole of the competition, and the spectators.


    luca sat next to haas, handing him a cup of coffee as the bus rumbled toward the venue. he believed that small gestures like this went a long way and could help improve their camaraderie, which, in turn, kept them connected on the track for good results.


    luca recalled his early days at trampos and how haas'' first impression had been anything but welcoming. he even remembered making a silent promise to steer clear of haas as long as he remained teamed up with ansel.


    but now, here they were, training for the french grand prix in what would be a critical race that could make trampos lose the lead that they had held since the start of the season.


    they arrived so early that the venue was still nearly empty, with only a handful of fans scattered around, likely those who had come early for a better chance to interact.


    luca had hoped for a more relaxed moment with them, but that hope quickly faded as trampos and federation staff rushed to usher everyone inside, keeping things tightly controlled.


    once in, they were ushered to a simple backroom, mr. grant, ms. vallotton, luca, and haas, for a quick makeover if necessary just to keep them camera-ready.


    a few minutes passed, and they made their way to the long white table with microphones, facing the press and cameras that had strategically set themselves up for perfect picture angles and much more.


    a pang of nostalgia hit luca as he settled into the seat next to mr. grant. ms. vallotton was to the left of mr. grant, and haas was to the left of ms. vallotton. this kept both team principals in the middle of the drivers.


    another flash of the cameras deepened the nostalgic daze that overwhelmed luca at that moment.


    luca had attended countless press sessions over the past months, but those had always been with ansel and mr. grant. now, things were different. ms. vallotton''s presence was a constant, and ansel, once a fixture beside him, was gone, replaced by haas.


    taking a steady breath, luca reached for the bottled water in front of him, sipping slowly as he surveyed the sea of expectant faces of men and women. the reporters'' eyes were locked onto him, waiting.


    luca anticipated this press session to be a tedious one. the press interview after a driver''s recovery was never straightforward, and they were always relentless.


    the questions that would be thrown at him and even his team principals might deviate from simple strategies and what to expect from trampos, prying into luca''s recovery and extra details that never focused on the subject, which was racing.


    luca wondered if this digging into his condition and recovery was a way to know whether he was still the same driver he had been or if the brief pause in driving had brought about a significant change.


    "there are two rounds left in the formula 2 constructor''s championship. trampos is still in the lead, but the margin has been steadily shrinking since the saudi arabian grand prix. my question is, will this decline in points continue into france and beyond? or does trampos have plans to put an immediate stop to it, especially now that..." the reporter''s eyes shifted to luca, and he immediately recognized her from a previous session. "... now that luca is back?"


    "yes, absolutely. or rather, obviously," mr. grant responded without hesitation. "in times like these, our objective is crystal clear. any team leading the standings will do everything in their power to stay there. to maintain our position, we must stop losing points. and to stop losing points, we have to perform even better, securing more points in the process."


    "will luca have a major role to play in this operation of ''securing more points''?" another question came almost immediately.


    "luca has always played a major role in trampos. the french grand prix will be no different," mr. grant replied.


    "can we expect a repeat of the saudi arabian grand prix? and no, i''m not referring to the incident. my question is about the strategy¡ªwhere ansel gave up a position for luca. would we see something similar between luca and erik in france?"


    "yes," mr. grant responded confidently. "both luca and erik will work together to ensure a successful race for trampos."


    flash!


    damnit. the light''s too bright. s§×arch* the novel(f~)ire.net website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "it''s still mind-blowing how trampos took the competition by storm with that move in riyadh. is there a chance it could become a permanent strategy, even when ansel returns from his suspension? and on that note, when will he return?"


    ms. vallotton frowned. she disliked how the press twisted their questions, and this time, she chose to address it head-on. "are you asking if ansel will be back on track anytime soon?"


    a brief pause.


    "...yes, ms. vallotton, that''s exactly what i''m asking. trampos has been silent on the matter and hasn''t given a public timeline for his suspension. is it indefinite?"


    ms. vallotton leaned forward, pulling the microphone closer, ensuring her words were unmistakable.


    "ansel will be a key driver for trampos next season. for now, luca and haas will focus on finishing this season."


    a soft wave of murmurs spread through the press, the weight of her words sinking in.


    the murmur died down seconds later. and from the movement of their eyes, the shift of their body to face him, luca was certain it was time for those unending questions he anticipated.


    luca wasn''t wrong.


    in fact, he underestimated it!


    experience more tales on empire


    twenty¡ªno, almost thirty¡ªminutes of relentless questioning had left his head pounding. his throat was parched, his bottle of water long emptied, and no one had bothered to replace it. not that he had the chance to ask. he''d been too caught up answering, and even if he had, it would only have worsened the pressure in his already-full bladder.


    the first fifteen minutes had been split between him and haas, but after that, the focus had been solely on him. mr. grant and ms. vallotton had slipped away to speak with key figures at the venue, and even haas had taken his leave. luca had been left alone to face the press onslaught.


    he started to wonder if they just wouldn''t stop because he hadn''t put an end to it himself. mallow had taught him that the length of a press session was in the driver''s hands¡ªlegally, he wasn''t even obligated to say after five minutes.


    as another eager reporter prepared to fire off another question, luca finally took control.


    "that will be all," he said, cutting in before they could speak.


    "but could we¡ª"


    "thank you," luca interjected flatly, rising to his feet and offering a short nod.


    flash!


    the camera lights blinded him for a brief moment before he turned toward the exit. an official was already extending a hand in his direction, guiding him away from the room of curiosity.


    luca hurried to the bathroom, finally relieving himself before heading back to rejoin the team. he fell in step behind mr. grant and ms. vallotton as they greeted a group of men and women in black suits, doing his best to be polite and composed.


    once the formalities were over, he and haas were led outside to meet and engage with the fans before they left.


    luca came to an abrupt stop, his eyes widening in disbelief.


    the sheer number of people packed into the open area was staggering.


    the moment he stepped into view, the trampos fans erupted, their cheers and shouts rising in a deafening wave. even with the barricade separating them, their energy was overwhelming.


    "what in the..." luca muttered under his breath.


    he couldn''t even make out individual faces. all he could see was a sea of red and black waving frantically under the afternoon sky. everything blurred together just like the enthusiastic voices. flags, banners... banners of him?!


    above all, one stood out, upheld by the crowd. it was vertical, a striking edit of him with captions all in german.


    funny enough, at first glance, luca didn''t even recognize himself on the banner. but the trampos veststar¡ªred, white, and black¡ªalong with his #21 dallara, its wheels blazing like fire behind him, made it clear. that was him, fist raised in victory.


    what grand prix is that?


    "let''s go, luca," an official urged, gesturing toward trampos'' waiting bus, where mr. grant and ms. vallotton were already boarding.


    "go?" luca echoed. "i thought we''d at least meet with them?"


    that was the reality of sports.


    a crowd this massive made direct engagement nearly impossible, both for safety reasons and sheer practicality. there was no way he could meet every single one of them. the official explained as much, and luca nodded, accepting it.


    luca sighed and followed haas to the bus. as they walked away, the crowd intensified their roar, hoping to draw the team back. but that only reinforced the fact that they were too fierce.


    luca entered the bus, retaking his seat next to haas, who was by the window.


    he buckled up as the bus began to rumble, his eyes moving to the crowd again.


    luca recalled that haas was german, and he needed to understand what some of these boards meant. he pointed to the same banner of him with the fiery dallara wheels.


    "what does that one mean?" he asked. "twenty-five fsch-skish...?"


    haas chuckled. "twenty-five points for luca equals twenty-five points for trampos," he corrected.

 Chapter 161 French Grand Prix Awaits

    a few days later, it was time to get prepared for the flight to france. the itinerary stated that they''d make it to paris first where the team would settle for top notch accommodation and on the day of the race would they drive to le castellet.luca loved the plans, as he had always wanted to fly to paris one day and see for himself what the magnificent city was really all about. he planned to make a few expenses for luxury and smooth tourism, especially since his mother and sister would be in paris as well.


    just like every other day, luca''s mother called him again, pleading that she''d love to watch the f2 french grand prix in person rather than on tv. she couldn''t sit back at home, as she feared the incident in riyadh might happen again.


    luca wondered if she believed her presence would make any difference. his mother being in the grandstands wouldn''t change the mindset of his rivals, nor would it affect their driving and prevent common occurrences like contacts, spinouts, and crashes.


    regardless, luca accepted¡ªnot just because she had disturbed him endlessly, but because he dearly missed her. the loneliness in his new house had begun to haunt him, and every day when he returned from training, the silence was always there to greet him.


    sophia would be heading to france as well¡ªnot that mrs. rennick would ever let her stay alone in the uk for five days. sear?h the nov§×lf~ire.net website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    sophia had successfully been accepted into the university they had all been aiming for. although she was offered a different course within the same field, it was still a great achievement, and luca was proud of her. he thought of using this opportunity¡ªand the luxuriousness of paris¡ªto congratulate her on being accepted into the university. very soon, she''d start school.


    as always, luca began packing his two bags¡ªone a standard traveling bag, the other a duffel bag.


    the traveling bag was for his clothing and essentials, where casual outfits like jeans, t-shirts and his tracksuits were packed. he also folded and packed a few formal dress shirts and plain trousers. they weren''t of the hawthorne brand, and he hoped he wouldn''t have to wear them.


    the traveling bag would also contain some undergarments and socks that would be enough to last the trip.


    there was enough space for his footwear including casual shoes, formal shoes¡ªstill not of hawthorne¡ªand flipflops for when he''s at a hotel or personal space.


    next, he packed his travel documents including his passport, racing license and driver id. after that, he found a good spot to fix his laptop.


    packing his laptop into a bag like the duffel bag never seemed safe to luca, so he always found a way to fix it between two clothes. his duffel bag would contain other devices like his phone charger, the earphones, mp3 player and the headphones.


    his toiletries like toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, cologne, and skincare essentials went into the duffel bag as well. even emergency medications that were required of all drivers to carry would go into the bag.


    before zipping up, luca put in a notebook, a pen, a water bottle, energy bars, a novel and two comics.


    -------------


    before the scheduled flight, a major change altered luca''s travel plans¡ªhe would no longer be flying with trampos.


    luca wasn''t at the level of owning a private jet¡ªat least, not yet. but now, he found himself set to board one, sharing the flight with only a select few.


    mrs. hawthorne had made it increasingly clear that she valued both luca''s safety, luxury and comfort, which meant he would now be flying on one of hawthorne''s private jets, separate from trampos racing.


    this particular jet was a new addition to hawthorne''s fleet, primarily used by just a handful of hawthorne agents who traveled to every grand prix ever since mrs. hawthorne''s growing interest in formula racing this year. now, luca¡ªalong with his own personal team¡ªwould now be tagged the main passengers of this exclusive flight.


    every time luca would step off a hawthorne-branded jet, the press would take notice. the cameras would flash, the branding would be visible, and hawthorne''s presence in motorsports would only grow stronger.


    luca rolled his bag out of his home, double-checking everything before leaving. every window was locked, the kitchen and backyard doors secured, and finally, the front door clicked shut.


    outside the gate, sara and mallow were already waiting in sara''s car. luca pushed his belongings through, swiftly locking the gate behind him and slipping the key into his duffel bag another essential that went in there.


    the trunk hummed open, and luca carefully placed his bags beside sara''s and mallow''s before sliding into the backseat.


    "there''s a song people often sing when traveling to paris," luca mused as he got in. "can either of you remember it?"


    "i think you''re mistaken. it''s not paris," mallow replied.


    "what then?"


    sara started the car. "isn''t paris the city of love?" she asked.


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    luca nodded. "exactly. the song''s about love and togetherness... i think."


    "i''ve never been to paris before. this will be my first time," sara admitted.


    luca smirked. "you know, the song''s about first-timers finding love in the city?"


    "really...?"


    mallow burst out laughing as sara pulled out of luca''s neighborhood. "you... finding love?"


    luca shot him a sharp glare. "what do you mean? are you saying she can''t?"


    mallow shrugged. "sara makes more than most men her age. and she''s tall. trust me, tall women seldom fall in love."


    "jesus christ, mal! how can you say that about me?!"


    mallow stood his ground, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "how tall are you? five eleven?"


    "i''m five ten," sara corrected, grumbling. "and if you must know, i have plenty of men flocking around me!"


    mallow raised his arms as if in victory and sara just added to his claim. "exactly! and are you in love with any of them? no!"


    sara jabbed a finger at him, snapping back as luca leaned into his seat with a sigh.


    luca knew these two already knew each other far before he even came into their lives that day in stadhaven. he checked the time on his phone and it read 6:55 am.


    because of the conversation, he decided to check up on isabella before the flight, knowing he''d soon be out of network range.

 Chapter 162 Bienvenue à Paris

    by 9:30 am, the plane touched down on a local runway, still within the heart of paris. luca carefully removed his earpiece, the music so loud he could still hear it faintly outside the buds.the pilot of the compact plane had announced their imminent descent, and luca quickly obeyed the instructions, his eyes fixed on the patchwork of the city that grew closer with every passing second.


    moments later, the plane''s tires kissed the tarmac with a rumble, followed by a gradual roll down the runway to a final, hissing stop.


    as the engines powered down, luca exhaled deeply, reminding himself he was in a different city now. for some reason, the landing in paris felt different... was it truly the city''s romanticized allure, or was it just his imagination?


    two flight attendants approached, addressing all of them, including the hawthorne officials. the officials numbered four, bringing the total number of passengers to seven, including luca, mallow, and sara. sea??h th§× n?velfire.net website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "welcome, everyone. this is paris now," one of the attendants said casually. she wasn''t formal, likely because the passengers weren''t strangers to her and she knew them all. "you may disembark whenever you''re ready."


    "thank you," one of the hawthorne officials replied, though he made no effort to leave his seat. with his legs crossed, back relaxed, and stoic expression matching his colleagues, he showed no sense of urgency.


    luca wondered how flights on this plane used to go before it became mandatory for him to join. perhaps these men weren''t exactly thrilled about the idea of having luca and his team accompany them.


    he couldn''t blame them. glancing at mallow, who was seated to his right, luca noticed him munching on yet another round of snacks. "oh! thank you, my dear. you''re so gorgeous and beautiful," mallow remarked to the younger flight attendant, making her blush.


    luca, on the other hand, simply nodded in quiet appreciation before reaching for his duffel bag and leaving his seat. he followed sara, who was far more composed and eager to leave the plane to get things done.


    the jet''s interior was sleek and modern, with the hawthorne logo subtly embroidered into the seats. luca had to admit, flying private was something he could easily get used to. no rush, no crowded terminals, no waiting for baggage claims¡ªjust efficiency and luxury.


    the cool parisian morning air was both crisp and warm. standing at the cabin door, luca squinted through the sunlight at the airport''s buildings before descending the airstair with ease.


    just like in barcelona, luca''s arrival in paris was met with a small welcome ceremony. a few wardens stood at the bottom of the airstair, holding leis and vibrant necklaces to commemorate the upcoming racing weekend. as luca descended, he bent his neck slightly, allowing one of them to drape a lei over him before a stunning woman stepped forward, greeting him with two light pecks on the cheeks.


    "your royal grandma mentioned something about a drive, right?" sara asked, watching the small exchange before swiftly removing her own lei and slinging it over luca''s neck, adding to the growing collection.


    "yes," luca replied, glancing past the welcome party to where a group of sleek suvs were parked beyond the tarmac. he pointed towards them. "i hope that''s them."


    "it is," mallow confirmed, his tone laced with excitement as he jogged down the stairs. he accepted his own lei with a grin before receiving the same double-cheek kiss from the woman.


    unlike luca, mallow lingered, his cheeks heating up. on impulse, he offered to return the gesture, and to his delight, she accepted with a playful smile.


    "it is," he repeated, turning back to the group with an exaggerated air of confidence. "we''ll take one. the rest belong to her men."


    before they entered the suv, they ensured they collected their larger luggage. a man dressed in black was already waiting at the driver''s seat when they got in¡ªluca taking the passenger seat, with mallow and sara seated in the back.


    luca provided the driver with the location of trampos'' designated venue for the 11th round of the season. the man, being a native parisian, quickly understood the route and recognized the destination. with a swift turn out of the runway, he exited the airport within a minute.


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    luca anticipated the streets would be lined with flags and motorsport promotional materials, much like the way barcelona had been during the 8th round. however, paris had its own understated approach to celebrating the event.


    instead of overwhelming banners and massive billboards, there were subtle acknowledgments of the upcoming grand prix. small flags adorned with team logos fluttered from lampposts, and shop windows featured mannequins dressed in racing-themed outfits surrounded by miniature racecars.


    here and there, screens displayed videos of f1 cars and drivers, but these weren''t grand displays. they blended seamlessly with the city''s typical advertisements, giving a nod to motorsport without overshadowing paris''s usual charm.


    "it''s quieter than i thought it''d be," sara said, gazing out the window.


    "well, it''s paris," mallow responded. "the race is in le castellet, not here. paris is for ''love,'' remember?"


    sara gave him a sharp look. "what''s with you today?" she asked, but before he could answer, understanding dawned on her. her expression softened, and an "oh¡­" slipped out. lowering her voice, she added, "your honeymoon was in paris, wasn''t it?"


    mallow shrugged slightly, his face unreadable.


    three years had passed since his divorce, and now fate had brought him back to the very city where he and his wife had spent their honeymoon.


    "i''m sorry, man," luca said from the front seat, glancing briefly at mallow before turning his attention back to the road.


    and then it appeared¡ªfar to the right, the eiffel tower stood tall, its iron lattice catching the morning sun.


    the timeless symbol of the city''s elegance seemed even taller than luca had imagined. it pierced the sky, its intricate frame adorned with lights that weren''t yet illuminated. but luca was certain they''d glow brilliantly in the evening, casting the surreal, glimmering look paris was famous for.


    the drive took longer than luca had anticipated, which wasn''t surprising since motorsport facilities were typically situated on the outskirts, far removed from the city''s bustle.


    the driver prioritized luca''s destination, passing by sara and mallow''s intended hotel before continuing farther out of the city.


    eventually, they arrived. the facility resembled a mini stadium, flanked by three towering buildings that stood like rooks guarding a chessboard. after swift security checks, the driver navigated the vehicle into the premises.


    efficiently, he helped unload luca''s luggage, allowing luca a moment to take in his surroundings.


    sara and mallow waved from the car, and luca returned the gesture as their driver reversed out. the tires crunched against the gravel, and moments later, the gate rolled shut, sealing the outside world away. a peaceful silence enveloped the facility, despite the entire trampos crew being inside the buildings.


    "sup, mate?"


    a security guard approached just as luca finished scanning the sky, where the sun shone brightly. the shadows of the towering buildings stretched over a small track in the distance. recognizing the man instantly, luca smirked.


    "bonjour."


    the guard chuckled, hoisting luca''s larger travel bag onto his shoulder. "bonjour to you too, friend."

 Chapter 163 French Grand Prix Awaits 2

    luca reunited with the team that day and settled into the facility. but the very next day, trampos organized themselves to take the long trip to le castellet and visit the circuit for the traditional track walk.it rained heavily on the evening luca arrived, and the following day was no different on the intensity of the precipitation. regardless of the weather, trampos still boarded their biggest bus with the passengers limited to the drivers, team principals, head engineers, and head crew members alone.


    luca put on a red trampos puffed sweater and a pair of thick, black gloves before following the team out of the buildings. a quick sprint under the rain took him to the entrance of the bus before he sat down on one of the seats.


    it didn''t take long; the big trampos bus was filled with men, women, boys, and girls of the german team¡ªtheir destination, another district in france¡ªthe circuit du soleil itself where the french grand prix would have its showdown.


    luca pulled out his phone to reply to some texts and check out some updates. he was glad when he saw up to 99+ messages from the team''s group chat. after several weeks of the chat being dry and unengaged, it seemed everyone had found that energy once more, and the long messages had resumed.


    luca read the recent messages, which focused on their current drive to le castellet. most of trampos had traveled to france, while a few remained in berlin, eager to stay updated on the team''s progress and destinations.


    the heavy rain hammered on the roof of the bus, so loud that everyone could hardly hear themselves. because of this, one crew member started a chant with two occasional claps per chant.


    luca was about to put on his earpiece and crank his mp3 player to the highest volume in order to mute out the sound of the rain, when the crew member beside him began clapping in the same rhythm. that was when luca realized the whole bus had begun a chant.


    luca smiled. he had no choice but to join in, quickly learning the lyrics and clapping in rhythm, battling the sound of the heavy rain together with the team.


    it seemed trampos'' chant had scared the rain, because after an hour of chanting, singing, and jumping in the bus, the rain began to die down, the sheets of water turning into soft droplets.


    yet again, luca believed it was just the change in location that softened the intensity of the rain. after all, the driver announced they were in le castellet and were already nearing the circuit by taking roads that bordered the city.


    the team began to arrange themselves to disembark the bus, especially as the scenery known for circuit du soleil slowly came into view.


    the french circuit was located in the heart of rolling valleys, surrounded by an endless sea of hills and greenery. from afar, it looked like mandalora, but unlike mandalora with rocky terrain, solaris had vegetative terrain. and true to its name¡ªeven with the dull, sombre clouds¡ªit seemed to attract the littlest bit of the sunlight''s golden glow, casting a warm sheen over the damp, green landscape.


    the trampos bus took the winding roads that snaked through the low hills, ultimately leading to the circuit.


    luca pressed his face against the window as they approached. he wondered if the empty lands flanking the road were owned by the french government or the federation itself. they looked well cared for, manicured and groomed as if activities were carried out there.


    a minute later, they reached the first entrance out of six that the circuit had to feature. the scent of the fresh rain still lingered as the crew disembarked, taking in the serene beauty of the setting.


    luca''s gaze shifted upward, landing on the large banner stretched across the entrance. a small smile tugged at his lips. the 11th round, huh?


    he studied the lineup on the billboard¡ªseven drivers standing side by side. marcellus rodnick was in the center, naturally, with davide dimarco next to him, then antonio luigi. max addams was fourth, and right beside him, luca himself, wearing his trampos veststar suit with pride.


    only two f2 drivers had made the banner¡ªhim and max. the last two spots were filled by f1''s hank rice and ailbeart moireach.


    it was a blend of different formula teams'' colors, a blend of top drivers, and luca felt honored to be in the official banner. it would be just a matter of time before he became the first driver on the line, titled formula 1 world champion.


    a sudden shout broke through his thoughts. mccauley was already calling his name. luca blinked, realizing the team had begun moving toward the entrance. he exhaled and jogged to catch up, just as the sky above gave a low, distant rumble.


    it seemed the rain was about to pick up again.


    "hey," mccauley murmured to luca, pointing toward the other side of their bus. "looks like we''re not the only ones here."


    luca followed mccauley''s gesture and saw a larger bus parked just across from theirs. it was a striking cyan color, accented with hints of gold. luca raised an eyebrow¡ªwasn''t only one team supposed to attend a track walk at a time?


    as he stared, he quickly realized that the bus didn''t belong to any f2 team, the colors were foreign.


    this was an f1 team''s vehicle, and they had arrived for the same track session at circuit du soleil.


    the team''s colors and emblem became clearer, and it clicked to luca that this was nordvind racing, a fiercely competitive swedish formula 1 team known for their strong performances in the middle of the pack. their blue and yellow livery mirrored the swedish flag, with their emblem even strikingly similar to the country''s own crest.


    though nordvind had yet to win a championship¡ªoften overshadowed by teams with superior engine manufacturers and cutting-edge technology¡ªthey still consistently performed well, thanks in part to their partnership with their good engine makers, audi.


    "the schedule''s packed," mccauley added, breaking luca''s reverie. "everyone wants to visit the track for the eleventh round. the federation''s pairing f1 teams with f2 teams since there''s no real competition between us."


    luca gave a slow nod, his eyes lingering on the bus before turning to follow the team into the circuit. they entered the main tunnel, making their way toward section 5.


    "wow," luca whispered as he emerged onto the sleek pavement. the circuit was beautiful¡ªfar more beautiful than stadhaven or bahrain''s state-of-the-art circuits. this one, however, had the backdrop of nature, with uninhabited valleys and hills stretching far into the distance.


    luca stood, awed by it all, as it began to drizzle again.


    fifty-five laps awaited him, and fifty-five laps he would complete. a balanced track, it was called¡ª50:50 in tough straights and turns¡ªand luca had always excelled on tracks like this. this would be no different.


    luca''s gaze swept the surroundings, a smile on his face. however, the smile disappeared as soon as he noticed groups of people not wearing trampos'' red.


    yes, he knew nordvind racing was present, but these groups of people weren''t in blue and yellow¡ªthey were in black!


    oh... luca had begun hating the press so early in his career. what were they doing here anyway, with their wires, cameras, and microphones?!


    he quickly dashed toward haas and the rest of the team to escape them. he had come here to enjoy the scenery of solaris, not to spend time answering questions.


    "where is he?"


    luca heard a foreign voice ask.


    after months of being a trampos driver, he could easily distinguish between a teammate''s voice and an outsider''s. it wasn''t that he had memorized every voice, but after spending so much time with the team, there was an intuition that naturally developed.


    "ahhh," the voice sounded again, and luca spun around to see a blond young man with a scanty goatee.


    elias nystr?m.


    nordvind racing''s number-one driver¡ª26 years old, swedish by coincidence. zero world championships, which was understandable, but a decent number of grand prix wins to his name.


    luca hadn''t unlocked the skill to instantly analyze another driver, but after watching countless f1 and f2 races through his racecraft program, he had picked up enough knowledge of the divisions and their top competitors.


    "hello," luca greeted, offering a firm handshake. s~ea??h the n?vel(f)ire.¦Çet website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    elias accepted it, smirking. "i think it''s an honor to finally see f2''s very own mazerunner in person. you''re doing really well, mate. and you look well, too. hope your ribs are okay?"


    luca chuckled. "yeah, they''re fine. i''m ready for action."


    "ready for the 11th round?"


    "yes!"


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    they both laughed, and elias gave luca a friendly tap on the shoulder.


    "regardless, sorry, man. it''s just how this sport is. we put our lives on the line¡ªand sometimes, in the hands of our rivals. and in your case... your teammate. let''s hope for a safer race this weekend, yeah?"


    luca nodded. elias seemed much cooler in person than he did on screen.


    "come on, let me introduce you to james," elias said, gesturing toward the sea of nordvind colors.


    james lockwood was elias'' main teammate. both always did their best to keep nordvind in competitive positions.


    luca followed, eager to get to know as many people as he could. and just like always, during any track walk, the team slowly dispersed under the drizzle.


    --


    a/n: 400 powerstones this week! that''s the highest count so far.

 Chapter 164 Grand Prix de France

    race day: oct. 17, circuit du soleil, le castellet, france.the strongly anticipated saturday arrived to kick off official action in the 11th round, though the 11th round had officially begun with the qualifying sessions held on thursday and friday for formula 2 and formula 1, respectively.


    the starting grid was determined after a traditional fastest point qualifying session for the formula 2 teams. despite getting p3, luca wasn''t happy with his results on thursday.


    the qualifying session was as tough as ever, and with all drivers present on track simultaneously to achieve the fastest lap, it became even tougher¡ªand dangerous.


    the grid setup for this session followed the same structure as riyadh''s, where drivers were arranged alphabetically by their last names. however, instead of the usual descending order, this time it was in ascending order, effectively reversing the grid.


    for instance, a driver named zack butcher, who would typically be in p30, now started at p1 for the session.


    the purpose of this format was, once again, to ensure fairness, providing a balanced and transparent competitive environment, especially since the descending order had already been used previously.


    under this arrangement, luca started at p7, miles at p6, max at p5, and sean aaronson at p3. fortunately for vlad volyinski, he led the pack by starting first. haas, however, wasn''t so lucky, beginning at p21 simply because of his first name¡ªerik.


    the structure didn''t matter, though, because within the first minute of the session, all drivers bunched up with their cars, making it difficult to break away and achieve the fastest lap.


    as the thirty-minute clock ticked down, breakaways began to emerge, and some drivers made impressive attempts. a fastest lap was set, only to be outpaced by another, and then outpaced again by a new contender.


    the cycle continued until the times grew tighter, with the fastest lap becoming harder to beat. sean aaronson eventually set a strong limit of (1:41.456), outpacing luca in the process.


    determined, luca found a good opening to slice through the pack and pushed full throttle to attempt another lap. however, max addams had the same idea and exploited the same space. in the heat of qualifying, the two ended up dueling rather than focusing on achieving the fastest lap.


    a soft contact occurred between luca''s right rear tire and max''s left front tire, sending both cars spinning onto the pristine grass of the beautiful circuit. s§×ar?h the n??efire.¦Çet website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    grumbling, they both got back on track, but their momentum had completely dropped. that lap was a waste, and they had to restart fresh attempts.


    unfortunately, time wasn''t on their side. as the thirty minutes ran out, the session crowned sean aaronson with pole for the french grand prix.


    luca learned later that, during that same lap, someone else had even outpaced his earlier score, snatching p2 from his grasp.


    sean aaronson¡ª1:40.711


    oliver kristensen¡ª1:40.854


    luca rennick¡ª1:41.456


    after accumulating all results, the french grand prix grid had a unique structure, setting the stage for an exciting and challenging 55 laps.


    p1¡ªsean aaronson


    p2¡ªoliver kristensen


    p3¡ªluca rennick


    p4¡ªmiles bellingham


    p5¡ªvlad volyinski


    p6¡ªmax addams


    p7¡ªbenjamin taubert


    p8¡ªalbert derstappen


    p9¡ªdani walding stay connected through empire


    p10¡ªpeter de klerk


    well, haas was just a fraction away from the top 10, his position on the grid today would be p12.


    at the front of the pack, luca stood out in red and black, surrounded by fierce rivals battling for every crucial point as the season neared its conclusion. while only squadra, velocit¨¤, and trampos remained in contention for the constructors'' title, the competition between drivers was far from over.


    fortunately for luca, he had an edge over miles, starting ahead on the grid, and was also three positions above max addams. that positioning could make all the difference. sean aaronson, who would lead the pack from pole, wasn''t a significant threat in the constructors'' race since hatcherk motorsport was already out of contention.


    however, aaronson remained a formidable competitor in the drivers'' championship, making him a direct obstacle to luca''s personal ambitions.


    the french grand prix was a race luca simply couldn''t afford to lose. he had to secure either p1 or p2¡ªthough p1 was clearly the goal. if he failed to finish in one of those positions, then based on the data he studied on tv last night, max addams would clinch the f2 drivers'' championship immediately after this race.


    that is, if max finished p5 or higher.


    luca''s result today was the only thing standing between max addams and an early championship victory¡ªeven before the mega prix.


    this was why he''d been training relentlessly, simulating till his fingers hurt and his eyes ached. mr. moritz had to regulate him and ordered he limit simulating before race day.


    all luca was doing was his best, for himself and for trampos. he hadn''t come this far just for max addams to dominate and farm the formula 2 competition.


    sophia and his mother would be present in the grandstands. they had already arrived in paris, flown to le castellet, and would attend the race.


    like before, luca would visit them after the race, which he planned to win and keep up the streak of winning whenever his mother was in the stands. never would his mother be present and he''d fall short on track.


    the trampos fans needed something to cheer for¡ªnot just trampos'' thin lead in the standings. they would be satisfied and even happier if luca managed a win today. after all, "25 points for luca equals twenty-five points for trampos, right?"


    with loose velcro straps, balaclava and helmet in one hand, phone and headphones in the other, luca walked into the bustling garage after speaking with trampos'' strategists and his esteemed team principals.


    circuit du soleil was filled to capacity, soft cheers ringing out as fans settled into their seats, bought snacks, and waved their flags under the dull sky. luca nodded to the engineers fine-tuning the cars after the final sprint race of the season¡ªone where haas finished an impressive p3, though the top drivers hadn''t participated, and victor placed p7.


    as for the sprint race being the last one, that was true, even though one round remained in the season.


    the federation had structured it that way, ensuring the mega prix had no accompanying sprint race. the goal was to make the feature race the sole focus, with no distractions leading up to the season''s grand finale.


    without a sprint race, all attention would be on the final showdown, heightening anticipation and ensuring that every discussion, every strategy, and every moment of preparation revolved entirely around the mega prix.


    luca walked over to the bench he always used in the garage and sat down.


    he set his #21 helmet and balaclava beside him, then connected his headphones to his phone and navigated to his music player.


    the crew moved around, focused on their tasks, giving luca his space.


    once he found the playlist he wanted, he tapped play, set his phone down, and picked up the headphones. slowly, he placed them over his ears, the ear cups settling snugly against his head. the loud music instantly drowned out the roar of the crowd.


    "...good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the formula 2 french grand prix!"


    "woooohh!"


    "¡­circuit du soleil is anything but its meaning today. the sky is gray, and the sun is nowhere to be seen. the past week has been filled with storms and heavy downpours, and while the track is dry for now, there''s still a lingering chill in the air. let''s hope we might get lucky in today''s feature race and avoid any late surprises from the weather."


    "...the eleventh round of the season comes to an end this afternoon, and then, onto the grand finale¡ªthe mega prix¡ªthe twelfth and final round! jon, can you believe it? we are really wrapping up this season, and what a season it has been! from breathtaking overtakes to controversial clashes, every race has delivered its share of drama. and now, with the championship battle heating up, today''s race could be the deciding moment for some of these drivers!... for max addams!"


    "...p10, peter de klerk...!"


    "...you''re absolutely right, steve! it feels like just yesterday we kicked off the season, and now here we are, one step away from the grand finale."


    "...p9, dani walding...!"


    "...p8, albert derstappen...!"


    "...a beautiful track for racing today! fifty-five laps, le castellet! don''t get fooled by the beauty of the track! unfortunately, we have witnessed a lot of spinouts and crashes in past seasons. let''s hope this grand prix features top action without any danger to our esteemed drivers!"


    "...p7, benjamin taubert...!"


    "...p6, max addams...!"


    "woooohh!"


    "...we have max addams at p6 and the qatari grand prix winner, albert derstappen, at p8! a surprising grid structure! whenever the grid looks like this, we always get what we never expected!"


    "...thirty drivers, fifty-five laps, squadra, velocit¨¤, and trampos make the headlines. luca rennick is back in action in p3! ansel hahn, once again, doesn''t make the lineup! this is the final grand prix of the season!"


    "...p5, vlad volyinski...!"


    "...p4, miles bellingham...!''


    "...p3, luca rennick...!"


    "wooooh!"


    "...p2, oliver kristensen...!"


    "wooooh!"


    "...pole position, sean aaronson...!"


    "wooooh!"


    luca glanced to his right, where a figure in a trampos veststar emerged, gripping his helmet tightly.


    a wave of nostalgia surged through luca.


    for a fleeting second, he thought haas was ansel. but after blinking twice, his brain registered the difference.


    even so, haas looked physically ready. his head was secured well in his balaclava, and his helmet was the final piece of gear to put on.


    the number of people in the garage seemed to increase, and that was when luca knew the time was nearing lights out.

 Chapter 165 Grand Prix de France 2

    luca disconnected his headphones from his phone and placed both devices on the bench before rising to his feet.haas spotted him, nodded, and approached. seconds later, the two trampos drivers met in the middle. they stood eye to eye for a brief moment, sizing each other up, before breaking into a casual dab handshake.


    "are you dialed in?" luca asked, pulling his head sock over his head with smooth, practiced movements.


    "all set," haas replied, his voice slightly muffled beneath his balaclava. "p12 isn''t that bad now, is it?"


    luca chuckled. "it''s fine. we''ll come out on top."


    "boys!"


    luca and haas turned to see mr. ruben approaching them with his usual commanding presence.


    unlike the other crew members and staff dressed in tracksuits, veststars, or other official attire, mr. ruben stood out. he wore a plain white t-shirt that clung tightly to his bulky biceps, blue jeans, and casual sneakers.


    find your next read on empire


    somehow, he managed to look like a spectator and staff member all at once. luca couldn''t fathom how the man pulled it off so effortlessly.


    ever since luca returned to training after the one-month hiatus, mr. ruben had been deeply involved in trampos'' affairs.


    as the chief head engineer, he had naturally stepped back into his role of authority. mr. moritz and colt, who had been managing many of his responsibilities in his absence, had gradually returned those duties, giving mr. ruben full reign at the top of the engineering hierarchy.


    like any sudden shift in team dynamics, luca had initially greeted the change with a healthy dose of skepticism. but, to his surprise, trampos'' recent transitions had proven to be quite beneficial.


    ms. vallotton''s team, for instance, turned out to be a fantastic addition. and ms. vallotton herself? a bold, commanding woman who had played a pivotal role in keeping trampos ahead in the standings. s~ea??h the novel(f~)ire.net website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    her five-month tenure so far had been impressive. while her once-unyielding demeanor had softened slightly, her leadership remained firm.


    luca felt this balance was crucial for the team''s continued success, especially since mr. grant often had a habit of being lenient with crew members who spent more time joking than working.


    as for mr. ruben? he was a different beast altogether¡ªa dog with a toy bone. he cursed and yelled constantly, yet, ironically, never acted on half the threats he uttered. luca found his fiery personality amusing, though he knew others might not share that sentiment.


    as long as mr. ruben communicated effectively during races and luca executed his on-track instructions, there was no issue. the man''s career reputation was stellar, after all. rumors had even circulated among the crew that mr. ruben was planning to retire with trampos.


    "there''s rain in the clouds," mr. ruben announced as he walked up to luca and haas. "i''m pretty sure it''s just hanging out, waiting for you two to get started before it dumps down on us."


    rain? here? at circuit du soleil?


    luca wasn''t shocked¡ªit had rained nearly every day since he''d arrived in france¡ªbut the idea of rain during the race still set him on edge.


    he''d been through one wet race back in stadhaven, and it wasn''t the thrilling challenge he''d imagined as a kid. the car felt less like a precision machine and more like a rebellious teenager, constantly veering off-course at the worst possible moments.


    if there was a seven-year-old in the grandstands, excitedly hoping for rain to "spice things up," luca would''ve gladly handed the kid his helmet. let him experience what it was like to wrestle with a car that barely wanted to stay on the track.


    "let me see for myself," luca muttered. he wanted to know what he was dealing with as he moved towards the garage''s opening. the french grand prix was a must win for him, and bad conditions like poor visibility, wet track, traction loss and poor downforce would make his goal difficult.


    luca peeked out of the garage and glanced up at the sky.


    thick clouds loomed above, nothing but the promise of rain, the kind of rain where blue and orange birds chirp after when it''s gone. the clouds stretched as far as the circuit went with no trace of the golden sunlight circuit du soleil was known for. even the other teams'' crew members stood beneath their caps, glancing upward with wary expressions.


    "woooohh"


    haas, who walked to his side, chuckled. "it wants to wash away this season, i guess," he said.


    luca didn''t respond right away. his mind was already cycling through the implications. even though he simulated in wet conditions, simulations weren''t fully reality. and only a few times he''d trained and had sessions under drizzle¡ªnot even rain.


    he crossed his arms, still staring at the sky. "if it rains, it rains," he said quietly. "all thirty of us have to deal with it. not just us."


    "exactly my point," mr. ruben piped in, walking to his driver''s again as he shot a wicked glare at the federation stewards who came to check on their single-seaters. "all our foes would have the same problem. we just have to be better driving under the conditions, if we can''t be better driving. i don''t know if you get me?"


    luca nodded.


    "we do," haas answered confidently.


    "good. let''s go over things one last time with val and grant," mr. ruben said, already turning on his heel to lead the way. "no time to waste, boys."


    by factoring in the possibility of rain, luca and haas had adjusted their strategy to include two pit stops, with the potential for a third if conditions demanded it.


    however, the fundamental priority of luca''s race remained unchanged. now, more than ever, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing¡ªevery decision and action revolved around ensuring his success.


    for now, the track remained dry, though the sky hung heavy with looming clouds. the atmosphere was tense as the announcement echoed through the circuit: ten minutes till lights out.


    miles bellingham was seated deep in his garage as his team strategists, engineers and mr. mancini reigned him with what to do and what not to do. they anticipated the rain, they anticipated a possible crash for a driver today. miles was planned not to be involved in any crash, even if he was, not the victim... but the aggressor.


    provisional driver''s championship standings (top5) scroll for more.


    position | team | points


    ----------------------------------


    1. | max addams | 155


    2. | miles bellingham | 131


    3. | luca rennick | 126


    4. | sean aaronson | 126


    5. | ansel hahn | 115


    "woooohh!" the roar from the crowd echoed as the drivers'' standings flashed up on the screen, following the team rankings.


    a quick standing ovation rippled through the grandstands as the french national anthem played, a wave of respect for the tradition and the spectacle unfolding before them. vips were introduced one by one, their eyes scanning the grid¡ªthe magnificent, yet empty expanse that would soon be filled with the roar of engines, vibrant team colors, and the adrenaline of the race ahead.


    luca, steadying himself in the midst of the buzz, picked up his helmet, feeling the cool, smooth surface beneath his fingers. he slipped it on, as crew members adjusted his suit with practiced hands, tightening it, ensuring everything was secure.


    it was as if he heard the first drop of rain¡ªa whisper¡ªtouch the pavement to their garage and he glanced in the direction. no, he was certain that was the first drop of the rain.


    the first drop of rain had just hit the track.


    a few more followed, and soon, a gentle drizzle started to blanket the circuit, giving it an unexpected, refreshing sheen.


    "...five minutes till lights out!"


    "...all drivers are required to roll their cars to their respective grid positions!"


    [ding!]


    [daily quest has been issued!]


    "i see."


    [-¡¤-attain 6 overtake points in this 55-lap race-¡¤-]


    [duration: nil]


    [this will help improve your overall overtaking skill and attributes related to it, making you use and implement them better.]


    [reward for completing saturday''s daily quest: (exp)


    -strength +1


    -agility +1


    -intelligence +1


    ~unlock a new skill (early reveal)!!!!!!!!


    -slipsense & rainborne +2 ]


    [consequence for failing saturday daily quest: punishment


    -nil.]

 Chapter 166 French Grand Prix

    this was, by far, the best daily quest luca had ever received from his system. right on time was an excellent way to describe it.luca had always secretly wondered if the formula 1 system had a skill that could help him handle all aspects of wet-weather racing and reduce the risks of spinouts or other potential dangers that might come his way.


    and just as the drizzle began, just as all the single-seaters were prepped to roll out, his system assigned him a remarkably timely daily quest with an equally impressive skill attached.


    slipsense & rainborne? luca thought. nice. i have a strong guess about what it''s for, but can you give a better description?


    [description of skill will be available to host upon unlocking.]


    "okay." luca sighed inwardly.


    to unlock it, he needed to earn six overtaking skill points. that would require approximately 10¨C14 successful overtakes, according to the advanced bundle.


    it''ll be tough, but fair enough, he thought.


    normally, the rewards for daily quests were attribute points, but this one came with a surprising bonus¡ªa skill that would undoubtedly help him navigate any rain-related challenges in this race and future ones in his career.


    yet again, the track was getting wetter even with the slight drizzle. and he''d have to drive first to attempt the daily quest.


    "thank you," luca said to the crew once his suit was ready. he and haas climbed into their cars and stayed put while the team worked to secure them tightly.


    [synchronizing host....]


    [synchronization complete]


    [host is now synced with dallara (f2 04)]


    after assessing and analyzing the car, luca''s system confirmed it was ready to be driven and operating at optimal performance. seconds later, he synced seamlessly with the machine that housed a powerful b-level engine.


    luca shot the crew a thumbs-up before gripping the wheel as he and his teammate were towed out of the garage.


    "let''s go!!!!!!" mccauley hyped up the crew, his voice rallying them into loud cheers.


    "woooohh!" the crowd erupted as all thirty cars rolled out of their garages and onto the pit lane with an ominous grace, their engines growling like beasts ready for battle.


    almost immediately, luca felt the first droplets of rain tapping against his car''s frame and helmet. it was a light drizzle¡ªthe kind that crept under your skin no matter how thick the veststar was¡ªand left a lingering chill.


    "...sean aaronson starts at pole today, leading the drivers to the grid, proudly in orange and black! a tough fallout for hatcherk motorsport, but their top driver begins this french grand prix at pole, and who knows? he might just have a shot at the ultimate prize¡ªthe formula 2 drivers'' championship!"


    as the pit lane opened, the towing cars peeled away, leaving the drivers to navigate the grid on their own.


    through his visor, luca spotted kristensen''s bright violet dallara and instinctively followed it toward the first row, stopping just behind the pole box where aaronson was already stationed.


    the marshals moved efficiently, waving each driver into position and ensuring every car was perfectly aligned. and then, the moment came¡ªthat brief, haunting silence before the red lights began to flash.


    the radio crackled to life, and mr. ruben''s voice came through, loud and clear. **sixth sense application, boys. seconds to light, full focus**


    luca exhaled softly, his breath briefly fogging his visor before it cleared. his upper body still felt the creeping chill, but the heat from the chassis had already warmed his lower half. "are we set?" he asked haas, who responded positively.


    "...what do we expect from luca rennick upon his return? starting at p3, can he convert and make up for lost points?! luca rennick and erik haas are on the grid for our table leaders in this french grand prix!"


    luca''s mind wandered briefly to ansel.


    was his friend watching this race? probably.


    he could picture it clearly: ansel in his living room, emma asleep in his arms, laura resting her head on his shoulder, the lights-wait sequence glowing on their tv. the image felt too vivid to be anything but real.


    if ansel was watching, luca hoped he felt a pang of regret. he should have been the one on this grid, not haas.


    tiered pursuit strategy, dual advanced strategy¡ªnone of it mattered as racing to secure high points for the team was the priority, especially in formula 2 .


    the first red light flashed on, and luca revved his single-seater, determination surging through him. he was set on a mind-blowing start. grid launch. oliver kristensen would never even see it coming.


    before the rest of the lights appeared, luca stole one last glance at the grandstands, scanning the blurred masses of roaring fans. then, he locked his focus on the slick track ahead, watching the drizzle scatter in tiny beads against his car''s frame. by now, the heat in the cockpit had spread through his body, warming him completely.


    all five lights went out.


    it was time to get back to winning.


    luca slammed the throttle, his body jerked back in response. and with an already tight grip on the wheel, all he had to do was swerve violently and voil¨¤, he brought himself alongside kristensen already! s§×arch* the novelfire.net* website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [grid launch +1]


    [sync bar: [][][][] 12.5%]


    "woooohh!"


    "and it''s lights out in fran¡ª!"


    "...luca rennick with an absolute rocket of a start! he''s already alongside kristensen before they''ve even cleared the launch zone!"


    **very good** mr. ruben praised, already seeing what mr. moritz and mr. colt had been telling him about luca''s driving.


    this was the first official race he''d radio with luca, so he was determined to see and witness for himself.


    look at the spike of that telemetry!


    miles, sitting at p4 and plotting an early, unexpected overtake on luca, was left jaw-dropped as luca''s dallara surged out of immediate reach. luca dragged p2 alongside kristensen, their cold tires struggling for grip but refusing to falter.


    the track wasn''t wet enough yet to trouble the tires, but every driver found themselves grappling with the challenge of weaving out of the launch zone after clustering tightly together.


    circuit du soleil featured twelve turns and five distinct straights. of these straights, the longest stretched 820 meters, while the shortest was 350 meters, primarily used to connect the middle turns and provide a brief reprieve from the continuous curves.


    the home straight ranked second in length, while the other two straights served similar purposes as the 350-meter one.


    this was a good track for racing if you wanted to test and find the best drivers out of the lot. but at the same time, this track had been petitioned to be shut down countless times because of its high crash count.


    crashes were already a part of its reputation, and now the wet track added a whole new layer of danger.


    the rain wasn''t letting up, and with the dark clouds and thunder rumbling above, it felt like it was only going to get worse.


    was this really the track these drivers wanted to take on today?


    the first turn had a warning sign indicating steepness near the inner lane, one of many precautionary measures put up after multiple petitions due to past accidents.


    luca knew the risks of taking the steep inside line, even on a dry track. but today, he felt confident he could pull it off.


    as aaronson led them into turn 1, luca stayed behind kristensen for a moment before making his move. he tilted, bent, and dove for the inside line.


    by the time they reached turn 2, luca smoothly emerged, his car naturally transitioning to the outside lane as he moved into p2, smoothly relegating kristensen.


    [2nd position]


    "...luca rennick in p2!"


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    "woooohh!"


    trampos crew had to clap in their garage for that magnificent overtake.


    [data displayed in real time:


    -car speed: 252 km/h


    -heart rate: 110 bpm


    -operational status: 95% (very good)


    -breathing: calm & steady


    -distance covered: 600m


    -time: 15 sec.]

 Chapter 167 French Grand Prix 2

    an extreme battle for p1 could begin there and then between luca and aaronson as they dove into turn 2, keeping good driving delta, the other drivers moving in sync like a snake.kristensen, now a second behind luca after being pushed back, was still recovering from the rapid launch.


    for a brief moment, he had expected luca to receive a penalty for jumping the start before the lights disappeared, but no such penalty came. his team engineers quickly reassured him that luca''s burst was fair and was right on time.


    determined not to lose another podium spot, kristensen became fully aware of miles closing the gap.


    he had no shot at the final trophy¡ªneither did retona¡ªbut that didn''t mean he wouldn''t fight for a win or a podium finish just like he had in qatar.


    every driver had something to gain: bonuses, pride, and personal achievements, even if no trophy awaited them.


    so, while the title race had narrowed to just a few contenders, the overall competition hadn''t diminished. if anything, it had intensified.


    drivers like aaronson, despite having no title hopes for his team, would still do everything in their power to keep rival teams from scoring big.


    such was the paradox of sport.


    "...sean aaronson maintains the lead out of turn 4, it''s a soft race here but the tension is high as luca rennick aims to take p1!"


    [analyzing dallara (f2 04) and host''s distance from 1st position]


    [you are 1 seconds away, host.]


    **max addams in p5** mr. colt chimed into the radio, alerting luca about both he and trampos'' major threat to the championship trophy.


    "...max addams takes the inside line as well and rounds past vlad volyinski! bad from the retona boys there! same fate to both drivers, and velocit¨¤''s max addams moves to p5!" s§×ar?h the novelfire.net* website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "woooohh!"


    [3rd position closing in]


    luca was certain kristensen would be bummed and angry because of what just happened at the start. and as they made it into turn 4, the first straight approaching, luca anticipated him to make a move.


    [analyzing 3rd position''s distance from host and dallara (f2 04)...]


    [3rd position is 1 sec away, host.]


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    [system''s prediction: that value might remain constant]


    luca wanted to shrug off kristensen''s looming threat and go straight for an early lead. but deep down, he knew pushing too hard too soon in a 55-lap race wasn''t the smartest idea.


    he was running on soft tires, and his f2 dallara chassis wasn''t built for the same durability as the more advanced f1 cars.


    so, he decided to dial back his aggression, pacing himself carefully. the last thing he needed was to draw unnecessary heat from the entire pack¡ªalthough, let''s face it, he was already in the spotlight after his big return.


    even so, being the collective target of the grid wasn''t ideal. luca needed the others to fight each other just as much as they fought him. only then could he exploit an opening and make his move.


    [420m straightaway ahead]


    "...aaronson exits turn 4 still in the lead! the race may have just started, but luca rennick is right on his tail, already threatening to snatch p1!"


    "...kristensen, though, isn''t backing down either! he''s within a second of luca, and with that first straight ahead, he''s got one goal¡ªactivate drs and reclaim what he lost at the start!"


    [reanalyzing...]


    [3rd position is 1 sec away, host.]


    [system''s prediction: that value would reduce not in your favour]


    "ah? drs? it''s too early for that, mate, isn''t it?!"


    luca held back the urge to engage his own drs as he sped down the short straight as fast as he could in pursuit of aaronson, who was tilting into turn 5.


    a one second delta was too close for luca to hinder kristensen''s offence. he maintained composure as kristensen''s violet dallara slipped in to his right before the right-hander, and made turn 5 first.


    "...oliver kristensen at p2!"


    "woooohh!"


    [3rd position]


    luca watched as kristensen''s brake lights flashed, his rear wing snapping shut¡ªdrs disengaged.


    that was an unnecessary use of drs this early, luca thought.


    how many pit stops had retona planned for him? if three, they might need to consider a fourth after that wasteful activation.


    [4th position closing in]


    "calculate distance. that''s miles."


    [analyzing 4th position''s distance from host and dallara (f2 04)...]


    [4th position is 1.5 sec away, host.]


    [system''s prediction: that value might remain constant]


    a 1.5-second gap was solid for this stage of the race. mr. ruben advised him to keep it steady while also praising him for unsettling kristensen.


    luca had forced him to reveal his desperation, his fragility, his hunger for the front. mr. ruben also assured luca kristensen won''t be in p2 for long.


    for now, keeping miles from claiming p3 was more important than chasing p2 again.


    aaronson and kristensen''s teams were already out of the title fight, but miles'' squadra corse jnr wasn''t. shutting him down first seemed like the smarter play. once that was handled, luca could make his move again.


    it seemed like a good on-track plan, and luca liked it.


    he followed closely behind kristensen as they approached the sharp turns 5 and 6¡ªa chicane that marked the first real test of solaris'' treacherous design.


    luca''s eyes sharpened as kristensen''s car veered toward the bottleneck of the curve, his tires biting into the grass and shredding its pristine surface.


    for a split second, luca thought this might be kristensen''s early downfall. but despite the near misstep, kristensen managed to hold his line, recovering just in time to flow behind aaronson into the next turn.


    "woooohh!"


    luca, on the other hand, navigated the arc with pure finesse.


    he could feel the problems kristensen encountered with that bottleneck, as if his rear tires wanted to move the opposite and ignore the front tires'' direction.


    however, his high stats ensured that unless he was caught in a direct battle, being hunted down, or under extreme pressure, no track¡ªregardless of its complexity¡ªcould shake him or his car, literally.


    if it could be driven, he would drive it.


    luca''s smoother navigation had broken the one second gap, bringing him to just under a second behind kristensen. still, he made no aggressive moves, keeping both the team''s strategy and the upcoming solaris track layout in mind.


    [400m cliff straightaway ahead]


    **maintain downforce**


    "¡­sean aaronson leads the pack onto the drop! the track slopes down!"


    from the grid up to this point, the track had been gradually rising¡ªso subtly that the drivers barely noticed. even though they had all track walked circuit du soleil before the race, experiencing this descent at high speed was another level entirely.


    aaronson was already vanishing from sight, barreling down the slope, while kristensen had just crested the top. luca followed close behind, applying his brakes as advised.


    [you have reduced speed.]


    as luca reached the peak, a fleeting sensation of standing atop the world washed over him.


    in a millisecond, he took in the rolling green valleys and mist-covered cliffs in the distance, the glittering mediterranean channels below¡ªbefore snapping his focus back to the race.


    kristensen had finished his descent with blistering speed. aaronson was already attacking the next curves.


    luca let go of both throttle and brake.


    braking mid-descent could send the car into an uncontrollable somersault¡ªsomething he had been specifically warned against.


    instead, he allowed gravity to pull him down at nearly 350 km/h.


    yes, this was where many had lost control and scored zero points.


    [system detects loss of speed control.]


    [host is involuntarily moving at 310 km/h.]


    zzzzzzzz¡ªzip!


    luca''s car slashed through the air as it rocketed downward. the moment he felt his tires regain grip, he carefully pressed the brake, resisting the urge to slam it down, avoiding the fatal somersault.


    by the time he reached turn 7, his speed had dropped to 210 km/h and he had control. another track structure mastered.


    trampos crew clapped watching luca enter turn 7. the slope straight was a huge problem and they were glad he''d navigated it with no signs of hesitation while at the top.

 Chapter 168 French Grand Prix 3

    approaching the final racing sector of the circuit, luca noticed it might take him exactly one-second less to finish the first lap of the french grand prix when compared to his fastest lap set on thursday.after making it through the last turns and down the home straight, luca''s prediction was right because it even took him exactly 1-second less than his thursday''s 1:41.456.


    [2nd lap]


    still in p3, luca remained unaware of just how many people were gathered in the corporate suites above.


    each man and woman, dressed in either gallant or official attire, belonged to a specific group, organization, or team. their presence today could be attributed to the season drawing to a close, naturally increasing interest and viewership.


    however, another possibility was that they were here to evaluate the f2 drivers, watching intently as they zipped past one by one, confidently completing the first lap under the drizzle.


    perhaps this was just the usual end-of-year evaluation, where nothing significant would come of it. or perhaps some f1 teams were looking to make adjustments¡ªwhether reshuffling their squads, promoting talent from their junior teams, or outright purchasing a new driver.


    whatever the case, these men and women were here to solidify the assessments they had made throughout the season, from bergwaldring to this very moment¡ªsolaris.


    obviously, luca hadn''t escaped their notice.


    an italian national, 19 years old now, spawned out of nowhere and took the feeder series by storm.


    five podium finishes out of seven races participated under ten rounds.


    three race wins with no previous years of subtle growth and gradual built-up.


    luca rennick had been targeted like a hunter targets a wild boar.


    though his fallout in riyadh and his absence in doha had temporarily removed the crosshairs from him, it was back once again, their eyes never leaving him and others on the list the very moment [grid launch] began the french grand prix in a mind-blowing way.


    entering turn 1 again, luca heard the crowd lower their cheers, and his eyes flicked up to the clouds. a low rumble echoed across the sky, followed by a deep growl and a distant flash of lightning.


    he wondered how cold and windy it was on the outside, considering he had begun to feel only fairly warm in his cockpit¡ªnot hot.


    at the same time, his tires were begging for new heat, and the frame of his car had started exuding more warmth, causing any drizzle that touched it to evaporate instantly upon contact.


    [4th position closing in] sea??h th§× n??el fire.n§×t website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [analyzing 4th position''s distance from host and dallara (f2 04)...]


    [4th position is 0.9 sec away, host.]


    miles had gotten closer, aiming for an attempt on p3 which means he''d be luca''s first duel in this french grand prix.


    as soon as the notification blared, luca gripped the curve of his wheel tighter, his right thumb softly hovering over the brake bias button and tapping carefully when needed as he navigated with ease through turn 2 and into turn 3, sticking to the steep, inside lane.


    miles could see aaronson''s car in the distance, pulling away from the rest of the pack, with kristensen pushing hard to close the gap and catch up.


    however, luca, who was just ahead of him, wasn''t making any real effort to chase down p1¡ªhis frequent brake lights made that clear.


    miles began to wonder if luca planned on seeing him out of competition first before taking on the leaders ahead. as he could recall, luca often did that snap of a finger speed and driving in almost every race, taking him to the very top of the leaderboard.


    realizing his suspicion was more than just a hunch, miles clenched his teeth. "sly bastard," he muttered into his padded helmet, deciding he wouldn''t let himself be held back any longer.


    he was five points ahead of luca in the standings but trailed max addams by 24. staying in p4 wasn''t an option¡ªnot even at this early stage of the race. and with max just two seconds behind him on the leaderboard, he couldn''t afford to hesitate.


    miles growled luca''s name and went for the outside lane.


    luca maintained his trajectory and speed through turn 3, allowing the track''s natural flow to guide him from the inside line to the outside. miles, positioned on the outside, followed the curbs to the inside, emerging ahead at the apex.


    luca scoffed as miles'' golden-painted gearbox slid into view, his brake lights flashing.


    [4th position]


    the exchange wasn''t over, so luca didn''t react. he knew miles'' momentum would inevitably force him to obey the final bend.


    as expected, luca smoothly reclaimed the inside line, retaking p3 while max rounded the outside, maintaining his position.


    [3rd position]


    it felt less like a battle for the leaderboard and more like a silent message of competition exchanged between them.


    luca kept an eye on miles'' reflection as they hit the first straight, releasing the brake quickly and clutching the throttle. he trusted miles to be smart enough to refrain from using drs.


    fortunately, miles was. his former high school classmate relied solely on his sombercore''s natural speed to push down the straight.


    another growl of thunder rumbled over the roar of engines. and then luca could hear the rush of rain rolling down from the horizon.


    **ah, it''s coming, boys**


    "woooohh!"


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    a rising hiss rushing through the valleys coming their way, luca could see it even. a sweeping tide, the hammering sound probably due to the heavy rain droplets hitting the hills and nearby river channels.


    all teams quickly began to speak to their drivers on precautionary steps. rain would never stop an official race, the federation had made this clear.


    **y''know what to do?**


    "toggle mode 6," luca replied, already adjusting his chassis to that by pressing the respective buttons. this was to make traction control one of the most important objectives now.


    **good!** mr. ruben replied, nodding to mr. moritz as he also relayed similar information to haas, who had dropped to p15. **set brake bias +2% front as well and stay off kerbs!**


    "understood," luca replied, doing as he was ordered. he also activated windscreen heat to dry up rain droplets for better visor clarity. by then, the droplets on his car''s frame had become heavier, pounding one by one as the rain approached from the valleys.


    "...the drizzle is turning into something much heavier now! another growl of thunder overhead, and you can hear the rain sweeping in from the far side of the circuit!"


    "woooohh!" the crowd cheered under sheltered grandstands.


    that seven-year-old boy must have gotten his prayer answered because, seconds later, the pounding on luca''s car''s frame became heavier and rhythmic.


    soon enough, the simple drizzle turned into the full-blown downpour.


    [3rd lap]


    the asphalt darkened without delay and sheets of rain engulfed the circuit. luca''s visor was peppered with droplets, and he used strips to flick them away as quickly as they came, but visibility was already suffering.


    he could still see those ahead¡ªtheir taillights actually through the storm as they repeated the track once more.


    **tire temps will drop fast, don''t panic**


    luca steadied his breath, adjusting his controls as any instruction was relayed to him. he asked his system to give him definite values of how far kristensen was.


    [analyzing dallara (f2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd position]


    [you are 3 seconds away, host.]


    **we''re getting reports of aquaplaning in sector 6¡ªkeep it tidy through there!**


    "sector 6? lapped rivals?"


    **yes**


    aquaplaning is simply a situation where a car''s tires lose contact with the road surface due to a layer of water. instead of gripping the asphalt, the tires glide over the water, causing a complete loss of traction. this makes the car uncontrollable, as steering, braking, and acceleration become ineffective.


    "ouuuhhhh!"


    before luca could understand what the uproar was for, his eyes caught waving, wet yellow flags beside the track.


    he wanted to be certain, so he darted his eyes to the trackside lights... flashing yellow as well. someone had lost it.


    **yellow flag, luca. first of today. the rain will sieve you all out today. the best would be left. align your car**


    luca let out a short laugh. mr. ruben''s statement was funny mostly because he was nervous at the moment.


    driving on a well-known dangerous track under dangerous conditions was clawing at him. especially with his mother somewhere in the grandstands.


    "... arnold mcpaul is off at turn 11!" the commentary cried to the hearing of only those watching on tv and not to the grandstands again. the rain had drowned out any other sound. "...the downpour has claimed its first victim!"


    [4th position closing in]


    [5th position closing in]


    luca had extra problems.

 Chapter 169 French Grand Prix 4: Racing On The Bank of Rain

    [7th lap][host hasn''t unlocked skills to adapt to wet weather conditions]


    "i knowwww, system. don''t rub it in."


    [4th position closing in]


    unlike luca and miles, who were in their first year of formula racing competiton, max was in his fifth. this made his driving experience under the rain high, alongside other drivers like aaronson and derstappen.


    the heavy rain proved challenging, but max navigated it far better than luca, who was yet to unlock slipsense & rainborne. and in the 5th lap, max was able overtake miles whom he hated as much as luca.


    "woooohh!" the crowd had cheered once max''s blue-and-black dallara made a perfect, swift line that miles couldn''t deny him.


    so as luca''s system alerted him that 4th position was closing in, it wasn''t referring to a squadra corse jnr dallara anymore.


    "...and there goes max addams into p4! what a beautiful move on bellingham! textbook racing under wet conditions¡ªhe saw the gap, committed, and made it look effortless!"


    luca''s grip on the steering tightened as he caught a faint reflection of max''s livery in the spray-filled mirror. not good.


    [analyzing 4th position''s distance from host and dallara (f2 04)...] find adventures at empire


    [4th position is 2 sec away, host.]


    that was a good delta for luca against his top rival on the standings. he weaved through the early turns, his tires tearing through the wet track and spraying a sheet of water behind him.


    the first few turns and straights were manageable under the rain, but navigating further became a serious challenge¡ªespecially at the turn 5¨C6 chicane, the drop, which had every team principal on edge whenever their drivers zipped downward.


    turns 9 and 10 were equally treacherous, and turn 11''s sweeping u-turn, which reversed the track''s direction toward the home straight, only added to the struggle.


    it was at turn 11 that arnold mcpaul of ashton motorsport suffered a spinout due to hydroplaning.


    the safety car had been deployed swiftly, yet it exited just as quickly, barely disrupting the race. that was likely because mcpaul''s car had veered completely off the track, skidding over the soaked grass before slamming into the exterior barriers.


    [reanalyzing...]


    [4th position is 1.5 sec away, host.]


    luca had managed to shut down miles from p4. but at what cost? now, a much fiercer driver was right behind him, driving over the flooded track as if he cared less of the impact on the tires.


    "...oh my! look at the speed addams charges with on the wet track. the rain doesn''t seem to bother him at all right now! he goes after rennick!"


    "woooohh!"


    first encounter between luca and max was about to go down in the french grand prix, and the very figures in the corporate suits, including mr. fisher himself and the corresponding president of bueseno velocit¨¤ sat upright to see what would be made out of it.


    [corner chopping had failed due to wet track]


    [system detects unstable traction] sea??h th§× n?velfire.n§×t website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...this is the battle we''ve been waiting for! luca has held his own, but max is a different beast! with just a race left in the season, this fight could decide who enters the finale as the championship leader!"


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    target: luca rennick // #21 //


    agent: mrs. coastfield | team: ¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€ | circuit: circuit du soleil


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    driver assessment ¨C past and current observation


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ¡ªraw prowess: 71¡ª82


    ¡ªracecraft: 80¡ª90


    ¡ªfortitude: 70¡ª78


    ¡ªspeed science: 80¡ª95


    ¡ªtacticality: 85¡ª95


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ? overall driver score: 80¡ª83


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    with up to two hundred pages in their clipboards, they''d be able to scratch out and make new drafts, aligning current values with past, current performance with past to give verdicts and jot down as follows.


    seated elsewhere, another esteemed figure sat with legs crossed, his sharp eyes locked on max addams as the 7th lap got underway, watching as he chased down luca.


    unlike luca, whose f1 potential spanned across all ten f1 teams, max was more or less bound to bueseno velocit¨¤¡ªthe very team this figure represented.


    for a driver like max, being scouted by rival f1 teams was difficult. everyone knew he was part of a junior team under a senior outfit, so other teams never really considered him an option. it just didn''t make sense to put him on their list.


    a frustrating position for max. he wasn''t just waiting for an opportunity¡ªhe was waiting for acknowledgement.


    if the senior team didn''t call him up, he''d be stuck, while other f1 teams wouldn''t even think of making an offer, assuming he was already spoken for.


    perhaps this season would be different. perhaps this would finally be the year bueseno velocit¨¤ pulled him up from mr. lugo''s administration and into the top division.


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    driver: max addams // #13 //


    agent: mr. stock | team: bueseno velocit¨¤ | circuit: circuit du soleil


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    driver assessment ¨C past and current observation


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ¡ªraw prowess: 90¡ª95


    ¡ªracecraft: 75¡ª85


    ¡ªfortitude: 87¡ª92


    ¡ªspeed science: 80¡ª95


    ¡ªtacticality: 85¡ª95


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ? overall driver score: 85¡ª88


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    "woooohh!" the crowd roared as max''s car sliced through turn 5''s treacherous bend. his tires momentarily left the track, tearing into the grass before quivering under the stream of rainwater flowing downhill. somehow, they regained traction just in time to follow luca into turn 6.


    luca managed the turn fairly well, though with far more difficulty than he had the previous six times. max was closing in, and luca''s pulse raced¡ªnot just from fear of what the duel might bring, but from the anticipation of it.


    [analyzing 4th position''s distance from host and dallara (f2 04)...]


    [4th position is 0.8 sec away, host.]


    [system''s prediction: that value would reduce and not in your favor.]


    mr. moritz and mr. ruben were confident luca would emerge victorious from the duel. their confidence mostly relied on the fact that the drop straight was next, and with the rain, it made the track even more treacherous.


    leading into the straight, luca''s tires would churn up a relentless wall of spray, obliterating visibility for anyone trailing too closely. max would have only two choices: back off before the straight to avoid the hazard or stay within a second of luca and risk driving blind at high speeds, something that could easily end in disaster.


    as luca snaked toward the apex of turn 6, it became clear max wasn''t going to back off. he was hell-bent on climbing the leaderboard as early as possible.


    "...rennick leads into the drop, and this is where things get absolutely brutal under these conditions!"


    "...addams refuses to back down! they''re both charging to the top!"


    "woooohh!"


    max only feathered his brakes as he approached the peak of the slope, while luca had already gained a split-second advantage and begun his descent.


    milles followed suit, letting his front tires grip the opposite slope of asphalt just as his rear tires cleared the crest. a second later, he was a streak of blue trailing behind luca, the pair carving an l-shaped trajectory into the mist.


    [system detects loss of speed control.]


    [host is involuntarily moving at 310 km/h.]


    zzzzzzzz!


    **yes! you''re spraying him. good!**


    "...look at that spray! it''s like a wall of mist¡ªmax can barely see a thing..!"


    "woooohh!"


    luca grinned as he gripped his wheel tighter. he wasn''t in control of his car, but soon he should be and he had to be ready to retake control of his tires that churned up a thick sheet of water like a beautiful fabric of curtain behind him, blocking max''s view down the slope.


    however, max remained unfazed.


    his only concern was nailing his exit, ensuring he''d know exactly when the slope ended to avoid slipping off the track and zipping out of bounds. while his team radio might provide alerts, nothing beat having clear visibility for his own intuition.


    worrying about the slope itself or the wall of spray ahead? not a chance.


    max trusted gravity to do its job while locking onto luca''s rear lights as a guide. the drop straight had no turns, just a steep descent, making it a matter of holding steady and committing fully.


    if he made it through unscathed, he''d have the perfect chance to overtake luca due to the rule of a:b momentum where the trailing driver (b) often gained an edge over the leading driver (a) thanks to factors like exit speed, earlier adaptation over driver (a), and even the slightest slipstream advantage.


    "...and yet, he''s not backing off! max addams is staying right in luca''s wake, fully committing to this treacherous stretch..!"


    "woooohh!"


    "...this is some high-risk racing! if max doesn''t time this right, he could lose grip and aquaplane straight off the track!"


    [speed control detected!]


    [traction still unstable!]


    luca gripped the wheel, his fingers hovering over the brake bias as he tapped the brake softly. he tilted sharply¡ªalmost too sharp.


    "woooohh!"


    however, it was enough as his rear tires sent a massive wave of water spraying off to the right, soaring high above the grass before crashing against the barriers.


    "woooohh!" the crowd in that section roared because the water almost splashed them.


    that was close! luca thought as he tilted again to keep control. he had unknowingly caused a drift, but he wondered if this drift was actually a method to safely leave the drop while under the rain.


    exit the drop¡ªregain control¡ªturn 7 was just next, its bend displaying the green, soaked grass and the well-built stands¡ªtilt sharply, rear tires would wobble away, but front tires would grip well enough... if lucky.


    "woooohh!"


    luca glanced at his side mirror for max''s reflection under the storm. he thought he saw nothing, but for a split second¡ªjust the perfect speed of a spinout single-seater¡ªmax''s car''s reflection zipped out of the drop and that bend luca just described and into the grass.


    "woooohh!"


    "...and max is off! max addams is off into the grass!"


    "woooohh!"


    **yes!!!**


    "....unbelievable! he just lost it on the exit! can he recover? he''s skidding! look at the spray! he''s fighting it¡ª!"


    luca clenched his fist in victory!


    yes! he celebrated inwardly as he glanced to his side, rounding turn 7.


    there he could see max''s car in the open grass field, sliding like a sled on snow. his tires kicked up more water than luca did as he held on brake, and this time, it did reach some spectators, the one below.


    "woooohh!"


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    target: luca rennick // #21 //


    agent: mrs. coastfield | team: ¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€ | circuit: circuit du soleil


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    driver assessment ¨C past and current observation


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ¡ªraw prowess: 71¡ª82


    ¡ªracecraft: 85¡ª95


    ¡ªfortitude: 70¡ª78


    ¡ªspeed science: 85¡ª97


    ¡ªtacticality: 88¡ª97


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ? overall driver score: 83¡ª85


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    "...he''s sideways! max is completely sideways out of the drop!"


    max was drifting involuntarily just like luca had. however, max couldn''t get his rear under control. so much for trailing behind luca down the drop.


    now, he was fighting with his car, the back not sticking and it was sliding so easily.


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    driver: max addams // #13 //


    agent: mr. stock | team: bueseno velocit¨¤ | circuit: circuit du soleil


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    driver assessment ¨C past and current observation


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ¡ªraw prowess: 90¡ª95


    ¡ªracecraft: 70¡ª80


    ¡ªfortitude: 87¡ª92


    ¡ªspeed science: 77¡ª85


    ¡ªtacticality: 75¡ª72


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ? overall driver score: 81¡ª84


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    [4th position closing in]


    with max still battling it out with his wheel, the crowd roaring and the rain at its peak, more drivers were taking it down the drop, and miles had inherited p4, benjamin taubert right behind him.


    luca snaked into turn 8, his movements far-fetched than he executed. it was as if the water on the asphalt made swerves more deeper with the rear tires always disobedient.


    luca realized he was so hyped after max''s encounter and couldn''t wait for max to crash or get a suspension.


    his car was still sliding!


    [4th position closing in]


    [analyzing 4th position''s distance from host and dallara (f2 04)...]


    [4th position is 2.5 sec away, host.]


    "not today, miles," luca said, attempting a final risky drift out of turn 8 to hit the next straight.


    suddenly, a sharp tension crawled over luca''s body, his gut twisted, and an uneasy feeling churned in his stomach just as his tires sent another wave of water into the air in a drift.


    but it wasn''t the drift that triggered this feeling. his spatial awareness had kicked in¡ªhard.


    at the peak of my drift? what''s wrong?


    "woooohh!"


    the crowd''s uproar grew, but luca wasn''t sure why. he quickly scanned his surroundings.


    [calculating host drift exit...]


    [.... calculation failed]


    "shit!" luca cussed as he finally saw the cause of his discomfort and the crowd''s roar.


    max''s car had completely slid off the track, cutting across the grass¡ªa shortcut through two brutal turns¡ªand now, somehow, his car was drifting back onto the circuit, straight into turn 8''s exit¡ªthe exact place where luca was drifting out!


    **jesus, luca! swerve away!**


    [spatial awareness +1]


    [sync bar: [][][][] 25%]


    "...oh my word! max addams has just taken an unbelievable shortcut across the grass! he''s completely skipped turns 7 and 8¡ªand look at that! he''s rejoining the track in a full-blown drift!"


    luca did his best to swerve away, but it was as if his unstable traction and max''s wet grass worked together to collide them, dragging them to each other like magnets!

 Chapter 170 French Grand Prix 5

    the moment had this touch of humour and panic at the same time.yes, everyone was seeing max''s car drifting like a skateboard over soaked grass, his trajectory a straight-line that cut from the exit of the drop toward the exit of turn 8. but no one really expected max to veer back on track.


    whether max was able to maneuver or it was sheer luck, the immediate problem was that a contact with luca''s dallara was inevitable.


    ms. vallotton muttered a curse when she saw luca''s rear tires drift farther than necessary, bringing him closer to the edge than luca wanted.


    "woooohh!"


    [traction lost]


    "i''m fucked," luca whispered as he caught max''s glare behind his visor.


    a second later, max''s car jolted against the curb, momentarily stuck, but luca wasn''t as lucky. his tires skidded violently, scraping against max''s frame. the impact sent luca''s rear end soaring into the air for a brief moment before slamming back down onto the wet track, splashing into the water.


    "... contact between addams and rennick!"


    "woooohh!"


    [operational status: 70 %]


    "...max got caught on the curb, but luca''s the one who got sent skidding away! this rain is turning the race into absolute chaos!"


    "woooohh!"


    a pounding headache slammed into luca as his car landed with a harsh jolt, but he forced it aside and tuned into mr. ruben''s voice.


    **no suspension damage. a relief¡ªyou''re good! get back on track!**


    zip!


    miles wasted no time, flashing past down the straight luca had intended to take before the incident.


    "...miles bellingham up into p3!"


    "woooohh!"


    the rain continued its relentless downpour, blurring the track and demanding luca regain his composure fast.


    he took a sharp breath and checked his system''s interface, scanning his car''s operational status before assessing his position. half of his single-seater clung to the curbs, the other half resting on the soaked grass.


    that''s when he felt it¡ªa different source of heat, one that wasn''t coming from his own dallara or the sombercore beneath him.


    luca turned his head to the right.


    max was in the exact same position.


    his rival was already making an effort to move, but his rear tires fought against the wet grass, spinning uselessly as water splashed beneath them.


    "...luca rennick and max adddams¡ªboth stranded on the curb!"


    "... while miles bellingham, 2nd place on the standings takes p3 in this french grand prix!"


    "woooohh!"


    luca''s feet and hands sprang into action and he clutched his throttle, pushing forward to get back on track.


    just for him to suffer the same fate. his tires couldn''t grip the grass as well!


    "...this is unbelievable! top two contenders in the championship¡ªstuck in the same spot!"


    luca and max locked eyes, both fully aware that whoever escaped this mess first would seize the advantage.


    zip!


    benjamin taubert flew past, snatching p4, with vlad volyinski closing in fast.


    "... benjamin taubert in p4!"


    "woooohh!"


    "...and luca¡ªoh, he''s looking over! he knows it''s a race even when stationary!"


    **c''mon, luca! figure it out! get in first!** mr. ruben''s voice from the radio crackled into his ears as his tires continued to spin helplessly, kicking up nothing but water and mist.


    luca risked another glance at max¡ªbig mistake.


    max''s car had started to budge, the faintest movement turning into momentum as the rear tires finally clawed onto the curbs. smoke billowed through the rain, rubber grinding against the slick surface, until the grip locked in.


    luca wished he could drag the car back!


    no!!!!


    "...and max addams gets the getaway first!!!!!"


    "woooohh!"


    max''s car jolted forward, snapping out of the grass with a vicious pull.


    as if to trash luca, miles burnt his tires right at the spot, sending a cloud of smoke to luca''s dallara before his machine blazed down the straight.


    "...max addams in p5!"


    "woooohh!"


    zip!


    "...vlad volyinski in p6!"


    how could this be?! luca hissed, pressing down on his throttle, yet his tires couldn''t get that grip.


    "...rennick needs to find traction, needs to get that car moving! but right now, he''s a sitting duck!"


    zip!


    "...albert derstappen zips by in p7!"


    "woooohh!"


    "...oh, this is a disaster for luca rennick! from fighting for the lead to watching his rivals stream past!" sea??h th§× n??elfir§×.net website on google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [system is unable to detect ideal grip spots for host]


    luca''s tires struggled against the wet grass, unable to find the traction needed to move. unlike asphalt, the grass wasn''t part of his system''s standard analysis, meaning luca''s system couldn''t provide any guidance for his rear tires¡ªit simply had no data to process. he was on his own.


    at the start of the race, the trampos garage had been bustling with energy. now, in stark contrast, it was silent. the paddock where mccauley ruled and where shouts of support for luca had echoed earlier was quiet. the team sat back in their black, plush seats, watching luca struggle at turn 8''s exit.


    vrm¡ªvrmmm¡ªvrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmm!


    the screens in the telemetry room told the story plainly through the blue hud display.


    luca''s four-wheeler had its two front tires on the curbs, poised for grip, while the rear tires were beyond the curbs, with the telemetry clearly showing [no] grip.


    zip!


    "...james legrasse in p11!"


    [host hasn''t unlocked skills to adapt to wet weather conditions]


    [host hasn''t upgraded to professional bundle, so host is unable to upgrade car to battle such conditions]


    in this helpless situation, the system deemed it necessary to remind luca¡ªand perhaps give him hope¡ªthat overcoming challenges like this would become easier as he delved deeper into his stats and unlocked another bundle.


    luca''s heart grew heavier by the moment. the rain was beating down hard on him, his tires getting cold, and there were just a few moments left for this to be considered and termed a dnf.


    not this french grand prix. not now, not at this stage in the competition.


    zip!


    "...erik haas in p13!"


    luca was so focused on his tires, trying desperately to find any semblance of traction, that he didn''t even notice haas'' red dallara darting past him. a second later, another car shot by, its engine roaring in defiance of the treacherous conditions.


    vrm¡ªvrmmm¡ªvrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmm!


    mr. ruben nodded his head enthusiastically and leaned in on the mic. **l see you got some grip there, lad! push it!**


    the grip was faint but luca was able to tap into it, clawing at the curbs as if his rear tires were an extension of his legs.


    it even felt like such.


    [traction detected]


    [traction unstable]


    vrm¡ªvrmmm¡ªvrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmm!


    "... after what seemed like eternity, luca rennick is finally making it out of the ditch!"


    "woooohh!"


    the red [no] grip signal flashed to green in the telemetry room and everyone had a spark of hope!


    luca could feel the cold rain running down his helmet and his visor, but he kept his eyes locked on the track ahead as another driver just zipped past him. and another...


    his rear tires kicked up a cloud of water as they made their way off the slippery grass and back onto the curbs, and for a brief moment, it felt like nothing was beneath him but a dangerous slide.


    vrm¡ªvrmmm¡ªvrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmm!


    "...luca''s got the grip now! you can see it¡ªhe''s gradually regaining control after that terrifying slide. the car''s still twitching a bit, but he''s holding strong!"


    "woooohh!"


    find your next read on empire


    luca began to feel his car steady as the front tires gripped the wet track the best it could, his rear tires now owning the curbs. he had moved forward!


    "thank goodness," luca muttered, easing his wheel and guiding his car back on track inch by inch.


    another driver didn''t even hesitate to take a perfect turn around him, running down the straight.


    "...what a recovery from luca rennick! luca rennick rejoins this formula 2 french grand prix!"


    "woooohh!"


    **you did well. good job** mr. ruben silently congratulated luca as he pushed his dallara forward once more, moving down the straight at a steady, growing speed.


    [you are picking up speed]


    [17th position]


    "...luca rennick in p17!"


    "oooouuhh!"


    mr. grant and ms. vallotton gave sighs of relief and disappointment.


    [data displayed in real time:


    -car speed: 180 km/h


    -heart rate: 110 bpm


    -operational status: 60% (fair)


    -breathing: elevated


    -distance covered: 42000m


    -time: 10 min 5 sec.]


    luca wanted to wipe away the sweat from his forehead, but he was unable to do that. gloves, a helmet. it was impossible, so he maintained his grip on his wheel to regain what had been lost.

 Chapter 171 French Grand Prix 6

    In Formula racing, the chances of rising from the bottom of the pack to the top were low but definitely not impossible.Factors like track structure, track length, and the number of laps contributed to making it possible for any driver who happened to drop down the leaderboard, or any driver who started at the bottom, to rise to the top positions.


    Whereas factors like the same track structure, but now coupled with weather conditions and competitive aura, played a major role in making that drop permanent, slimming the chances of any driver in P12 and below from making it to a point-worthy position.


    It wasn''t uncommon for a driver to face a predicament that relegated him to the bottom. It happened all the time, as any little thing on track could take away seconds¡ªseconds from crossing the checkered flag first or being among the top five to do so.


    Aaronson once started at the back of the grid this season, Derstappen had dropped to the mid-pack before, as had Miles. And now, it was Luca''s turn.


    Luca wasn''t sure if his own condition could be compared to theirs as he drove under the rain on low momentum, another driver overtaking him after a lap-long duel they had.


    [20th Position]


    [12th Lap]


    P20 was horrible.


    This was, by far, the deepest he had fallen back in the pack, and he was just three positions ahead of being a lapped driver. This meant drivers in P23 to P30 were still in the 11th lap, about to enter the 12th.


    It also meant that the pack leaders¡ªhis rivals¡ªwere now technically chasing him in some way.


    Luca cussed. Never before had he seen so many holographic numbers hovering before him, so many opponents to overtake on the path to victory.


    [Tires showing wear, host. Grip levels highly reduced. Fuel level at 25%. DRS unavailable. Engine temperature unstable. Brake wear at 29%.]


    [Telemetry reports understeer developing. Aerodynamic efficiency still optimal. Consider full adjustments to compensate for tire degradation.]


    Luca had already discussed a pit stop with his team. A pit stop on the 13th lap was early¡ªten laps earlier than originally planned.


    [21st Position closing in]


    Luca had had enough of this. His eyes darted to his side mirrors, catching sight of a uniquely painted Dallara closing in behind him. The colors¡ªblack, gray, and white¡ªbelonged to Nimelsa Motorsport.


    That meant the driver could only be one of two people: Niko Rassfeld, their seasoned main driver, or Leon Vessario, the 18-year-old youngster.


    Either way, Luca refused to slip to P21. Was his fate in this French Grand Prix to tumble all the way down to P30?!


    Marco Rossi had once started a race from P30 in this generation of Formula racing. From dead last, he had carved his way through the field to claim an unforgettable victory at the Canadian Grand Prix¡ªan achievement that solidified his status as the Greatest of All Time in this era.


    But that was different. Rossi had begun at P30 due to a DNF in the previous race¡ªhe hadn''t fallen there mid-race!


    Two entirely different situations. Two entirely different challenges.


    Luca could only pray his pit stop wouldn''t send him plunging even further down the leaderboard.


    **Crew is very ready** Mr. Moritz informed this time around as Luca sliced down the Drop once more, getting used to the track structure and trailed along P20 into Turn 7 to complete the 12th Lap as quickly as he could.


    [Operational Status: 45%]


    Luca replied with a positive answer and gripped his wheel tighter. Perhaps, he could make some impact before heading into the pitlane, outpace as many drivers as he could to save himself from the hell of being in P30 or anything close.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 19th Position]


    [You are 1.8 seconds away, host.]


    [19] Hovered so large before him as he dove out of Turn 8''s exit, making sure he didn''t glance at the spot that had caused him all this dismay.


    Once the straight emerged, Luca''s finger left the brake bias, and he expertly switched to DRS, flicking it with confidence.


    Whirrr... His rear wings opened for the first time in this race, resulting in an immediate, involuntary push of his car due to the wet track.


    However, Luca managed to handle the car''s sudden burst of free, unrestricted drag and maintained control of his DRS-moving chassis now.


    [DRS Engaged!]


    He heard the crowd roar, but he was certain it wasn''t because of his move. Something must have been happening up front, where all the holographic numbers jumbled together.


    19th Position tried to use his spray to block Luca, but Luca had anticipated it. Knowing how long the straight was, he simply shifted to the right and let his DRS propel him through, taking P19 expertly before Turn 9.


    **Nice. You still have it in you!**


    [19th Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [Distributing Attained Point to Attributes involved...]


    [Agility +1]


    Your next chapter is on empire


    [Strength and Intelligence are yet to reach level-up threshold]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    [Ding!]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne Skill Accumulating 1/6] S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Oh," Luca whispered, his brows shooting up. "I almost forgot about the skill that would help me battle this!" he exclaimed, briefly looking up at the sky as rain battered his helmet and visor.


    "WOOOOHH!" The crowd roared again, making Luca wonder what exactly was happening and how far ahead his real rivals had gotten.


    [20th Position closing in]


    "Not a problem. Calculate the one before me. I''m getting him next."


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 18th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Exiting Turn 10, Luca felt his worn-out tires threaten him, as if warning they could end his race at any moment they chose.


    Just a few more turns and straights until the 13th lap and the pitlane.


    Now, one of the longest straightaways in motorsport history lay before him, and he planned on closing the gap between himself and the APX car in P18. Maybe on the home straight, he''d use DRS again to take P18.


    Even though he''d box and lose the position, Luca was certain it was better than staying in P20. Moreover, Pitstop Prodigy would do its work, considering his Dallara wasn''t too badly damaged.


    [You are picking up speed]


    Luca''s foot pressed harder on the throttle, and the engine roared in response. The Dallara surged forward, wind resistance fighting against its sleek frame as he chased the APX car ahead with water-kicking tires. The slipstream effect kicked in, pulling him closer, millisecond by millisecond.


    Then, Slipstream Mastery''s effect added to the normal slipstream advantage, making his approach visibly faster.


    1.8 seconds....


    [Speed Boosted!]


    1 second....


    0.8 second...


    0.6 second...


    While Luca barreled down the wet, long straight, the Trampos garage and paddock were alive once more with activity.


    All pit crew members secured their helmets, adjusted their straps, and swiftly rolled out the necessary equipment to the pit box. Mechanics readied the tire guns, while the front jackman took position, anticipating the call.


    Mr. Grant decided it was time to leave the viewing post for a while and head to the pitlane, just like some other Team Principals.


    He informed Vallotton before stepping out, making his way out of the garage, where he could see everyone in Trampos'' red braving the rain and taking their positions at the pit box¡ªsome kneeling, some bent, all poised for Luca''s arrival.


    Mr. Grant then walked to the paddock and took a seat, awaiting Luca''s car.


    "...there is some movement going on in Trampos'' garage, Jon! Luca Rennick, now in P18, might be our first pitter today in this French Grand Prix!"


    "...after what happened on the 7th Lap, it''s not much of a surprise, Steve. His car must be the most prone to understeer, a tire lock-up, or even suspension failure. Luca Rennick could be heading into the pits to prevent any of that."


    "...and at the front of the pack, Sean Aaronson still leads this French Grand Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Miles Bellingham in P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Oliver Kristensen holds P3!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [18th Position]


    [550m Straightaway ahead]


    The Home straight.


    Luca heaved a sigh of relief after navigating Turn 11 that almost swept his car away. He swerved into Turn 12 with uncontrolled violence that everyone noticed.


    **Hmm! Be careful, Luca** Mr. Ruben said through the radio with concern after seeing Luca''s rear tires tear up grass again before barely making it back on track.


    [You are picking up speed!]


    Luca pushed his Dallara to its limit, tearing across the grid once more to officially begin Lap 13¡ªone that the front-runners had already started.


    Without hesitation, he veered into the pit lane after confirming the call with his engineers.


    The thick haze made it difficult to spot his team''s pit box, but the entire Trampos crew had their eyes locked on him¡ªnone more so than Mr. Grant.


    "...Luca Rennick heads into the pitlane first!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    As the mist cleared, Luca expertly guided his car down the lane and came to a precise stop within the designated rectangle.


    The crew sprang into action, moving with precision and urgency. Every second mattered. Lap 13, P18¡ªif he wanted to salvage this race, miracles had to start happening now.


    He felt the car lift as the team worked seamlessly around him. Glancing toward the paddock, he caught sight of Mr. Grant, seated yet focused.


    Luca raised a hand in acknowledgment.


    Mr. Grant returned the gesture, a firm wave toward his helmeted driver. A silent message passed between them.


    Whirrr...thud! Drop!


    **3.7 seconds. Let''s go!**


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    New tires with optimal grip, extra fuel, and a newly reinforced side frame¡ªLuca felt like he was the machine itself, revitalized and ready.


    Zip!


    The APX car¡ªConor Philips¡ªroared past into Turn 1, reclaiming P18.


    "..."


    Luca scoffed, the realization settling in.


    If he wanted to excel in this French Grand Prix, he needed to unlock Slipsense & Rainborne. And to do that, he had to accumulate six Overtaking Skill points.


    Had he been leading the race, securing this Daily Quest reward would have been nearly impossible. Overtaking opportunities were rare at the front, meaning he could finish high¡ªbut not necessarily in P1.


    But here, at the back of the grid... overtakes were everywhere.


    A grin spread across his face as he powered out of the pit lane, rejoining the race.


    He could actually unlock this skill¡ªand win the French Grand Prix with it...

 Chapter 172 French Grand Prix 7

    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨TTARGET: LUCA RENNICK // #21 //


    AGENT: Mrs. Coastfield | TEAM: ¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€ | CIRCUIT: Circuit du Soleil


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    DRIVER ASSESSMENT ¨C PAST AND CURRENT OBSERVATION


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ¡ªRaw Prowess: 80¡ª85


    ¡ªRacecraft: 80¡ª90


    ¡ªFortitude: 80¡ª85


    ¡ªSpeed Science: 80¡ª95


    ¡ªTacticality: 85¡ª95


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ? OVERALL DRIVER SCORE: 83¡ª86


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    [20th Lap]


    Even with fresh tires and newfound energy, it was still significantly difficult to battle the wet, treacherous track, yet Luca navigated it far better than his counterparts at the bottom of the leaderboard.


    Though some did try their best to defend, the overtakes felt barely like a challenge to Luca, and he found himself pushing forward.


    When he had emerged from the pitlane back in the 13th Lap, he was able to rejoin the race, but P18 and P19 had already been reoccupied, sending him back to the same P20 he dreaded.


    However, Luca didn''t intend to stay there long. He used the rest of the 13th Lap to warm up his tires to the required heat needed for swift turns, late brakes, and sudden accelerations¡ªmoves necessary for overtaking.


    At the peak of the 14th Lap, he struck like a viper, a truly skilled driver in the midst of the average, and reclaimed P18 for a start, re-outpacing the same drivers before the Drop had approached them.


    This earned him another Overtaking Skill point.


    [Overtaking +1]


    [Distributing Attained Point to Attributes involved...]


    [Strength +1]


    [Intelligent and Agility are yet to reach level-up threshold]


    He also got a random +1 to Endurance, which must have been a result of fighting against nature itself on Circuit du Soleil.


    [Endurance +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne Skill Accumulating 2/6]


    The Overtaking Skill added half an extra bar to his Sync Bar, but after gaining from an opponent''s slipstream, Slipstream Mastery gained a point, further increasing his chances of executing it and gaining much speed while meriting from someone''s slipstream.


    [Slipstream Mastery +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]


    The Sync Buff needed just one bar left on the Sync Bar for activation. If Luca could get it full and brimming with green life, he could make a burst to the head of the pack¡ªpossibly even P1 if lucky!


    [16th Position]


    Now in P16, Luca didn''t feel as much despair as he had when he was stuck at Turn 8''s exit, his tires spinning uselessly over the air. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Back then, it had seemed like his hopes of accomplishing his System Mission, winning the championship, and making it to F1 were fading away with every ounce of ERS he pumped trying to get out of that mess.


    But here he was now, lurking at the exact middle of the leaderboard¡ªP16¡ªwith his rivals ahead, having zero clue of what he was plotting and crafting with his System.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 15th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    15th Position, a brown Dallara was now in front of Luca, bearing the number 15 above its chassis. The driver was struggling at every bend, his rear tires constantly betraying him. This allowed Luca to close the gap even faster.


    Additionally, the rain had lessened in intensity.


    The sky remained gloomy¡ªgray and dull, with swirling clouds hinting at more rain to come. The wind was still moving at high speeds, maybe even higher now. Only the raindrops had reduced in size and number, yet the patter against Luca''s car hadn''t stopped.


    At least it was something. Battling both the rain''s curtain and the sheets of water kicked up by opponents'' tires had been a brutal combination. Now, with the rain easing, visibility was slightly better than before, allowing Luca and the others to focus more on the water pooling on the track instead.


    This improved Luca''s driving on the track, as he could now see more clearly and navigate under the heavy drizzle (Rainborne). However, traction remained an issue due to the wet surface¡ªa challenge for every driver. He needed better tire grip, enhanced performance, and the ability to turn smoothly even through pools of water (Slipsense).


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 15th Position]


    [You are 0.7 seconds away, host.]


    "Poor mate," Luca whispered as he pulled alongside the other car, navigating Turn 9 together. He had used the previous straight to close the gap between them.


    The driver glanced over, catching sight of Luca''s #21 helmet, confidently staring back at him.


    Luca Rennick of Trampos Racing, 3x Race Wins, 5x Podium Finishes, and Rafael Ivanov of Avidavis Motorsport, 0x Race Wins, 0x Podium Finishes.


    Luca returned his focus to the wheel and the track, which shifted to the right-hander. He took the inside lane, the cameras focusing on the front wings of the cars as Luca edged in first, claiming P15.


    [15th Position]


    [Overtaking +1]


    [Distributing Attained Point to Attributes involved...]


    [Intelligence +1]


    [Agility and Strength are yet to reach level-up threshold]


    [Ding!]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne Skill Accumulating 3/6]


    "Three over six, sweet! I can make it!"


    **Erik will be pitting soon. Just wanted to keep you informed**


    "Alright."


    **Good driving, by the way**


    "Thanks," Luca replied, his mind racing as he heard the crowd roar in the distance. "Who''s... who''s leading?"


    Mr. Ruben hesitated, almost ready to tell Luca, but then decided against it.


    Luca was still in P15, halfway up the leaderboard, while the leaders were ten positions ahead. Telling him who was leading wouldn''t be helpful right now; Luca''s focus needed to be on climbing up the ranks.


    Perhaps once he reached P7, he could figure it out for himself. And if he asked, Mr. Ruben believed he''d answer.


    At this point, who was leading didn''t matter. Being near the top would make that information important, but dwelling on it while fighting from the back wouldn''t help.


    **Focus on your race** Mr. Ruben said instead. **Eyes on the track. Your job right now is the gaps in front of you**


    Luca nodded. "Understood."


    **A lot of drivers are and would be pitting come the next lap or the one after. More space for you**


    With drivers visiting the pits, Luca could shave off some of the time they had over him. Even though his own car would soon be far from optimal performance, it would still be a victory to leave the double-digit positions and climb back into the Top 10.


    Blazing down the home straight at a wild speed, Luca spotted two cars leaving the pitlane in the distance.


    [21st Lap]


    As he crossed the grid, their forms became clearer¡ªone of them was unmistakably a Trampos Dallara.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 14th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Luca sighed. He had expected Haas to be somewhere around P8 at least. That would have been a great safety net for the team if things went south for him, as they nearly had earlier in this French Grand Prix.


    Once Haas exited the pitlane, the holographic number 14 appeared on his red chassis. The number glowed green, not blue, as the system smartly marked him as Luca''s teammate.


    Wasting no time, Mr. Ruben leaned into the radio.


    Once again, the hallmark of the Tiered Pursuit strategy was being deployed, and Luca, Player A, now found himself right behind Haas, Player B in the strategy.


    Haas wasn''t aware that Luca had closed in on him yet, so Mr. Ruben took the initiative to alert and remind him of what to do next.


    Luca listened closely to the two-way transmitter.

 Chapter 173 French Grand Prix 8

    Driver and engineer communication between Haas and Mr. Ruben flowed coherently and smoothly through the radio.Mr. Ruben relayed the order as directed by the Team Principals, and Haas responded positively, his cheerful tone catching Luca off guard.


    Not that Luca had expected Haas to oppose the Tiered Pursuit strategy¡ªit was just surprising how naturally and willingly Haas embraced it. He even radioed Luca directly to coordinate better and decide the perfect moment for the switch.


    **Oi, Luca? Okay, okay. No problem** Haas said over the radio.


    A second later, the one-way transmitter clicked on. **Your call, mate**


    "Turn 3," Luca replied, without hesitation, and Haas agreed. Luca wanted to make the switch as swiftly as possible.


    Recalling their drills, Luca and Haas smoothly aligned their cars. Luca''s machine carried more momentum, closing in quickly as Haas'' car was still settling back into rhythm after exiting the pits.


    Mr. Grant observed intently from the paddock as Luca closed the gap, now practically in touching distance of Haas'' gearbox.


    This switch was more akin to a deliberate handover than a relinquishment of position¡ªthough, truthfully, Luca would have overtaken Haas and his cold-tired car on this lap anyway.


    As they approached Turn 3, Haas maintained steady control, neither slowing down nor breaking momentum, but deliberately leaving enough inside space. Luca pounced on the opportunity like a predator, diving into the gap Haas provided.


    Passing him cleanly, Luca glanced over, and both teammates exchanged purposeful nods, a silent acknowledgment of their flawless teamwork.


    Haas then tucked back in behind Luca, blocking any attempt from the driver in 16th to try anything funny.


    **Good one, boys**


    [14th Position]


    That was one seamless execution of the Tiered Pursuit strategy, one Luca couldn''t even remember executing flawlessly with Ansel during training. Yet, he and Haas had danced with their Dallaras on Circuit du Soleil as if this wasn''t the first time.


    Maybe he and Ansel didn''t really adapt to the Tiered Pursuit strategy. Luca began to think about it.


    During their drills, unlike Ansel, Haas had never displayed signs of stoicism, detachment, or silence. Perhaps, to make such a strategy work, it wasn''t just about physicality¡ªmentality played a crucial role too.


    "...and now we''re focusing on the middle of the pack! Look at this¡ªLuca Rennick has climbed up to P14! What an incredible moment at Turn 3! Trampos Racing clearly has a strategy in play, and it''s working to perfection. Erik Haas just made a brilliant tactical decision, giving way to let the better driver push ahead. What a show of teamwork!"


    "WOOOOHH!" The Trampos crowd erupted in cheers, their voices brimming with energy. They hadn''t traveled all the way to France for nothing!


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 13th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Luca spotted the Dallara ahead, its number 13 hovering clearly above it.


    The single-seater was easy to identify due to the driver''s hesitant and uncertain driving style.


    This was the same driver who had exited the pits alongside Haas earlier. Now, typical of soft tires, the vehicle still required at least two more kilometers to generate the heat necessary for effective driving¡ªespecially under these wet conditions.


    This would be an easy push up the leaderboard for Luca. He shifted his focus momentarily to the complete real-time information displayed on his system screen, analyzing the functionality of his chassis and tires.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 290 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 65% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 115500m


    -Time: 32 min.]


    Sixty-five percent was a figure to be concerned about, and the entire Trampos crew, including Luca, knew it. Similar stats were displayed in the telemetry room, leaving no doubt about the situation.


    From past experience, Luca understood that this 65% would last longer than higher values above it. This gave him roughly five to seven laps before he would need to consider another pit stop.


    With that in mind, he resolved to push as hard as possible, starting with the driver ahead, who had barely managed to navigate Turn 5''s treacherous steep.


    Creston RTC¡ªone of the newest F2 teams on the grid. It was surprising to see their driver holding P13, especially when teams of a similar level, like OLAC, had their drivers lagging far behind.


    A rush of overconfidence surged through Luca as he locked onto his target, his rear wings cutting cleanly through the wet asphalt.


    Approaching Turn 5, Luca executed it with far more precision and skill than the driver ahead, closing the gap to less than a second as they approached Turn 6''s apex.


    [400m Cliff Straightaway ahead]


    **Be careful down the Drop. You''re less than a second behind, the spray would blind you**


    Luca''s system chimed just in time to alert him, but he hadn''t realized they were already nearing the treacherous slope straight. The decision came late, and now he was caught between two choices: drop back and let the rival ahead make it midway down before starting his own descent, or stick close and risk disaster.


    If he followed too closely¡ªgearbox to front wing¡ªthe spray would obscure his vision completely, increasing the chance of sliding off the track like Max had earlier.


    Max had been lucky to rejoin on another section of the circuit; Luca doubted he''d be as fortunate if the same happened to him.


    But losing momentum here was not an option.


    Luca tightened his grip on the wheel, his instincts and training kicking in. He trusted his Attributes and his finely honed skills to navigate the steep slope and emerge safely at the exit. It was a gamble, but one he was willing to take.


    If he could handle the descent cleanly and maintain control, the exit speed would give him the edge to overtake his rival before they even realized what had happened.


    With determination, Luca applied brakes as necessary, gauging his brake bias to the system''s recommendation to prevent any unnecessary loss of speed.


    The Creston driver reached atop and began his descent in the same jackleg manner his driving had been ever since.


    Luca followed and let go of his controls, embracing the gforce that accompanied the perilous descent.


    [System detects loss of speed control.]


    [Host is involuntarily moving at 310 km/h.]


    Zzzzzzzzz


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to adapt to wet weather conditions]


    "Not bad," Luca muttered under his breath, barely able to exhale as he tackled the 0.8-second descent.


    The spray wasn''t as blinding as he''d expected. In fact, he noticed it had been gradually reducing with each lap ever since the rain had started to ease, and the conditions were improving.


    It made sense.


    The sheer speed and heat generated by the single-seaters and their tires were working like makeshift dryers, evaporating the rainwater accumulating on the asphalt. With the rain''s intensity waning, the track was drying quicker than it might have under the heavier downpour.


    A very good decision he made earlier not to drop back. Now, he finished his descent with ease and gripped control of his wheel, adjusting the necessities.


    [Speed Control Unstable]


    [Traction slightly Detected]


    [You are moving at high speeds]


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Something happened at the front, the commentary yelling, but Luca needed to focus on his car, now that his speed was still slightly not under control.


    He exited the foot of the drop safely, swerving into Turn 7 right behind the Creston driver.


    Luca quickly analyzed the driver''s car and his speed, discovering his own was far higher than the drivers!


    Damnit! Luca cursed, barely in control as he drifted to the opposite side to kill the momentum, thereby regulating the speed.


    [Calculating host drift exit...]


    [... successfully calculated]


    Luca almost made a donut!


    During wet conditions, two distinct challenges arose when dealing with a damp track.


    The first scenario occurred when water pooled on the track surface, creating sprays that reduced visibility. In such conditions, cars were naturally slowed down, their aerodynamics slightly impacted, and the tires cooled directly by the water.


    The second scenario, however, was far more treacherous¡ªthe track remained wet but lacked pooling water, with the asphalt glistening in a slick, reflective sheen. This was the situation Luca now faced.


    This type of wet surface was notorious for causing traction loss, and its deceptive slickness often led to overspeeding, as the reduced resistance could make it feel like the car''s speed was amplified. Moreover, it compromised downforce efficiency, making control even more precarious.


    Luca would have much preferred being taken out of the race by another driver rather than the humiliation of sliding off the track entirely on his own.


    His thoughts raced as his team engineers frantically shouted instructions over the radio¡ªinstructions that he needed DOWNFORCE to execute! Perhaps, the crowd was roaring about him after all.


    Luca''s eyes moved.


    He saw the Creston driver''s car at the bottleneck of Turn 8.


    Luca had his own tires still donuting through the wet track. A plume of smoke billowed around it, merging with the drizzle, creating a hazy threat that was sliding dangerously to the Creston driver''s direction.


    Luca then edged the side of his car to fully veer to his rival''s direction. He could see the panic in the driver''s helmeted face as he approached him from side to side.


    With a soft frame touch, Luca used his rival as a pillow to regain control of his car.


    It was as if all his problems were a virus and he just handed it over to the Creston driver.


    "WOOOOHH!" the crowd was really roaring for what was going on in Luca''s sector.


    Luca''s single-seater just nudged another driver''s car and the Creston driver spun off the track! S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Speed Control Detected]


    [Traction Detected]


    [Downforce In Play]


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...at the middle of the pack, LUCA RENNICK HAS JUST PULLED OFF AN ABSOLUTE STUNNER! THERE GOES JOHN ROBERTS!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The poor Creston driver stopped right in the middle of the soaked grass, tires spinning over wet curbs as well as he tried to run back into the asphalt.


    Sadly, the grass was too soaked for that, the earth wet, moisty and tillable.


    "...was that a deliberate contact?! Somehow, Luca Rennick comes out unharmed!"


    [13th Position]


    [Overtaking +1]


    [Distributing Attained Point to Attributes involved...]


    [Strength +1]


    [Agility and Intelligence are yet to reach level-up threshold]


    [Ding!]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne Skill Accumulating 4/6]


    Luca was now in 13th position, having secured 4 out of the 6 points needed to unlock the Slipsense and Rainborne skills. But at what cost? The cost of another driver''s DNF.


    As he sped down the straight past Turn 8''s exit, Luca stole a glance in his mirrors, catching a fleeting sight of John Roberts'' stranded car.


    He felt a pang of guilt but consoled himself with the thought that he had made the best decision to save his race.


    Luca believed that was a harmless nudge, and if John was a good enough driver, he could have endured it.


    However, that verdict was not in Luca''s place to say.


    His chest tightened as Mr. Ruben''s voice crackled through the radio, delivering words that made his stomach drop.


    **Luca, race control is reviewing the incident**


    A penalty at this stage¡ªwhen he was laser-focused on climbing to the top of the leaderboard¡ªwould be catastrophic for him in this French Grand Prix.

 Chapter 174 French Grand Prix 9

    **Review is over. You''re clean. Good job, lad!** Mr. Ruben informed Luca with exuberance.The stewards had completed their scrutiny, and despite Luca''s Dallara making slight contact with Robert''s car, it wasn''t enough to hold him responsible for the incident. Fault was determined to rest with John and his unsteady grip.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca let out a deep breath, followed by a sigh of relief.


    No penalty for him. His actions had actually been... legal.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    As he skillfully battled the aquaplaning in Turn 11, Luca shifted his focus momentarily to the crowd''s roar, which had intensified a lap after the incident, coinciding with the stewards'' verdict.


    "...and the decision is in! Luca Rennick is cleared of any wrongdoing in the Turn 8 incident with John Roberts! No penalty for the Trampos driver¡ªhe''s in the clear to continue his climb now in P12!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "... but can you hear that, Steve?! The Velocit¨¤ fans are absolutely livid! They''re on their feet, booing and roaring for what they believe is an injustice! This French Grand Prix is pivotal for the championship standings, and every point counts. The Velocit¨¤ faithful were banking on a penalty for Rennick to give their team a much-needed edge in this nail-biting season finale. But the stewards'' ruling has dashed those hopes!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca frowned deeply, his grip tightening on the wheel. How dare they boo him?


    He understood they were rival fans, loyal to their own, but still¡ªweren''t they watching when their star driver, Max Addams, slid across the grass and collided with him earlier in the race?


    The stewards had cleared Max of any wrongdoing, ruling both the contact and his off-track excursion as unintentional. They had even declared Max''s rejoin, which allowed him to gain a positional advantage, as a stroke of luck rather than calculated intent.


    The review cited a lack of "mens rea"¡ªthe mental intent to commit an infraction. Meanwhile, Luca''s own role in that incident had been chalked up to sheer misfortune.


    If they could excuse Max''s actions, why couldn''t they extend the same fairness to him?


    But the boos didn''t faze him for long. Luca resolved it was time to fully embrace and enjoy this French Grand Prix and make it his race.


    The stewards'' review of his latest maneuver had described his actions as a perfectly timed instinctive move. With a burst of momentum still lingering all around his chassis after the Drop, he used the rival driver beside him to regain control.


    While such maneuvers had their limits and carried significant risk, Luca was relieved to know his actions had stayed within the acceptable boundaries.


    Now, with a clear conscience, Luca was determined to enjoy the race as well as win it. Even at P12, he could make it.


    "WOOOOHH!" in the roars, Trampos chanted louder, unable to suppress their excitement of watching Luca climb up the leaderboard in style.


    [32nd Lap]


    The start of the 32nd Lap signaled an imminent pit stop for Luca. After his early stop in the 12th Lap, Luca thought twenty laps later was an impressive stretch for a Dallara chassis and its soft tires.


    [Tires degrading rapidly, host. Inner treads nearing limit. Fuel level at 30%. DRS is unavailable. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear increasing¡ª22%.]


    [Telemetry warning: Reduced grip detected. Handling stability compromised. Aerodynamic efficiency dropping slightly. Immediate pitstop recommended to avoid further performance decline.]


    As Luca prepared to use the last of his ERS to minimize tire wear and push for P11, the driver ahead¡ªan APX driver¡ªveered into the pitlane.


    Luca raised a brow, puzzled. Why was Sven Larsen pitting now? He''d assumed his own pit window was uniquely timed. Then again, Luca reminded himself that he had no insight into APX''s team strategy or any potential issues Larsen might be experiencing with his car.


    His thoughts were interrupted when, in the distance, another car exited the pitlane, adding to his surprise. Luca seized the opportunity, zipping into the space left by Larsen and inheriting P11.


    [11th Position]


    Understandably, that didn''t count as an Overtake. The system required overtakes to occur on track, with no advantage gained from a pit stop exchange.


    Luca decided to gather as much speed as possible and build a good gap. He would be pitting in the next lap and needed to stay in P11, avoiding the usual reversal that often came with pit stops.


    By the 33rd Lap, Luca and Mr. Moritz were communicating effectively, with Mr. Moritz informing Luca that the pit crew was fully prepared for his stop.


    [33rd Lap]


    Before reaching Turn 1, Luca smoothly diverted into the pitlane, carefully regulating his speed to stay within the limit as he barreled toward Trampos'' garage. The rain had eased to a light drizzle, improving his visibility significantly.


    From his peripheral vision, Luca caught glimpses of other team garages. Beneath their caps, engineers and crew members watched intently as his car rolled past, finally reaching the Trampos pitbox with precision timing.


    [0.5...1.0...]


    Once again, Luca waved at Mr. Grant, who returned the gesture. He gave McCauley a quick thumbs-up as he shouted their pit time. His car dropped perfectly into the marked rectangle with a gentle thud.


    "3.0 seconds!"


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    Valued at 12, Luca''s Pitstop Prodigy skill was proving its worth again. He marveled at how efficient the team had become, even under less-than-ideal conditions. Considering his car''s 40% Operational Status, he had expected a longer stop. But somehow, the crew managed to outperform expectations.


    Luca wondered if the Pitstop Prodigy spiked in its performance sporadically depending on the situation and how he glided in.


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    "... lightning-fast stop for Luca Rennick as he exits the pitlane! 3.0 seconds! Absolutely marvellous work from the Trampos crew! That''s Formula 1-worthy efficiency!"


    **Larsen''s moving down, heading toward Turn 1**


    Luca watched his Operational Status trickle back up until: [Operational Status: 85%]


    He sailed out of the pitlane, hopeful of rejoining the race ahead of Larsen. Although Pitstop Prodigy worked its magic, cold tires and the pitlane speed regulations held him back.


    Sven Larsen zipped by confidently, the aura from his car radiating an air of mockery, as though scoffing at Luca''s attempt.


    Merging back on track, Luca couldn''t help but smirk. He was even happier to have a driver with 0x Race Wins and 1x Podium Finish ahead of him.


    "Big mistake, bud. You''re gonna help me get Slipsense and Rainborne today."


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 11th Position]


    [You are 1 second away, host.]


    Cold tires wouldn''t hold Luca back. After trailing Larsen for three sectors, he felt confident he had enough grip to make a bold move.


    Sven Larsen''s crew quickly warned him over the radio that Luca''s chassis was looking far more threatening than it had at the start of the lap. Now, he had to defend against one of the most deceptively aggressive drivers in F2¡ªand possibly all divisions.


    "Tsk!" Larsen muttered, gritting his teeth as Luca''s front wing inched closer. The two cars were nearly side by side, roaring down the straight after Turn 8.


    Luca didn''t even need DRS. The raw speed of his SomberCore engine, combined with his precise execution, had closed the 1.5-second gap they''d started the lap with.


    Larsen eventually conceded, subtly shifting aside to acknowledge the inevitable. The moment Luca slid ahead to claim P11, his focus locked on James Legrasse in P10, just a second further down the track.


    "Bunched up, you guys are. Yay!" S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...And there he goes! Luca Rennick takes P11 from Sven Larsen!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    McCauley and the rest of the Trampos crew burst into cheers as Luca overtook Larsen, leaving behind a trail of spray and "dust" just before Turn 9.


    Their cheers were abruptly silenced by a collective gasp.


    Luca had nearly lost control as he dived into the turn too aggressively!


    The world spun in a dizzying blur from Luca''s perspective. His heart raced, a cold jolt of fear rippling through him. The car skidded wildly, but with extraordinary composure, he corrected the misstep, executing a perfect 360-degree spin before regaining traction and continuing the race.


    "WOOOOHH!" The crowd erupted in disbelief and admiration.


    [Agility +1]


    [Reflexes +1]


    [Track Awareness +1]


    McCauley and the rest clapped even harder.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 10th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    He lost a second in that swerve and his 360 save, but Luca was determined to close the gap far quickly than Legrasse could even register.


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Reanalyzing...]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host]


    **Wonderful, Luca! WONDERFUL!**


    For James Legrasse¡ª0x Race Wins, 2x Podium Finishes¡ªLuca''s rapid approach was a nightmare, and was anything but appealing.


    From his side mirrors, he just witnessed the driver behind him spin 360 and continue racing like he hadn''t just been on the brink of a crash. How did he even catch up so quickly?! How could a driver like Legrasse survive and thrive in Formula 2 when prospects like this competed with him?!


    With trembling hands, Legrasse entered Turn 11 that was now safer than it was at the start of the race.


    Less rain, less water on track, less hydroplaning.


    With ice in his veins, Luca dove to the outside lane as if flaunting his Dallara to the grandstands and to the valleys where the outside lane banked to nature.


    He was unfazed by Legrasse''s own inner lane. He knew he took it because he wanted to cling to P10 so badly, and the inner line seemed more ideal.


    However, in racing, track structure was almost everything.


    A driver might choose the inner lane for its smoother exits and improved control. Still, the other driver who took the outside could prevail once the chicane was cleared. The result often depended on the angles of every bend.


    While inner lane drivers benefited from stability, an outside lane driver could take advantage of the tangents¡ªmini shortcuts formed by the curve''s geometry¡ªand execute bold, risky drifts that allowed them to cut in sharply and potentially gain the upper hand.


    With a system that granted him accurate calculations of the track structure as long as he had a good view of them, Luca would know firsthand which lane to take and how to take it.


    Literally, the data streamed before him in real time, numbers flashing and updating in mere milliseconds, slim black arrows and wide graphs guiding his every move.


    [Calculating host drift exit...]


    [... successfully calculated]


    Maybe after this season, Luca could go to Formula 1 and give drivers like Legrasse a chance.


    "....LUCA RENNICK IN P10!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Yes! Attaboy, Luca! Simply lovely!**


    [10th Position]


    "...from P20 to P10, Luca Rennick is putting on a display in this French Grand Prix! How is this possible! Don''t write him out yet Squadra, don''t write him out Velocit¨¤, Luca Rennick makes it to P10!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Mr. Lugo and Mr. Mancini had both believed they''d dismissed Luca entirely, ruling him out of contention in this race. Mr. Lugo, in particular, had been hopeful that this would be the defining moment to secure Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr their second consecutive F2 Championship Trophy.


    But now, seeing Luca''s red-and-black Dallara devouring asphalt in P10, his heart burned with fury and frustration.


    [Overtaking +1]


    [Distributing Attained Point to Attributes involved...]


    [Strength, Agility and Intelligence are all yet to reach level-up threshold]


    [Ding!]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne Skill Accumulating 5/6]


    Luca glanced up at the sky as a low rumble rolled across the French heavens.

 Chapter 175 French Grand Prix 10

    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨TTARGET: LUCA RENNICK // #21 //


    AGENT: Mrs. Coastfield | TEAM: ¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€ | CIRCUIT: Circuit du Soleil


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    DRIVER ASSESSMENT ¨C PAST AND CURRENT OBSERVATION


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ¡ªRaw Prowess: 85¡ª90


    ¡ªRacecraft: 80¡ª90


    ¡ªFortitude: 85¡ª90


    ¡ªSpeed Science: 85¡ª95


    ¡ªTacticality: 85¡ª95


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ? OVERALL DRIVER SCORE: 85¡ª88


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    The name Luca was undoubtedly on every clipboard, perhaps even on Bueseno Velocit¨¤''s Mr. Stock''s clipboard.


    Let''s not rule out the possibility of F1''s Bueseno Velocit¨¤ making a move to get Luca''s signature even though their star junior driver should make the top division.


    Mr. Grant, Ms. Vallotton, Mr. Fisher and the other esteemed figures in the board could only look at the track with pride as Luca engaged in yet another duel.


    His performance, climbing from P20 to P10, was nothing short of extraordinary. They agreed this level of brilliance was something they needed to secure for future seasons.


    A 12-fold increase in his salary was already on the table, elevating Luca to a staggering €8 million¡ªa record-breaking figure for Formula 2. Even Max Addams, valued at €5 million, paled in comparison.


    Though the value wasn''t finalized yet, the board was eager to make it official after this French Grand Prix. This move wasn''t just about rewarding Luca but also ensuring no opportunistic F1 team could lure him away at the end of the season.


    For Trampos Racing, €8 million was undoubtedly a significant investment, but given Luca''s performance and potential and to fix according to FIA rules, they saw it as a modest price to pay for keeping their star driver firmly in their ranks.


    [38th Lap]


    Luca had to temporarily pause his duel with Hatcherk Motorsport''s Peter De Klerk when the announcement for the safety car echoed loud and clear.


    The wet conditions had claimed yet another victim at the back of the track, leaving just 26 engines in play in this French Grand Prix.


    Luca sighed, steadying his car behind the same driver he had been battling, as the safety car''s lights flashed and reflected from afar while it peeled onto the track.


    "...Safety car is out in this French Grand Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Maintain delta time. Watch your gap to Legrasse and De Klerk.


    "Peter De Klerk," Luca repeated, weaving left and right as the cue of Dallaras lined up behind the safety car.


    From his position, he could see the side frames and mirrors of his true rivals in the top positions. Their colors blended so much that he couldn''t clearly discern who was in P1 and who held P2.


    For now, though, P9 was Peter De Klerk''s to keep. And Luca had to admit¡ªDe Klerk was a solid driver. 1x Race Wins, 7x Podium Finishes.


    Luca''s final remark about De Klerk was that he was like a wolf in the midst of lions¡ªgood, but surrounded by drivers who were just a little bit better. At 27, two years older than his star teammate Sean Aaronson, who was only 25, Luca couldn''t quite envision the Dutch driver making it to Formula 1.


    Moreover, Hatcherk Motorsport didn''t even have a senior F1 team, making the prospect of De Klerk''s advancement even more unlikely.


    Luca''s climb to the top had gradually become difficult as De Klerk showed him why he drove for Hatcherk. However, Luca''s difficulty in overtaking De Klerk tilted mostly on the wet conditions than De Klerk''s driving itself.


    The rain had picked up, the crowd roaring as heavier droplets began falling on Luca''s Dallara, creating a rhythmic pattern within seconds.


    The 40th Lap would soon begin, opening up the window of thicker tension that might even cause him, the host of a system, to be too entangled and lose control. Luca needed Slipsense & Rainborne and he needed it now, every drop of rain was like an echoing reminder.


    Without the skill, reaching P1 felt impossible. Based on Luca''s instincts¡ªsince the system hadn''t yet provided full details¡ªhe guessed it would give him an edge, allowing him to navigate faster and more efficiently than the other drivers.


    The skill might offer smoother handling through tight turns, improved tire grip as if the track were dry, and enhanced visibility through the rain.


    Luca would start out small with a [2] value, but who says that wouldn''t help than zero?


    "... safety car would be leaving the track!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...and ¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€ leads the pack down into the last chicane to resume this French Grand Prix! "


    A smart thought crossed Luca''s mind as he trailed behind De Klerk unthreateningly.


    He remembered that he would be starting Slipsense & Rainborne with [2] once he unlocked it. He also remembered that his Sync Buff was close to filling up.


    To see exactly how close, Luca glanced at the top-right corner of his system interface.


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    Half a bar left? Incredible!


    If Luca could earn another Overtaking Skill point, unlock Slipsense & Rainborne, and fill up the Sync Bar at the same time, it would create the most dangerous system combo level-up he''d experienced so far!


    Once activated, Luca would select Slipsense & Rainborne as one of the Skills to buff. Instead of starting at a measly [2], the Skill would shoot up to a powerful 50!


    Visibility would become as sharp as an HD photo, and the tires would grip the asphalt like they were one with it.


    This was the smartest plan Luca had ever come up with, and he couldn''t wait to execute it.


    Imagine driving at full speed under the influence of Sync Buff, taking sharp turns and descending the Drop without worrying about aquaplaning or spinning out!


    The crowd wouldn''t even believe it.


    **Okay. P1 has crossed the grid. Focus**


    Luca gripped his wheel tighter, chuckling at the sight of Peter De Klerk''s gearbox through the spray of water.


    The 27-year-old Dutch driver would be the crossing to his T in this plan. As they rolled down the straight, skimming over the grid, Luca readied himself to strike.


    [39th Lap] Luca''s system announced.


    Peter De Klerk emerged first with a burst of speed, leaving Luca, still in the 38th lap, to move under the required speed.


    However, once Luca crossed the line, he clutched his throttle, still cautious of his lack of owning Slipsense & Rainborne in his arsenal.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 9th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    De Klerk was navigating the first turns with reduced speed, which gave Luca the opportunity to enter Turn 1 just as De Klerk was leaving Turn 2.


    Unfazed by Legrasse''s delta, which his system provided shortly after, a determined Luca pursued De Klerk before the short straight could come into play.


    At the apex of Turn 2, Luca could see, across the wet grass and through the sheet of rain, De Klerk''s orange chassis weaving into Turn 4.


    "I need to keep up," Luca whispered, tilting his wheel in line with the track''s structure and completing the outside line he had taken for Turn 2.


    Seamlessly, he dove into the inside of Turn 3, battling the unstable traction caused by water on the track.


    "WOOOOHH!" S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The urge to be part of whatever the crowd was roaring about distracted Luca momentarily. However, he kept his focus and resolved to clear this hurdle first. For some reason, Peter De Klerk was maintaining the two-second delta between them.


    "Maybe the first straight will close the gap," Luca thought, responding to Mr. Ruben''s instructions to apply more downforce into Turn 5 and Turn 6.


    But first, the straight¡ªhis foot left the brake and pressed the throttle.


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Luca sighed.


    De Klerk had already finished the straight before he could even start making an effort to use Slipstream Mastery.


    Luckily, as soon as he followed into Turn 5, where De Klerk showed significant difficulties in weaving its steep, dangerous side, the time gap reduced a bit.


    [You are 1.2 seconds away, host.]


    Luca eyed the crest of the Drop from where the bottleneck of Turn 5 lay ahead.


    He debated whether to follow closely and chase down De Klerk, exiting with more momentum and finally overtaking the HM driver.


    But Luca considered the now-increasing rain and the growing amount of water on the track.


    Unlike when he was behind John Roberts, the track now had pools of water forming once again, meaning he''d definitely be blind.


    Moreover, Peter De Klerk was far better and more experienced than John. Luca couldn''t predict what surprises this rival might have in store for him. After all, he wasn''t even close to accurately predicting opponents'' actions with his system¡ªhe had to rely solely on intuition.


    Mr. Ruben also advised Luca to keep a safe distance, and he complied.


    Soon enough, Peter De Klerk was at the bottom of the Drop. A glance in his side mirror reflected Luca''s eager Dallara zipping down behind him.


    Sitting in 9th place in the standings, De Klerk knew this was probably his last shot at taking home points for the season. Another year without an F2 title, F1 still feeling out of reach. The weight of it all hit him as he thought about how potential worked, and why a 19-year-old like Luca from Trampos had so much of it.


    The gap between them had been 1.8 seconds. By the time Luca shot out of the Drop, it was down to 0.9. The Dallara fishtailed, struggling for grip, before locking in, the young driver chasing him down like a predator on his tail. De Klerk felt his heart racing, a little too familiar with that feeling, even though he was older.


    Hatcherk Motorsport team engineers warned De Klerk to be aware of Luca''s plans.


    All entities against Trampos and Luca, fans and teams alike still believed Luca was guilty of John Roberts'' spin out at Turn 8 back then. And now, HM engineers were warning De Klerk to be careful if Luca planned on doing the same to him.


    Meanwhile, Luca, unaware of the chatter on the team radio, hummed to himself, counting down the seconds until he could claim P9.


    Both drivers dove into Turn 8 together, but nothing happened to De Klerk. In fact, Luca struggled a bit as he was slammed with the full force of water spray from De Klerk''s tires.


    Back in the pits, Mr. Ruben and his engineers watched closely, noticing Luca gently feathering his brake as they approached the exit of the turn. They figured he was just trying to escape the spray, but then something caught their attention, and it was the circular DRS indicator that flashed on their screen.


    [DRS Engaged]


    The engineers erupted into cheers in the dimness of the rain.


    "....It''s crunch time as Luca makes his move on De Klerk! That''s the advantage Luca''s been waiting for. Trampos'' crowd''s on their feet as Luca engages DRS skilfully at the start of the straight!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **COVER YOUR LANE!** Peter De Klerk was warned, but the warning came when Luca was already beside him.


    A shove from De Klerk would send him ten positions back after he''d suffered a 20-second penalty.


    But would he risk it just to get Luca out of the race simply for hate and spite.


    No... not in Formula 2 at least. Luca would worry about that kind of unhealthy competition in the biggest division of motorsport.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s DRS window closed and he was nose-to-nose with De Klerk.


    Peter De Klerk tried to fight and gain the upper hand before they hit the next straight. He could almost taste the edge, but it was too far out of reach.


    Luca, with Side-by-Side King at 5, struggled his best to master the skill more. De Klerk''s heat was scorching, both drivers spraying each other''s tires, but at the end, Luca emerged victorious by making it into the inside line of Turn 9 first.


    De Klerk had no choice but to fall in behind, his spirit and morale taking a hit.


    "...Luca Rennick in P9!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Oh my word, mate! Incredible driving!**


    Luca let out a deep breath and gave another pump of his fist to congratulate himself.


    He loved the fact he could hear Trampos'' German cheers again! He had reignited them in this French Grand Prix!


    "...we might be experiencing a comeback in Le Castellet, Jon! Trampos'' Luca Rennick has found his way into P9!"


    [9th Position]


    [Side-by-Side King +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    Luca felt a tinge of concern and excitement. "Is... that all....?"


    [Overtaking +1]


    [Distributing Attained Point to Attributes involved...]


    [Strength, Agility and Intelligence are all yet to reach level-up threshold]


    "..."


    [Ding!]


    [Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!]


    [You have been rewarded with (EXP)!


    -Strength +1


    -Agility +1


    -Intelligence +1]


    "...?..."


    [Ding!]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne Skill Accumulating 6/6]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a Skill:


    -Slipsense & Rainborne: 2 ]


    "YES!"


    --


    --


    --


    A/N: Thanks for 100+ Golden Tickets and 1000 Privilege Unlocks ^?_?^

 Chapter 176 French Grand Prix 11: Sync Buffed

    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used.]As Luca drove in P9, Trampos'' cheers grew louder, annoying opposition spectators. They couldn''t help but chant elatedly, cheering Luca on to complete his comeback.


    He was making a comeback, wasn''t he? This was the 42nd Lap, with 13 laps to go to round up the final Grand Prix of the season. It''d be a great disappointment if Luca''s momentum just happened to falter halfway and he didn''t make it up to P5 at least.


    However, Luca had other plans in contrast to Trampos'' fears behind the supportive chants.


    This wasn''t a simple flash of brilliance to be later forgotten and only remembered in rewind clips. Neither was this going to be the extent of how far Luca would go.


    Sync Buff was full, sparkling and vibrating in its bar containment as if ready to drain its accumulated energy into Luca''s veins.


    Momentum would increase from here¡ªthat much, he wished he could assure everyone at Trampos. The only trouble he might have was time, the single factor that never waited for anyone.


    [Stamina +1]


    [Ding!]


    [The Stamina Attribute has entered a new stretch]


    [Ding!]


    [All Attributes are close to 30+]


    [Generating...]


    [.... successfully generated]


    [Strength: 28


    Stamina: 31


    Endurance: 28


    Agility: 28


    Intelligence: 28 ] sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Wow."


    I had no idea they had gone up this high, Luca thought as he drove through the rain, battling the water.


    After completing the task for the Daily Quest and completing the Daily Quest itself, it was more than reasonable that all his attributes were on the brink of a new threshold.


    A threshold where he''d unlock yet another skill.


    But for now, Luca was still fascinated by the recent skill he''d unlocked.


    [Slipsense & Rainborne: 2]


    Luca now had 12 skills in his arsenal, with 3 already maxed out and still providing minor boosts, while the remaining 9 were actively being leveled up.


    He figured that navigating the remaining 10+ laps on the wet Solaris circuit might just earn him another point for Slipsense & Rainborne, pushing it to 3.


    But how exactly was this skill supposed to work? Was there a specific technique to activate it, or was it simply about making effort and pushing his limits and adapting? The more he adapted, the easier it would become, as the skill point increase would make each subsequent effort smoother than the last.


    Luca asked the system to give him a full breakdown of Slipsense & Rainborne.


    [Retrieving Data on Slipsense & Rainborne...]


    [...Data Retrieved]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne enhances the host''s ability to navigate wet and slippery conditions by improving tire grip and visibility. This skill allows smoother cornering and greater control during heavy rainfall, reducing the risk of aquaplaning or spinouts. Effectiveness starts at 2% and can increase up to 40%, granting a significant edge in adverse weather conditions.]


    [Execution of Slipsense & Rainborne:


    ¨CAnticipate weather-induced changes in track conditions


    ¨CAdapt to lower grip levels and recalibrate braking zones


    ¨CFocus on maintaining traction through subtle steering adjustments


    ¨CPosition the car to utilize rain grooves on the track


    ¨CReact swiftly to hydroplaning scenarios, adjusting throttle and steering balance


    ¨CCapitalize on improved visibility and tire performance to overtake competitors safely]


    "Ahh.... I see. Makes very perfect sense."


    Luca would have to acknowledge the wet changes and begin to deliberately drive to adapt to it. This deliberate driving would help him hone whatever number value of the Skill.


    Luca took a deep breath and mentally swiped the interface to the basic display that had the track analysis before him and his Operational Status.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 295 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 75% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 235500m


    -Time: 1hr 2min.]


    After just 9 Laps?!


    Luca couldn''t believe his Operational Status was sitting at 72% after just nine laps since his last pitstop, his tires practically yawning in gradual exhaustion to come.


    That didn''t exactly scream "solid percentage" for fueling his Dallara with Sync Buff¡ªespecially since Sync Buff at Rookie, Intermediate, and Advanced Bundles only buffed him and not the car.


    Making a quick calculation, Luca figured his Dallara would wear out before the end of the race due to Sync Buff''s influence, prompting another pitstop. And a pitstop at the closing moments of a race was never a good idea.


    Imagine charging through the pack with Sync Buff, catching rivals left and right, only to end up broken down in the middle of Solaris, rain pouring down, tires dead. Laughable.


    And Luca didn''t also want to risk a pit now, as it jeopardized his P9, making it harder to climb again.


    "Urghggghhhhh!" Luca groaned inside his helmet, slicing through the wet track as the circuit droned another announcement.


    He thought about calling his engineers, maybe laying the problem on their table, but no. That wasn''t going to work.


    They were F2 Dallara-engineering experts, sure, but they all believed his car could make it to the finish with its current status. They didn''t know he had a system. They didn''t know about Sync Buff, the way it pushed him into full-throttle chaos.


    What was he even supposed to tell them?


    "Hey, guys, thinking of flipping on Sync Buff... you know, where I basically go feral on track? Yeah, I might need a pitstop for that."


    Nope. Not at all.


    Luca tightened his grip on the wheel. If he wanted to make this work, he''d need to figure out something else.


    After a while of pondering and deep calculation with his system, Luca came up with something simple.


    Similar to his evaluation during the Spanish Grand Prix, Luca calculated the number of laps left and the duration of Sync Buff, aligning it with the lengths he could push his Dallara at its current Operational Status.


    No Sync Buffing until the 49th Lap!


    Luca wasn''t sure he could wait that long, as the brimming bar in his system''s interface was tantalizing. Moreover, he was utterly tired of battling the relentless rain and the slick, unforgiving track.


    At times, whenever his rear tires threatened to slip away, Luca half-wished the water would just sweep him and his car off the track, carrying them away like a canoe adrift on a river.


    But in truth, to avoid a breakdown or an untimely pit stop, Luca had to stick to his plan. Activating his Sync Buff at the 49th Lap was the ideal move¡ªand, reluctantly, he agreed with himself.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 8th Position]


    [You are 3 seconds away, host.]


    "Who''s ahead?" Luca asked his engineers.


    **Walding** Mr. Ruben replied. A pause and he added, **Volyinski in P7 as well**


    "Alright, cheers."


    [Analyzing 10th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [9th Position is 3.5 sec away, host.]


    Luca had built enough delta from De Klerk. Now, he could drive safely and unthreateningly behind Dani Walding, focusing on maximizing tire performance and conserving ERS.


    And until the start of the 49th Lap...


    "¡­and we are steadily cruising toward the thrilling finale of this French Grand Prix here in Le Castellet! The drivers are pushing their limits in sync with the rhythm of the rain, battling through a track soaked to chaos, a track that has already claimed four spinouts this dramatic afternoon! It''s the 43rd lap in France, and the F2 championship trophy is teetering on the edge of destiny!"


    "¡­although Rennick has clawed his way up to P9, it''s simply not enough for Trampos! Erik Haas remains stranded below P10, and the points table currently tilts in favor of Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. If they hold on and cross the finish line with these standings, then ladies and gentlemen, we will be crowning our champions!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [45th Lap]


    "¡­we''ve been watching Rennick trailing behind Walding for quite a while now. Could he be setting up for a move soon?! Could he manage to slim down Velocit¨¤''s points and somehow keep Trampos alive in this championship battle?!"


    "¡­and by doing that, wouldn''t it be ironic? He''d unintentionally be keeping Squadra''s hopes alive too!"


    "...but no matter what position Luca Rennick currently occupies, we''re yet to see him pose any real threat to Dani Walding. Jon, what''s your take on this? Could it be the car? A questionable team strategy? Or just the rain working against him?"


    [47th Lap]


    **Come on, Lucaaaaa! I know you''ve got this** Mr. Moritz urged through the team radio.


    The entire crew sat in suspense, completely unaware of Luca''s true intentions. From their perspective, it just seemed like he was struggling to overtake Walding.


    More than three laps¡ªalmost eight minutes¡ªhad passed, and it was unlike Luca to hold back in the middle of the pack. The hesitation felt strange, almost unsettling, for a driver known for his awesome driving that made the crowd cheer.


    Luca replied to his team engineers with a few understandable complaints and some queries, making sure not to keep them in the dark while he drove to conserve energy and maintain tire wear.


    [48th Lap]


    Luca adjusted, locking in and zeroing his focus.


    He gently began to ease on his controls after being neutral for a long time.


    This quickly broke out a second from the delta between him and Walding.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 8th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    The rain was relentless now¡ªa silver curtain might have been a better description.


    The once-beautiful track was blurred, and so was Luca''s vision¡ªboth straight ahead and in his periphery. He had entered the radius of Dani Walding''s spray, further worsening the adversities against his survival on the track.


    Walding''s Dallara squirmed, and Luca could tell from the distorted, glaring brake lights that flashed and shook.


    Luca shifted his eyes to a spot on the track, hoping he could discern which lane had fewer chances of hydroplaning, the same hydroplaning that had almost consumed Walding.


    However, the relentless downpour limited track calculations by his system, forcing Luca to take a risk and drive past.


    Continue your journey with empire


    Managing it didn''t mean there weren''t more dangers ahead, so Luca decided to keep an eye on Walding, dropping back slightly.


    This adjustment would help him anticipate better and avoid the blinding spray.


    Both drivers sped down the Drop at a safe delta, drifting dangerously through its corners. Dani Walding almost suffered the same fate as his teammate¡ªhis right tires ran over the grass while the left remained on the curbs. At least he managed to get back on track before Luca fully exited the Drop and slammed into him.


    Funny enough, if that had happened, it wouldn''t have been a penalty.


    [Straightaway ahead]


    "Home straight," Luca whispered, gripping the base of his wheel tighter.


    This was it¡ªthe 49th Lap he''d been patiently waiting for to play his cards right.


    Now, watching Dani Walding disappear down the storm made Luca smile as he pulled out the panel of his Sync Buff.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    "Yes, let''s do this."


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 28 ???? 50


    Stamina: 31 ???? 50


    Endurance: 28 ???? 50


    Agility: 28 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 28 ???? 50 ]


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping/Spatial Awareness/ Night Mastery/ Grid Launch/ Slipstream Mastery/ Side-by-Side King/ Slipsense & Rainborne]


    It was customary for Luca to take his time, pondering deeply before deciding which Skills deserved a buff. But this time, his choices seemed clear, almost instinctive.


    First, Slipsense & Rainborne. This would help sharpen his ability to adapt to the treacherous wet conditions on the track, granting him better control and stability with the rain being so unforgiving.


    [Slipsense & Rainborne selected!]


    Second, Spatial Awareness. Crucial for managing tight corners and anticipating the movements of nearby cars or anything around him.


    Third, Side-by-Side King. This one had had him thinking a bit, but Luca had this feeling he might need it. After all, Track Awareness, Reflex and Overtaking Skills were maxed and he believed he could use his real values.


    So, Side-by-Side King would give him that extra edge in wheel-to-wheel battles, ensuring he maintained his line and composure when fighting for position with Sync Buff. After all, he still needed to climb.


    [Successfully Selected!]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne: 2 ???? 50


    Spatial Awareness: 7 ???? 50


    Side-by-Side King: 6 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 4 min. 59 sec left for Sync Buff]


    As soon as [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!] vanished from the system''s interface, Luca''s eyes widened with disbelief.


    Where did the rain go.....?

 Chapter 177 French Grand Prix 12

    Where did the rain go...?Realistically, heavy rain clouds still hovered over Le Castellet and its surrounding communities, villages, and cities, with real-time forecasts anticipating nothing less than continuous downpour.


    But figuratively, from Luca''s perspective, the rain had vanished.


    The clouds were still dark, the wind chill and breezy, yet it seemed to Luca that Dani Walding was struggling with nothing. The marshals at the side of the track, wearing raincoats, held umbrellas over their heads, shielding themselves from nothing.


    "Wonderful," Luca exclaimed as he realized what was truly going on with Rainborne in Slipsense & Rainborne.


    Squinting closely, he could finally make out the highlights of droplets tearing past, especially the ones trickling down his visor. This was only visible when he squinted.


    The raindrops were distorted, spread out, merging with the atmosphere¡ªor at least that''s how it seemed to Luca. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This distortion granted him an unobstructed view of the track, clearing it in such a way that even the pools of water no longer hindered his system''s effective track calculations.


    "Booyah!"


    At 50, Slipsense & Rainborne was awesome! Look at this!


    As for Slipsense, he hadn''t witnessed or felt the gradual change like he had with Rainborne.


    However, now, Luca''s tire grip had never felt better! Even Mr. Ruben and his crew were delighted with the impressive green indicators that had just begun to light up on Luca''s data display.


    [You have 4 min. 20 sec left for Sync Buff]


    Luca composed himself and focused on the race he had to win. No more ogling at the wonderful distorted raindrops or marveling at the excellent downforce he could feel.


    All Attributes at 50.


    Slipsense & Rainborne, Spatial Awareness, Side-by-Side King all at 50.


    Reflexes, Overtaking Skill, Track Awareness, all at 20+


    How could Luca not win the French Grand Prix?!


    [49th Lap]


    Dani Walding had created an extra two-second advantage while Luca was busy marveling at how efficient his rear tires were under the wet conditions. His car didn''t even look like he was running on Sync Buff yet.


    Realizing they were approaching the halfway mark of the 49th lap, Luca gripped his wheel tighter, his heightened senses pulsing through his veins. His tongue flicked across his lips, his expression sharpened with determination.


    **You are maxing your speed, Luca** Mr. Ruben warned. **We have water everywhere¡­**


    [You are moving at 300 km/h]


    Luca''s tires speared through the water as he pursued Walding, his eyes locked on the TRANSPARENT spray kicked up by his rival''s rear wheels in the distance.


    He clawed at every slick portion of the track, as if sinking into wet sand. Testing his limits, Luca deliberately took lanes with potential aquaplaning risks.


    "Marvelous!" Luca exclaimed joyfully, unaware that he was giving his team engineers high blood pressure.


    The pools of water that had sent some drivers skidding in today''s race¡ªand had almost ended his own¡ªwere no longer his enemy. They had become part of his arsenal, a surface Luca could glide over while others faltered.


    His car felt lighter, nimbler, as if this were an ordinary day at Bergwaldring Circuit.


    By maxing out his speed, combined with high Attributes and skill points, he had a 99% assurance of safe driving in unsafe conditions. The gap between him and Walding closed rapidly as he approached Walding''s gearbox before Turn 6 and the Drop.


    **Keep it clean, Luca!**


    Partially aware of Luca''s approach, Walding braked early, cautious of the slick patch ahead. Luca didn''t hesitate. The distortion made the water nearly invisible, and his Slipsense gripped the tires through the apex like they were on dry asphalt. Experience more content on empire


    Luca shot past, his Dallara cutting inside Walding''s car with millimeters to spare.


    The crowd erupted as Luca emerged ahead.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P8!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The commentary didn''t go wild as Luca overtook Dani Walding. The focus was on a much fiercer battle at the front of the pack, and to the audience, it seemed like Luca had simply executed a routine overtake.


    But for those monitoring his telemetry, it was a different story entirely.


    Mr. Ruben was in shock, his gaze locked on the live feed as he watched Luca finish the 49th lap at a blistering pace, even rounding the treacherous Turn 11 as if it were just another corner.


    He glanced at the telemetry display again, almost doubting its accuracy. The numbers were surreal, almost too good to be true. That was when he caught the smirk on Mr. Moritz''s face.


    "Is... is this what you meant?"


    "I''m telling you," Moritz replied, his tone laced with certainty.


    Mr. Ruben nodded in astonishment, his hands finding their way to his hips. The data didn''t lie¡ªLuca was on a completely different level now.


    Quickly, he leaned into the radio, the clatter audible to Luca on the other end. **Alright, Luca. Vlad Volyinski in P7, Benjamin Taubert in P6, Derstappen in P5, Oliver Kristensen in P4, Bellingham in P3, Addams in P2, Aaronson in P1**


    "Okay. Thanks a lot, sir," Luca replied calmly.


    [50th Lap]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 8th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Whenever drivers zipped past the grid into the next lap, it was a moment that always turned heads. The sound of engines roaring against the rain, the blurred streaks of cars slicing through the spray¡ªit was impossible to ignore.


    So, for Volyinski to barrel down the straight at a speed well-suited for the treacherous wet track was no surprise. But Luca, following close behind like a shadow born of chaos, was something else entirely.


    "...LUCA RENNICK MIGHT BE RACING TO HIS OWN DOWNFALL HERE! LOOK AT THAT MOMENTUM! FULL SPEED!"


    "... he''s on a mission to get back into the competition! He is not racing, Steve! Rennick has done this before! HE''S HUNTING!"


    Luca''s fingers tightened around the wheel, his knuckles white as he shifted into a higher gear. His HUD flashed a warning of ERS overuse, and even his engineers noticed, but Luca ignored it.


    Mr. Ruben grew worried.


    He''d watched the Spanish Grand Prix and the Hungarian Grand Prix where Luca started driving like this out of the blue, but he had a bad feeling about this one. Especially since it was on a track like this.


    **You should ease off, Luca. P7 is WAY better than a DNF**


    "I understand sir," Luca replied, still doing his best not to keep his team in the dark while he raced on his own purpose. "I can manage the spike."


    Luca''s mind churned as he shrunk the gap to Volyinski.


    He wondered what would happen if Mr. Ruben ordered him to stop driving at a high speed, and if he heard Mr. Grant''s and Ms. Vallotton''s voices on the radio, giving the same order.


    Would he have to obey his team or... defile them and continue on his plans?


    Just like Ansel did?


    Suddenly, a wave of deep reflection hit Luca, and he began to ponder on Ansel again and his stance against his decision in Riyadh.


    [You are 0.5 seconds away]


    Volyinski''s team did their best to warn him upon Luca''s approach. But the driver was busy battling with Benjamin Taubert. They were both in the same sector, but Benjamin was ahead.


    Imagine using DRS with Sync Buff.


    Volyinski was unable to deny Luca of P7 and Luca''s name moved up the leaderboard.


    [7th Position]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 7th Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    Luca didn''t even register his system''s announcement of P7.


    His eyes were locked on Taubert''s car at the bottom of the Drop while he just reached the top.


    Taubert attacked the next curves and Luca zipped downwards.


    Zzzzzzzzz¡ª Zip!


    Just like the last lap with Sync Buff, there was no:


    [System detects loss of speed control.]


    However there was still:


    [Host is involuntarily moving at 310 km/h.]


    "WOOOOHH!"


    And just like that, Luca blasted out of the Drop with such blistering momentum that he roared past Taubert, leaving no doubt about his intent.


    The sheer speed at which he exited made it seem as though he''d transcended what a SomberCore could manage.


    To the human eye¡ªat least to those watching from the stands¡ªLuca seemed to physically skip Turn 7 entirely, overshooting it with a ferocity that carried him straight into Turn 8, the wet track barely containing his charge.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [6th Position]


    "...OH MY WORD! RENNICK HAS JUST LAUNCHED OUT OF THE DROP LIKE A ROCKET! HE''S PAST TAUBERT AND¡ªWAIT¡ªDID HE JUST MISS TURN 7?!"


    "...HE DIDN''T MISS IT¡ªHE OVERSHOT IT! THE SPEED HE''S CARRYING IS ABSOLUTELY UNREAL! TO THE NAKED EYE, IT LOOKS LIKE HE TELEPORTED STRAIGHT TO TURN 8!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P7!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca Rennick is now flying in this French Grand Prix! From P20 to P6! Luca Rennick is now behind one of his rivals! ALBERT DERSTAPPEN HOLDS P5!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Mr. Ruben had no choice but to follow up. After all, in every race where Luca had unleashed this magical burst, he had never lost control into the barricades.


    **Alright, mate. Good driving, excellent driving, in fact. We think Derstappen will be easy at the rate you''re moving. He''s driving like he needs to box. Same for Kristensen** Mr. Ruben paused as his eyes flicked to the live feed, catching sight of Oliver Kristensen steering his violet Dallara into the pitlane under the relentless downpour. **Oh¡ªKristensen''s pitting already. Much better!**


    "Foolishness," Luca muttered with a grin, recalling Kristensen''s earlier desperate attempts to cling to the top three.


    Now, Kristensen was pitting from P4, and with both Derstappen and Luca charging ahead, he would drop to P6.


    [51st Lap]


    "...It''s rare to see a pit stop with just four laps to go in this F2 French Grand Prix! The final Grand Prix of the season! Velocit¨¤''s Max Addams holds P2, Squadra''s Bellingham holds P3¡ªit''s a fierce battle up there. But Trampos'' Rennick now climbs into the top five after Kristensen''s pit¡­ LUCA RENNICK HAS CLIMBED TO P5!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P5!"


    WOOOOHH!


    [5th Position]


    Sometimes, inheriting a position felt just as satisfying as earning it¡ªespecially when it came from the top spots.


    Luca allowed himself a brief glance at Kristensen''s Dallara parked in Retona''s box. The sight was satisfying, but it lasted only a moment before his focus snapped back to the track ahead.


    [Slipsense & Rainborne +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Power-up failed!]


    [Sync Bar is currently being used]


    Wow, so I got a point for Slipsense & Rainborne too? Nice.


    [You have 1min. 49 sec left for Sync Buff]


    Luca''s objective was P1, not P5. Troubling Mr. Lugo and his team was just a bonus, what he truly needed now was to anger them the more by taking victory this afternoon.


    Luca saw his opening! Derstappen, visibly fatigued after an hour of racing under the rain, couldn''t do anything. It was like a peaceful, inevitable transition of power and Luca gave him an honorable glance over before fully taking P4.


    **YEESSSSS!!!!!** All Trampos engineers erupted in celebration, jumping to their feet with headsets and wires bouncing as they cheered Luca on.


    To them, they believed that overtake was difficult!


    [4th Position]


    [Great job, host!]


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...WONDERFUL! WONDERFUL! WONDERFUL UNDER THE RAIN! WONDERFUL IN THIS FRENCH GRAND PRIX! LUCA RENNICK TAKES P4! LUCA RENNICK IN P4!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P4, Albert Derstappen in P5!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "DAMNNNNNIT! Damn it!" Miles cursed as Luca''s red-and-black Dallara glimmered menacingly in his mirrors. "THIS FUCKING PEST!"

 Chapter 178 French Grand Prix 13

    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨TTARGET: LUCA RENNICK // #21 //


    AGENT: Mrs. Coastfield | TEAM: ¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€ | CIRCUIT: Circuit du Soleil


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    DRIVER ASSESSMENT ¨C PAST AND CURRENT OBSERVATION


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ¡ªRaw Prowess: 95¡ª98


    ¡ªRacecraft: 85¡ª95


    ¡ªFortitude: 90¡ª95


    ¡ªSpeed Science: 97¡ª99


    ¡ªTacticality: 95¡ª97


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ? OVERALL DRIVER SCORE: 90¡ª95


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    Similar to how Max underwent yearly evaluations by Bueseno Velocit¨¤''s senior team, Squadra Corse regularly assessed Albert Derstappen in the same manner.


    There was even a time, just two seasons ago, when Derstappen was on the verge of becoming an F1 driver for Squadra Corse. However, things didn''t go as planned, and the opportunity slipped away.


    Still, these evaluations remained consistent, and now, his teammate Miles found himself under the same scrutiny, his performance noted on the team''s clipboards as well.


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    TARGET: MILES BELLINGHAM // #73 //


    AGENT: Mr. Y?lmaz | TEAM: Squadra Corse | CIRCUIT: Circuit du Soleil


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    DRIVER ASSESSMENT ¨C PAST AND CURRENT OBSERVATION


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ¡ªRaw Prowess: 80¡ª82


    ¡ªRacecraft: 70¡ª75


    ¡ªFortitude: 80¡ª85


    ¡ªSpeed Science: 70¡ª72


    ¡ªTacticality: 75¡ª80


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ? OVERALL DRIVER SCORE: 75¡ª82


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    Miles, in P3, had been holding good ground since this French Grand Prix. But with Luca in P4, sharing the same section with have now totally stripped away the acknowledgement of his efforts.


    Now it seemed losing P3 to Luca at this stage¡ª51st Lap¡ªmight attract some reprimand... and also affect his drafting.


    Devastated that Luca closed the gap effortlessly and pulled next to him ahead of Turn 9, Miles had no option than to ponder at the brink of committing a heavy penalty or just watching like a dummy as Luca took P3.


    This mental dilemma led him to scream loudly in his padded helmet as he glanced at Luca. "Damn you, Luca! Look at me!"


    Luca didn''t spare him a glance.


    He had no time. Sync Buff was expiring faster than he had predicted and he really needed to make it to P1.


    Though he did feel Miles'' outburst, it was the last of his concerns as he slipped into the apex of Turn 10, claiming P3. After all, he''d heard him yell a lot in high school.


    [3rd Position]


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **YES!! YESS!!! YES, LUCA! You''ve got P3! Incredible work, mate! Incredible! Keep this pace¡ªP2 is just ahead!**


    Even Mr. Grant couldn''t believe it. This could surely go down as one of the historic climbs in motorsport! His very own 19-year-old Luca Rennick!


    "...Unbelievable! Luca has done it! He''s climbed to P3 in the most dramatic fashion imaginable! HOW IS LUCA RENNICK IN P3 IN THIS FRENCH GRAND PRIX?!"


    "...oh my word, Steve. From the moment his name slipped in P10 I had a feeling about this! A comeback! In the best way possible! Moving at a high speed! Luca Rennick throws Miles Bellingham out of podium contention!"


    "...not good for Squadra, Jon! This might affect their chance at the championship trophy!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P3, Miles Bellingham in P4!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Frustrated were Squadra Corse Jnr''s engineers, especially their top head engineer. Their own corresponding Mr. Ruben.


    After all his attempts, relaying important info for Miles under the rain, Luca now made it all seem like casual chatter rather than team strategy being discussed.


    He flung his headset away and glanced at the live feed where Luca''s red-and-black Dallara still moved at a speed and momentum under the wet conditions which no one could comprehend and understand.


    Many prayed he spun out and crashed. Many believed he was just lucky, and speed was actually the jackpot.


    Perhaps if other drivers zipped through the circuit at the same speed Luca was using, maybe the wet track and its deadly features wouldn''t affect them?


    Hehe...No chance, Luca thought.


    **A round of applause up in the hospitality suites** Mr. Moritz informed Luca.


    "For me?" Luca asked.


    **Yes! You are amazing! Awesome driving!**


    "What about Erik?"


    **P10**


    "Okay," Luca said silently.


    He tried to listen for the applause, but he couldn''t. The relentless patter of the rain and the whine and roar of the SomberCores drowned everything out.


    Maybe when he overtook Max, he''d force their soft, corporate hands to clap louder¡ªmaybe even earn a standing ovation.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 8th Position]


    [You are 2.5 seconds away, host.]


    With his outstanding vision through the rain, Luca could see Max was making effort¡ªalmost a duel now¡ªfor P1 against Aaronson. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They were approaching the last chicane, ready to begin the 52nd Lap.


    Luca had to give credit to Aaronson. He was exceptional today, and in many ways, deserved P1.


    Luca wasn''t sure if Aaronson had lost P1 earlier in the race, but the fact that he still held it with the race nearing its conclusion showed he''d put on a spectacular performance.


    And for that, Luca was grateful. Aaronson''s driving had kept Max firmly within competition range. If Max were in P1 already, Luca doubted he''d have a real shot at it.


    [You have 55 sec left for Sync Buff]


    Less than a minute! Damn it! I have to push harder¡ªeven if it''s just for P2!


    "...And here we are, folks, on the edge of our seats as the championship takes an electrifying turn! Aaronson still clings to P1, but Max is breathing down his neck, turning this into a fierce battle at the last chicane!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Sean Aaronson has been nothing short of brilliant today. Holding onto P1 this late in the race¡ªon a track this treacherous¡ªshows why he''s one of the best. But the question is, can he fend off Max for just a few more laps?"


    "... Steve, don''t forget who''s in P3! Luca Rennick is closing in! The young man with a vision like no other in this downpour is now a growing threat to the top two!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca has dismantled every challenge thrown at him today, and now he''s within striking distance of Max. The championship standings are at stake here."


    **Rennick is coming in fast, and he''s eating into your gap like it''s nothing** Velocit¨¤ Jnr engineers alerted Max. **You need to prioritize defense. Forget Aaronson for now, or we''ll lose P2 altogether. Hold your line and make it impossible for the lad to pass**


    Max frowned, taking his gaze to his side mirror just to see the very colors he loathed since this season.


    **Max, do NOT engage Aaronson in the next lap. Stay sharp. Hold off Rennick.... force him to slide**


    Max nodded, muttering under his breath, before easing off from Aaronson just as they hit the home straight.


    Luca noticed his defensive movements immediately and understood what was happening. If it were him, he would also prioritize keeping P2 against a bigger rival rather than gambling everything for P1.


    However, if Max had yet to grasp the massive difference between a Sync Buffed Luca and an ordinary driver like himself, he was about to learn it the hard way this afternoon.


    [Straightaway ahead], Luca''s system announced belatedly, just as he entered the straight.


    Without hesitation, Luca began aligning his car, the wet track offering no resistance and his visibility at an all-time high. Expertly, he deployed Slipstream Mastery, positioning himself perfectly behind Max, who struggled to navigate through the water with his usual precision.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 8th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    "...AND LUCA RENNICK MAKES IT TO MAX''S SIDE BEFORE TURN 1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Wonderful slipstream use, mate!**


    [Slipstream Mastery +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Power-up failed!]


    [Sync Bar is currently being used]


    [You have 30 sec left for Sync Buff]


    It felt like a predestined overtake and no matter how much Max Addams executed his A-class defence, Luca''s ascent to P2 was mentally termed unpreventable and fated by the spectators especially those with pen in their hands.


    They were at the edge of their seats, ready to capture every subtle move made by the two powerhouses.


    Max managed to hold on by DELIBERATELY PLACING HIMSELF IN SPOTS WHERE LUCA COULD HIT HIM!


    This was called the Bait Block tactic.


    It''s a psychological and strategic move where a driver deliberately positions their car in a way that tempts the pursuing driver to make contact. The aim isn''t to crash but to provoke a situation where the trailing driver touches the lead car or makes an overly aggressive move, risking a penalty for themselves.


    In Max''s case, by placing his car in these risky positions, he hoped to frustrate Luca, forcing him to either back off or make a reckless move that the stewards would penalize.


    And Luca, eager to make it into P2 before Sync Buff expired, might just fall into Max''s trap.


    But Luca was smarter than this! His system had helped him grow in so many ways he anticipated Max''s desperate move.


    [Intelligence: 28]


    In front of a Sync Buffed Luca, Max took the inside line at the apex of Turn 6, determined to stay ahead.


    Luca, who was tired of being forced to stay behind him, darted for the outside lane.


    There was a hydroplane there, and he was certain that was one of the reasons Max went for the inside lane.


    Luca rounded the outside with finesse, leaving Max awed on how he easily zipped over the hydroplane.


    [Track Span Analysis: 3 meters wide (outside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 2 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.6 meters (0.25 meters on each side)]


    The outside lane worked to Luca''s advantage and FINALLY, Luca was able to slip into P2!


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [2nd Position]


    **YESS!!!!!!** Mr. Ruben screamed on top of his voice, his face red and veins bulging in triumph.


    " .... LUCA RENNICK IN P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [You have 10 sec left for Sync Buff]


    Max didn''t slam his fist on his wheel yet. He still had a chance to reclaim P2 if he just drove well.


    Out of Turn 6, the track widened largely to welcome the drivers to the Drop. The same Drop he hoped to blind Luca with his spray¡ªnot like Luca would be with Slipsense & Rainborne at 50.


    Now, if Max didn''t take his chance, Luca would be the one spraying him just like before!


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...MAX ADDAMS IS STUNNED, FRANCE IS STUNNED AS TRAMPOS HAVE THEIR DRIVER AT P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [3rd Position closing in]


    Luca knew there was no time to celebrate now, and this system notification was no surprise. Luca knew firsthand how relentless Max.


    Even with the Drop... Max Addams actually wanted to race down the track side-by-side with Luca!


    Big Mistake!


    [Side-by-Side King +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Power-up failed!] Discover hidden stories at empire


    [Sync Bar is currently being used]


    [You have 5 sec left for Sync Buff]


    ~....enabling you to force opponents into less optimal racing lines or.... PRESSURE THEM INTO ERRORS~


    When Max realized his mistake, he could already feel his rear lifting up to the sky.


    At that moment, the hatred Max felt for Luca¡ªand the overwhelming, almost suffocating aura that seemed to radiate from Luca''s car whenever they raced side by side¡ªreached its peak.


    Luca had just forced Max to brake at the Drop.

 Chapter 179 A Race Rewritten In Water And Will

    Luca wouldn''t have noticed if not for his heightened Spatial Awareness. This forced him to shoot a glance at his side mirrors.A short wave of reminiscence surged through Luca as Max''s car''s reflection rolled by, leaving the track. But this time, instead of a slide out, it was tumbling!


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca decided to concentrate for the next few seconds. He had the momentum and the speed required to overtake Aaronson through Turn 7. If he could just commit before Aaronson could register him as a threat....


    Aaronson was unable to defend P1 as Luca claimed it, ceasing the top of the leaderboard at the apex of the turn, sending a wave of water splashing on Aaronson''s orange Dallara.


    [Sync Buff has elapsed!]


    "WOOOOHH!''


    The crowd couldn''t decide which to roar about¡ªLuca''s astonishing climb to the top of the leaderboard or Max''s tumbling, leading to his car stranded in the middle of the fine grass.


    Well, Trampos crew celebrated for both of them!


    Luca had made it to P1 and Max had just tumbled out of the track! They all jubilated and jumped on their feet, Trampos'' garage so loud it penetrated through the rain to the hearing of everyone and Max, who had come to a stop.


    [1st Position]


    **YES! WE DID IT! YOU DID IT LUCA!!** Mr. Ruben screamed into the radio, a bodacious contrast to the now silence in the grandstands.


    "...OH MY WORD! Max Addams is OFF! He''s OFF THE TRACK! AND IT''S A TUMBLE! MAX IS TUMBLING THROUGH THE GRASS! WHAT ON EARTH JUST HAPPENED?! Max is out of control, and this is a disaster for the championship standings!"


    The broadcast feed split into a frantic montage: Luca''s rearview mirror catching the horrifying spectacle of Max''s car leaving the wet racing line, flipping through the soaked grass like a helpless toy, while on the other side of the screen, Luca surged forward with unparalleled determination.


    "...Let''s take this back¡ªlook at the sequence! Max Addams tried to hold his line at the Drop, but the conditions were merciless. He braked late¡ªtoo early¡ªand the grip was just GONE!"


    The crowd finally found their voice, especially Trampos fans. "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Rennick didn''t even flinch as Max''s Dallara practically rolled past him in the mirrors!"


    The cameras cut back to Luca, his car slicing through the rain-soaked track like a scalpel and that was when everyone fully comprehended that Luca had the lead.


    "... RENNICK CLAIMED P1 FROM AARONSON! LUCA RENNICK LEADS THIS FRENCH GRAND PRIX WITH HIS RIVAL OUT AND DOWN ON THE GRASS!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The moment was a spectacle. Water splashed in dramatic waves from Luca''s tires as he powered through the next chicanes, leaving Aaronson trailing in his wake.


    **YOU ARE THE MAN, LUCA! YOU. ARE. THE. MAN!**


    Luca could hear the jubilant chaos erupting through his radio.


    Behind Mr. Ruben, the ecstatic voices of the entire team spilled into the comms, echoing through Luca''s cockpit. They were all shouting, jumping, laughing and someone was banging the pit wall.


    Trampos was celebrating in the rain-soaked air as Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr garage was haunted with silence.


    Although Luca relished the abrupt change that just occurred in this race, he was yet to understand how it happened.


    The only reasonable cause might have been a soft imperceptible contact or from Max''s driving.


    Nervous about an incoming penalty, Luca asked his ecstatic engineers.


    **Not at all. You didn''t touch em! You are 100% innocent!**


    **P1, LUCA! P1! YOU DID IT!** Luca heard a voice yell in the background.


    "...LOOK AT THE TRAMPOS TEAM, JON! THEY CAN''T BELIEVE IT!. They''re SCREAMING, they''re JUMPING, and why not? LUCA RENNICK IS NOW LEADING THE FRENCH GRAND PRIX!"


    Meanwhile, the cameras briefly returned to Max Addams'' stranded car, now eerily still in the damp grass. Your next journey awaits at empire


    By the time Luca reached Turn 12, close to ending the 52nd Lap, the safety car was announced immediately and marshals hurried onto the track, running across the grass with umbrellas to get to Max.


    "...The Safety Car is now deployed! Drivers will need to slow down and follow the Safety Car as it enters the track. This is going to neutralize the race temporarily, and we''ll see how quickly the marshals can clear the area and assess the situation."


    Max managed to climb out of his car on his own, even before the marshals arrived. He groaned as he unfastened the harness, shoving himself up and out of the cockpit.


    Rain poured relentlessly, soaking him as he stumbled to his knees on the wet grass, his body language radiating pure defeat.


    Frustration consumed him.


    His mind replayed the moments leading to his crash, and all he could think about was how Luca''s aggressive maneuver forced him into braking down the Drop. If Luca hadn''t been contesting the spot so fiercely, maybe this wouldn''t have happened.


    "...MAX ADDAMS HAS FAILED TO FINISH IN FRANCE!"


    "...Oh, the heartbreak! The championship contender is OUT of this race!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The announcement only stoked Max''s anger. He dug his gloved fingers into the damp grass, clawing at the soil beneath as if venting his frustration into the earth itself.


    **It''s not your fault, Max. We''re not out yet. This just delayed our victory** his team engineers said through the radio.


    But the words from his team offered little comfort.


    "...And at the front, Luca Rennick now leads the pack behind the safety car!"


    "...What a dramatic turn of events! This race has flipped on its head!"


    The marshals finally reached Max. One knelt beside him under the rain, asking gently, "Are you alright, Max?"


    Without answering, Max removed his helmet, his face twisted in frustration and fury. He gripped the base of the helmet tightly and took a step back, his emotions boiling over.


    "OOOOUUHH!"


    Max slammed the helmet into the ground. Once. Twice. A third time.


    "...Oh, he''s completely lost it now!"


    "..FOURTH TIME!"


    "...FIFTH TIME!"


    ".. SEVENTH TIME!"


    "...TEN TIMES! MAX ADDAMS SMASHES HIS HELMET TEN TIMES BEFORE STORMING OFF THE TRACK!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The crowd roared in a mixture of shock and awe as Max finally turned his back on the scene, leaving his car and helmet behind on the soaked grass.


    Mr. Lugo bit his lip as he watched his star driver, Max Addams, walking toward the Velocit¨¤ garage from the far end of the track. Guided by a few marshals under the relentless rain, Max''s form was heavy with frustration, even though he was unharmed. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    While Max was physically fine, their battle for the top of the championship standings had taken a devastating blow.


    Mr. Lugo exchanged a few quiet words with his strategists and the head team engineer beside him, his gaze never leaving Max''s trudging figure. The situation was a bitter pill to swallow.


    A round of applause erupted from the Bueseno Velocit¨¤ spectators and even a few rival fans, recognizing Max''s brilliant driving throughout the race¡ªuntil it all came crashing down.


    Now, with Luca Rennick sitting comfortably in P1, Trampos was poised to extend their lead in the championship standings.


    Luca had been the thorn in everyone''s side since the start of the season, and if not for his mid-season injury, Trampos might have already secured an early victory.


    Mr. Lugo couldn''t even begin to make sense of it all. His frustration mirrored Max''s, if not exceeded it.


    Was it Ms. Vallotton''s addition to Trampos? Had she carried secrets and expertise from Velocit¨¤ to their now bitter rivals?


    Or was it simply that Trampos had their year?


    Or was it just #21, Luca Rennick?


    Whatever the reason, Mr. Lugo loathed how the season was slipping away from Velocit¨¤. With Dani Walding barely hanging on at P8, the team would only salvage five points from the French Grand Prix.


    Meanwhile, Trampos was set to walk away with a staggering 27 points.


    There was no doubt in Lugo''s mind now¡ªLuca would finish this race in P1.


    Yes, Aaronson simply couldn''t challenge Luca with his car''s limitations against Luca''s mastery of Slipsense and Rainborne now at [3] after Sync Buff expired.


    53rd Lap and Trampos cheered Luca on as the safety car peeled away! The championship trophy was well within their reach now, and for Luca, the drivers'' championship was still in his sights.


    He still had a chance!


    Seeing the checkered flag unfurl in the distance was the most satiating sight any driver could see.


    Another Grand Prix victory for Luca Rennick. Another triumph in the presence of his mother and the people up above who came to watch him!


    [1ST POSITION]

 Chapter 180 P20 To P1 Win In France!

    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨TTARGET: LUCA RENNICK // #21 //


    AGENT: Mrs. Coastfield | TEAM: ¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€¨€ | CIRCUIT: Circuit du Soleil


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    DRIVER ASSESSMENT ¨C PAST AND CURRENT OBSERVATION


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ¡ªRaw Prowess: 96¡ª99


    ¡ªRacecraft: 87¡ª95


    ¡ªFortitude: 93¡ª97


    ¡ªSpeed Science: 97¡ª99


    ¡ªTacticality: 96¡ª98


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    ? OVERALL DRIVER SCORE: 93¡ª95


    ¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T¨T


    Very impressive performance from Luca in Circuit du Soleil, winning him the French Grand Prix on his first race after a one-month injury.


    An exhilarating victory that prompted Trampos to celebrate all evening and through the night.


    Regardless of the rain, the podium was set up to congratulate the top three drivers at the end of the 55-lap race. The wet track was no more for them to battle as all cars slowly rolled to a stop in the cool-down area.


    Luca, the victor, stood on top of his own Dallara that faced Trampos'' fans section.


    Lifting his arms in victory, his system congratulated him for making a podium and winning the race.


    Just like what happened between him and John Roberts, the masses¡ªespecially Velocit¨¤ supporters and those critical of Trampos¡ªwere quick to point fingers at Luca for Max Addams'' DNF.


    Many speculated that Luca had made contact with Addams, while others argued it was a case of over-aggression.


    In Formula racing, over-aggression penalties can sometimes be handed out even if there''s no physical contact. These penalties, often minor like a three-second penalty, serve as warnings to promote safer driving and prevent catastrophic incidents on the track.


    Most of the time, such penalties don''t significantly impact a driver''s race, as drivers typically serve them during pit stops where the time loss is minimal.


    However, by the peak of the 54th lap, the marshals announced that Luca was not at fault for Max''s crash. Telemetry data revealed that Max had braked suddenly out of confusion. Luca hadn''t blocked his line, nor had there been any contact. With this, the accusations against Luca were officially dismissed.


    It was just the sheer difference of Luca with Side-by-Side King at 50.


    The penalty controversy caused a full-on clash between Velocit¨¤ and Trampos garages. Velocit¨¤ were furious, throwing accusations and condemning Luca for Max''s DNF, while Trampos fired back with jeers and dismissals. Why wouldn''t they? The marshals had ruled in their favor, and Luca''s performance only widened their lead.


    For the first time, it looked like Trampos Racing would win the F2 Constructors'' Championship. Their lead was almost untouchable.


    Velocit¨¤ only had the slimmest of chances in the final race, and Squadra Corse Jnr. had an even smaller one.


    Squadra would need a miracle to win. Both Luca and Haas would have to DNF, while Milles and Derstappen would need to outperform Max and Walding by a considerable margin.


    Not impossible. Just... incredibly unlikely. Velocit¨¤ and Squadra would have to fight tooth and nail, while Trampos could afford to keep things steady and still clinch the title.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 275


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 238 Experience new stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 236


    4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 175


    5. | Retona Racing | 90


    The Drivers'' Championship was an entirely different battlefield. After the French Grand Prix, the standings told the story of a tightly contested season:


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -------------------------------------


    1. | Max Addams | 155


    2. | Luca Rennick | 151


    3. | Miles Bellingham | 146


    4. | Sean Aaronson | 144


    5. | Ansel Hahn | 115


    The competition for the championship was electrifying. Any of the top four drivers¡ªAddams, Rennick, Bellingham, or Aaronson¡ªcould still claim the title, regardless of their team''s position in the Constructors'' standings.


    Luca trailed Max by just four points and held a narrow five-point lead over Miles. Aaronson, sitting in fourth, was only two points shy of Miles.


    The gap from Max to Aaronson? A razor-thin 11 points.


    And 11 points? That wasn''t a cushion¡ªit was a liability. At the finale, if Aaronson crossed the line in P1 and Max finished outside the podium, those 11 points would disappear like dust in the wind.


    As it stood, the Drivers'' Championship was wide open. Addams, Rennick, Bellingham, and Aaronson¡ªfour drivers, four hungry competitors, all with an equal shot at becoming the next F2 World Champion. The stage was set for a thrilling finale.


    The qualifying session for the 12th round would be wild...


    "...1st Position, Luca Rennick!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The crowd erupted in cheers, the Trampos Racing supporters roaring the loudest as Luca stepped confidently onto the middle of the podium, the golden spot reserved for the victor.


    The adrenaline of his hard-fought victory still surged through him as he shook hands with the presenter, his mischievous smile aimed squarely at Miles, who stood to his left in P3.


    Luca gracefully accepted the gleaming Grand Prix trophy, raising it high above his head.


    "...Le Castellet, France! Luca Rennick secures his FOURTH Grand Prix victory this season!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...an exhilarating afternoon to remember for him. His ascent from P20 to P1 was nothing short of incredible! F1 potential! Trampos Racing have themselves an asset and he just showed his worth here in Circuit du Soleil!"


    "...P2 goes to Sean Aaronson and Miles Bellingham, a strong youngster as well, claims P3 to finish the podium!"


    Neither Miles nor Aaronson clapped. Without a word, they hopped off the podium, removing their medals and heading straight back to their respective teams. Neither showed the faintest intention of participating in the champagne celebration, leaving the spotlight solely on Luca. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This gave Luca the perfect opportunity to revel in his victory with McCauley and the rest of the Trampos crew, who rushed under the drizzle and eagerly climbed onto the podium.


    "WOOOOHH!" Trampos erupted as Luca handed the trophy to McCauley, who raised it high with both hands, his face glowing with pride. The rest of the crew joined in, each taking turns to touch the shining gold. Laughter echoed across the stage as the team gathered tightly around Luca, patting him on the back and cheering wildly.


    "...it''s ours! Muahahahaha!" McCauley shouted.


    Together, they hoisted the trophy collectively, the cameras capturing the joyous moment as if it was the final Constructors Championship trophy they held.


    Then came the champagne.


    In his celebrations, Luca had totally forgotten Sophia and his mother were in the grandstands as he had wished to celebrate with them.


    Instead, after spraying a full bottle of champagne over his cheering crew, Luca grabbed another and swiftly uncorked it.


    With a mischievous grin, he tilted the bottle up and began drinking, the crew erupting into cheers and encouragement. "Down it, Luca!" one of them shouted.


    Determined to fully embrace the victory, Luca drank deeply, savoring the warmth of the alcohol as it hit him. The excitement of the win, paired with the alcohol, began to cloud his senses.


    He had every intention of getting thoroughly drunk to mark the occasion.

 Chapter 181 Skipped Sunday, Sister, Smell Of Success And Shower

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...][Host has missed Sunday''s Daily Routine]


    It was 11 AM, and Luca was still sprawled across his bed, the dim sunlight creeping through the curtains unable to stir him. The previous night had been a blur of laughter, cheers, and wild celebration, and now his body paid the price.


    The bottle of champagne he had drained on the podium was just the beginning. By the time the team had returned to the garage, the party had escalated into complete chaos, with Luca leading the charge.


    In the garage, the Trampos crew had completely let loose.


    McCauley was seen spinning a chair while holding Luca''s trophy over his head, mimicking Luca''s mind blowing start with Grid Launch.


    Dennis decided it was the perfect time to climb onto the spare tire rack and proclaim himself the "King of Pitstops" before belly-flopping onto a padded bench.


    Luca, fueled by victory and alcohol, had lost track of how many bottles had been passed around. Champagne, wine, and even beer found their way into his hands as he celebrated with abandon.


    As the hours ticked by and the celebrations showed no sign of slowing, Luca stumbled out of the garage, still in his champagne-soaked Veststar suit.


    He barely remembered making his way to the team''s luxury bus, but he did recall leading a drunken chant about Trampos'' imminent championship victory. The crew followed him, still hyped, turning the bus into a mobile afterparty.


    The Trampos fans who were eager to engage with Luca were disappointed after Trampos'' inner celebration and their then exit. Luca was too drunk to even remember his family. At least, he spoke with the press first before he delved deeper into the alcohol.


    Upon returning to Paris and their designated facility around 8:30 PM, no one had the intention to retire, not even Mr. Grant himself.


    Luca sat with the other crew members around a round table, laughing and cheering as they competed in taking shots. That was the last clear memory he could piece together before everything turned into a hazy blur.


    "Jesus Christ," Luca muttered groggily, glancing down at himself.


    He was still in his red Veststar suit, drenched in a sticky cocktail of champagne, sweat, and who knows what else. The smell was enough to make him grimace. He ran a hand through his hair, which felt just as unkempt as the rest of him.


    "Did I even make it to bed on my own?" he asked aloud, his voice hoarse, though no one was there to answer.


    The only thing that responded to Luca''s groggy question was the sharp pounding of his headache and the persistent ringing of his phone.


    "Ugh¡­" he groaned, grabbing the phone and squinting at the screen.


    It might have been the ringing that finally woke him. Judging by the ache in his body and the dim light outside his window, he had probably slept straight through the morning and might go into the afternoon.


    Sara.


    Unbeknownst to Luca, Sara was sitting in the driver''s seat of her Ford, parked in the facility''s open lot, repeatedly calling his number.


    She had arrived earlier that morning, as Luca had told her to the day before. He''d planned to meet his mother and Sophia on Sunday, ensuring they''d stayed at the same hotel as Sara and Mallow to make things easier. Luca had also mentioned attending the F1 French Grand Prix together.


    But now, here Sara was, calling for the 24th time with no answer.


    Some staff who had noticed Sara waiting outside asked why she was there. She explained she was looking for Luca. After checking on him, they informed her he was passed out and sleeping off a night of heavy drinking.


    Not satisfied, Sara had initially driven off, disappointed, only to return later. Determined not to be ignored, she resolved to keep calling until Luca finally picked up!


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    Luca answered Sara''s call and quickly apologized for the wait, assuring her that the plans hadn''t changed. He explained that it would take more than just a quick bath to get himself cleaned up, given the state he was in.


    Still, he decided to at least get dressed, brush his teeth, and head out to greet her. Once he was presentable, he would take a moment to catch up on everything that had been happening at the facility.


    Luca lifted himself from the bed, his body heavy from the lingering effects of the night before. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tight against the daylight.


    After a minute of struggling, his red Veststar now lay discarded on the floor, still damp and sticky.


    His headache throbbed as he moved toward the bathroom, stumbling a bit as he passed the mirror and caught a glimpse of his disheveled reflection.


    Luca sighed, grabbing his toothbrush and brushing as fast as he could. He wasn''t in the mood for anything more elaborate. After spitting out the toothpaste, he threw on some khaki shorts and a simple white vest before leaving his room.


    The facility was quiet, but there were a few people up and moving around. Luca spotted McCauley among them, surprising him.


    He had expected McCauley to be feeling just as rough as he was after the night''s celebrations. But there he was, already up and about, greeting everyone with energy.


    Luca couldn''t help but wonder how McCauley was managing, given that they had both indulged in more drinks than they could probably remember.


    Luca stepped outside and saw Sara''s car parked in the lot, the warm sunlight catching the car''s sleek curves. He made his way over and opened the passenger door, which was facing him.


    Sara, who had been watching him approach, looked straight ahead when he opened the door. "You look like anything but 1st place," she scoffed.


    Luca chuckled, too tired to offer much more, and rested his head on the soft leather of the passenger seat. "Is that your new way of saying congratulations?" he asked, his eyes heavy with sleep.


    "Nope," Sara replied with a smile, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Check the backseat."


    Luca raised an eyebrow but didn''t ask questions. He lifted his head from the seat and walked around to the back. When he opened the door, a familiar face grinned back at him from the shadows.


    Luca''s expression was calm, almost as if he had expected this moment. "Sophia?"


    Before he could react further, Sophia practically leaped out of the car and pounced on him.


    Despite feeling the weight of his fatigue, Luca caught her, though he stumbled slightly from the surprise. "What are you doing here?" he asked with confusion. "I was just coming to meet you guys."


    Sophia presented herself like a maiden. "Well, here I am."


    Luca sighed and shifted his gaze to Sara, raising an eyebrow. "You let her in your car?" he asked.


    Sara shrugged nonchalantly. "What did you want me to do? The girl''s persistent."


    Before Luca could respond, Sophia, clearly unimpressed by his state, took a step back and wrinkled her nose. "Oh my goodness! YOU REEK!" she exclaimed, dramatically stepping away from him.


    Luca laughed and sniffed himself, the odor of sweat, champagne, and a long night of partying still clinging to him. He smelt far worse than he had expected after just one night without a shower. "I''ve smelt worse than this, don''t you think?" he teased, his voice a little groggy. "Besides, I reek of victory."


    At the mention of "victory," Sophia''s face lit up, as if Luca had flipped a switch. Her eyes sparkled, and she quickly leaned in, ready to share her thoughts about the race the day before.


    Luca leaned against the car as Sophia excitedly recounted her own version of the Formula 2 French Grand Prix. He struggled to stay focused, keeping his eyes open as her enthusiasm spilled over with every word.


    "Since you''re here, I might as well introduce you to Trampos," Luca interrupted.


    Sophia''s eyes lit up at the mention of the team''s name, and Luca could tell she was eager for the introduction. He nodded toward Sara, letting her know they''d be out in about an hour before turning his attention back to Sophia and leading her toward the buildings.


    "You didn''t respond to the birthday wishes I sent you. Guess I won''t wish you next year."


    "No problem."


    As they reached the entrance, McCauley spotted them and quickly walked over. He took in the sight of the younger girl beside Luca. "What do we have here, Luca?"


    "This is my younger sister, Sophia," Luca said, pulling her a little closer. "Sophia, this is¡ª"


    "You can just call me Cool Cauli," McCauley said with a grin, offering his hand to Sophia.


    Sophia giggled as she shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Cool Cauli," she replied with a smile.


    McCauley, still grinning, shot her a playful look. "Beautiful girl. Can you do a 360?"


    Sophia quickly withdrew her hand. "I''m sorry, but no," she said, not missing a beat.


    Luca punched McCauley lightly on the chest. "Piss off, mate," he said, pulling Sophia away as more male crew members began to gather around them.


    Luca then led Sophia up to where Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton were stationed. In his mind, they were the people who his family should meet.


    Ms. Vallotton was absolutely delighted to see Sophia and immediately commented on how much she resembled her when she was younger. Mr. Grant, on the other hand, offered his most chivalrous remarks before checking in on Luca''s health after his wake-up.


    Luca safely left Sophia in Ms. Vallotton''s quarters before heading back to his room to get fully prepared.


    As he had planned, this wasn''t going to be a simple bath.


    Since he had skipped the gym that morning, Luca decided to make up for it with 100 push-ups, sit-ups, and pull-ups, followed by some yoga, before heading into the bathroom.


    After a twenty-minute bath, Luca exited, feeling refreshed and dressed in a t-shirt, casual cargo pants, and sneakers. He added a Catapult wristwatch to track his health for the day, especially after missing his usual routine.


    Then, his eyes landed on the Formula 2 French Grand Prix trophy. He couldn''t help but smile. The winner of the French Grand Prix, after throwing his rival off the track! Luca still couldn''t fully believe how he turned that race around in his favor.


    He picked up the trophy, remembering that all Grand Prix trophies went to his mother and sister, while personal achievements and the final championship trophy would be his to keep.


    Before leaving his room, Luca activated his system and requested that it show him his profile.


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Personal Information:


    Name: Luca Rennick


    Age: 19


    Nationality: Italian ]


    ------------------------------


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 74 kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 33%


    Strength: 28


    Stamina: 31


    Endurance: 28 sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Agility: 28


    Intelligence: 28 ]


    -----------------------------


    [Personal Stats:


    Nickname: None


    Status: 6 year contract


    Salary: $636,000


    Team: Trampos Racing


    Race Win: 4


    Podium Finishes: 6


    Pole Positions: 2]


    ------------------------------


    [Skills & Techniques: Total Grade - A


    Pitstop Prodigy: 12


    Corner Chopping: 11


    Straightaway Chopping:8


    Spatial Awareness : 7


    Night Mastery: 4


    Grid Launch: 6


    Slipstream Mastery: 8


    Side-by-Side King: 6


    Slipsense & Rainborne: 3


    Others (Completed)


    Others (Locked) ]


    ---------------------------------


    [Displaying Completed Skills...]


    [... listing resumed]


    [Reflexes: 20 (+2)


    Overtaking Skill: 20 (+6)


    Track Awareness: 20 (+2)]


    -------------------------------


    Luca was steadily reaching the milestone of having all his attributes at 30. Achieving this would grant him a new skill¡ªpossibly the last one he could obtain through that method.


    Meanwhile, raising his other skills to 20 was another available path for gaining more. There were plenty of opportunities through that route, but to make the most of them, Luca had to maintain peak performance.


    Luca left his room and picked up Sophia from Ms. Vallotton''s quarters before leading her out to the lot and into Sara''s car.


    Sophia climbed into the backseat, holding Luca''s trophy, while Luca settled into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt.


    Without a word, Sara started the car and drove out of the facility.


    Luca glanced back to see Sophia furiously tapping away at her phone. "Don''t tell me you''re one of those people who''s always on their phone?"


    Sophia didn''t look up. "I am," she replied simply.


    "Hmm. What do you guys even do on there? Social media?" Luca asked.


    "Yes," Sophia answered.


    "I read an article once about how social media rots your brain. You''re about to enter university, don''t you think you need to keep your brain intact?"


    Sophia burst out laughing, falling back into the seat and kicking her legs, her amusement filling the car even as Sara drove.


    Sara chuckled too. "Luca, you sound like an old grandpa," she said. "Now, drivers, teams, sponsors¡ªheck, even the FIA¡ªuse social media to promote and spread info. You might want to set up your own accounts, especially once you make it to Formula 1."


    "Oh," Luca muttered, glancing at his phone and noticing how empty his app list was.


    He dropped his phone back into his pocket and turned to Sara. "Let''s stop somewhere before we get to the hotel," he suggested, then looked back at Sophia. "As the schoolgirl here, you make the choice."

 Chapter 182 Rooftop Reflection

    After stopping at a cozy caf¨¦ for some quick pastries and coffee, Sara drove Luca and Sophia through the beautiful streets of Paris, the city''s charm perfectly displayed at every turn.They soon arrived at the hotel, where Luca reunited with Mallow and his mother, exchanging warm greetings and catching up briefly before settling in.


    Mrs. Rennick quickly ordered Luca to lift his shirt so she could assess his ribs herself. Since August, she hadn''t rested and still believed Luca wasn''t fully healed until her own hands confirmed it.


    Luca assured his mother he was fine and spoke with her about his progress, both on the track and in his personal life.


    Proud of her son, Mrs. Rennick grabbed his cheek and lowered his head for a kiss on the forehead. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca left his mother to relax and gathered with Mallow to discuss the race.


    As expected, Mallow''s praise for Luca was off the charts, showering him with laudits. He kept going on about how Luca had dominated the race, calling his moves "legendary" and his timing "supernatural."


    The two of them strolled through the hotel''s rooftop garden, a serene, open space adorned with flourishing greenery and a soft breeze that carried the scent of the freshly bloomed flowers.


    The view of Paris from the garden was breathtaking, with the Eiffel Tower in the distance. A few other guests shared the rooftop with them, admiring the scenery.


    Mallow informed Luca that Sara had spent the whole night answering congratulatory calls, including those forwarded to her line from Luca''s voicemail while he slept his long sleep.


    "She handled it all pretty well," Mallow said casually.


    Luca nodded. "She always does."


    Mallow began listing the names of the callers.


    Some were familiar to Luca, some he''d only heard of, and others were complete strangers. As Mallow went on, Luca found himself reflecting on how rapidly his fame in Formula racing was growing. Either way, he was humbled by the recognition and congratulatory messages.


    One name in particular caught Luca off guard, and Mallow was well aware. He continued narrating the whole situation, explaining that the person had called him as well with something else in mind.


    Mr. Vance.


    Luca could hardly believe he might hear that name again after the British Grand Prix. He began to wonder why Mr. Vance was contacting Mallow about him.


    "What did he say?" Luca asked, coming to a stop mid-stroll.


    Mallow let out a deep breath, placing his hands on his hips. "To be honest, I didn''t even believe him at first, but he sounded genuine," Mallow said. "He asked me to tell you he wants to agent for you."


    Luca raised an eyebrow. "Agent... for me?"


    Mallow nodded, still processing the unexpected call. "Yeah. He said the Federation''s removing him from his position as Operations Manager at Stadhaven because of the upcoming restructuring, and now... he''s looking for something new."


    "Why doesn''t he just find another job?" Luca asked, his mind flashing back to the Stadhaven Circuit and Mr. Vance''s office.


    Mallow chuckled lightly. "It''s not that simple, son. People don''t just walk away from something they''ve done for years. Sometimes, they try to find a way to stay in the same world, just... in a different capacity. That''s life, isn''t it?"


    "When did you turn into a philosopher?" Luca said with a scoff and a smile, leaning onto the rooftop railing. He casually waved at a group of young girls standing nearby, all of them clearly staring at him as Trampos'' driver and yesterday''s race winner. "So, you''re saying I should let him become one of my agents?"


    Mallow spread his arms. "It''s up to you, son. But I won''t lie, things are piling up fast on my end. I could use the help."


    "Haha. When did you become overworked? You don''t look stressed at all," Luca remarked.


    "Me? Not stressed?!" Mallow shot back, feigning shock. "Luca, you have no idea. I''m constantly monitoring updates, chasing information, fielding calls from teams, sponsors, and media outlets. Then there''s managing your schedule¡ª"


    "My schedule?"


    "Yes! Keeping you on track with PR commitments, ensuring your endorsements are in check, and handling every little thing that pops up at the last minute. I have to anticipate problems before they happen, and let me tell you, that''s no small task when you''re involved."


    Luca raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh, I''m that difficult now?"


    Mallow laughed. "Your job is to drive, isn''t it? I bet you don''t even know how much you have in any of your accounts."


    "..."


    "Or how much you made just yesterday," Mallow continued. "You earned someone''s fortune out there, and I make sure you get every single dime of it."


    Luca couldn''t help but smile.


    The biggest congratulations, naturally, came from his biggest sponsor¡ªMrs. Hawthorne. Following close behind was Fijee Energy Beverages Ltd., both of whom had been essential to his journey so far.


    Luca''s smile was infectious, making Mallow grin as he slung an arm around him. "Don''t worry, champ. You''re going places. The higher you climb, the heavier the weight¡ªmentally and physically, if you know what I mean. And you''ll definitely need a bigger team. Who knows? Maybe even five agents someday."


    "Five agents? Really?" Luca asked, raising a skeptical brow.


    "Of course!" Mallow exclaimed with a smirk. "With me as the head, naturally."


    Luca chuckled, nodding as he glanced out at the beautiful city skyline. "I''ll think about it," he replied.


    Mallow then reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek red envelope.


    Luca immediately recognized that distinct shade of red¡ªit was Trampos'' signature crimson.


    "This is an invitation to tomorrow''s dinner night. Came in a bit late, but I guess you earned it late too," Mallow said with a grin, handing Luca the letter.


    Curious, Luca took the envelope, broke the seal, and unfolded the letter inside.


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    Oh, I know this, he thought.


    Luca had heard about these dinner nights before. Organized by motorsport hospitality groups¡ªexclusive circles of wealthy individuals, sponsors, and influential figures who had significant stakes in the sport¡ªthese gatherings were like a secret society of sorts.


    They often came together after the season''s final Grand Prix to network, celebrate, and solidify partnerships. It was more than just a fancy dinner; it was where deals were made, alliances were forged, and futures were decided.


    Despite expecting the event to happen, Luca had never anticipated receiving an invitation himself.


    However, as Luca continued reading the letter, a particular detail caught his attention, offering some clarity on why he might have been invited.


    A driver''s retirement.


    Luca''s mind raced as he realized how much he''d been caught up in his own whirlwind of events¡ªthe weeks of rib recovery, the relentless preparation, and finally the victory at the French Grand Prix. It hit him then that he had completely forgotten about something announced months earlier.


    Back in early September, around the 5th or 6th, Marco Rossi had officially declared his retirement from Formula racing.


    After an entire year of speculation from fans and pundits about why Jackson Racing had stopped putting Marco behind the wheel, both the team and Marco had publicly confirmed that he was stepping away from the sport for good.


    "Well, that''s one elite driver out of the competition," Luca murmured to himself.


    Luca didn''t grow up knowing any of these drivers in this generation, so he really didn''t feel bad. But even at that, watching how skilled Marco was while behind the wheel was a spectacle and it would be sad to see such expertise sign away.


    Luca wondered what could have prompted Marco Rossi''s retirement. At 33, Marco was past his prime but certainly not too old in Luca''s eyes. It wasn''t uncommon for drivers to continue racing at a high level for a few more years.


    Was it contractual issues? Family responsibilities? Or had Marco simply decided it was time to step away and move on?


    As Luca thought about it, it dawned on him that this must be the reason behind his invitation¡ªand likely that of other drivers¡ªto the dinner night.


    So, it wasn''t just an end-of-season celebration; it was also a farewell party for Marco Rossi. The Federation, ever efficient, must have decided to combine the events to avoid overloading schedules.


    Luca sniffled at the thought, folding the letter as he leaned back.


    Imagine being in the same hall with men and women who could buy Trampos outright if they wanted, he mused.


    "Won''t you attend? You look lost," Mallow asked, snapping Luca out of his thoughts.


    "I will," Luca replied, glancing down at the invitation again. "It even says an invitee can bring two family members or friends."


    "Woowwwwwww? It said THAT?" Mallow asked, his voice exaggeratedly high. "So, who are you bringing?"


    Luca burst out laughing. "Definitely not you! Ha! I''m taking Sophia and Sara."


    Mallow gave an overly dramatic frown. "I feel betrayed."


    "Well," Luca began with a smirk, "Sophia might meet the child of an influential person who attends her school and could end up making some connections. And Sara, AS MY PA, would need to work closely with me during the event. Plus, who knows? Maybe she''ll find the love she''s secretly searching for but won''t admit."


    Mallow crossed his arms, mock pouting. "And here I thought we were closer than that."


    Luca paused.


    He just remembered to attend such an occasion he was obliged to be dressed in a Hawthorne branded attire. That meant a well-polished suit from Casa de Costura Reyes.


    Luca had no attire yet. He''d never visited them for tailoring.


    And he believed he should. After all, Casa Reyes had a huge branch here in Paris just like Lavelle did.

 Chapter 183 F1s Grand Prix de France

    Luca stole the spotlight on Sunday. After arriving at the circuit with his family, Luca left them in a three-star suite before he left to meet up with a few Trampos fans that came to attend the F1 race.Luca decided to make up for not engaging with them after the race, so he spent a lot of time taking photos with an umbrella under the soft drizzle.


    Around then did the influx of people intensify and Circuit du Soleil was gradually filling to capacity in anticipation of the evening race.


    Although the day was about Formula 1, any individual still worthy of being questioned by the press was rushed to, and Luca found himself being fast-interviewed by F1 microphones and not F2 microphones.


    In the tunnel, Luca had the honor of meeting Sam Hamilton, who had just arrived and was preparing to head toward his commentary booth up at the gantry.


    Sam, with his polished British accent, greeted Luca warmly, embracing him with poise and introducing him to other personnel in his company.


    They shared a light moment as cameras clicked away, capturing a gallery of photos. Shortly after, Sam and his team ascended to the top of the stands, where an official announcement welcomed everyone to the final Grand Prix of the season.


    As the excitement built, a standing ovation erupted for Marco Rossi, the retiring legend whose presence electrified the circuit.


    Luca scanned the area past the track, searching for Rossi, and eventually spotted him waving gracefully to the cheering crowd from the glass room perched above Jackson Racing''s garage.


    Definitely loyal forever.


    In his private suite, Luca was taken aback to see another F2 driver present to watch the race. It was none other than Peter De Klerk, Hatcherk Motorsport''s standout driver and teammate to Sean Aaronson.


    The two competitors greeted each other with mutual respect, extending polite introductions to their families.


    Unlike Luca, who sported a casual Trampos team-branded shirt and cargo pants, De Klerk stood out in a sharp, dark navy suit that radiated professionalism.


    The double-breasted suit was impeccably tailored, mirroring the elegance of his wife, who wore an identical outfit in a feminine cut.


    Even their children¡ªa boy and a girl¡ªwere dressed in matching ensembles, completing the polished family appearance.


    Luca found it hard to believe he was sharing the F2 grid with someone who balanced the life of a family man alongside his racing career!


    After Luca introduced his own family in return, everyone settled into their seats.


    Sophia suggested Luca sat in the middle of her and their mother, but Luca refused. He told them to sit to his right while he reserved the seat on his left for someone else.


    It wasn''t Sara nor was it Mallow. It was Adrian Hawthorne¡ªMrs. Hawthorne''s first son.


    Since July, Luca and Adrian had gradually begun to get to know each other beyond Luca''s role as the ambassador for Hawthorne in Formula racing.


    At first, Luca had been hesitant. He couldn''t imagine what he and Adrian might have in common. Adrian was born into wealth and privilege, his entire life surrounded by opulence. Luca figured their conversations would inevitably revolve around grandiose topics, leaving him feeling underwhelming in comparison.


    Yet, Adrian''s persistence eventually broke through Luca''s reservations, and today seemed like a good opportunity for them to hang out.


    Mrs. Hawthorne was in Paris, but for reasons unknown, she wasn''t attending the race in Le Castellet. Adrian, however, had made the effort. Taking a short break from school, he flew from Paris to Le Castellet to watch Luca race under the rain and secure victory. Now, he was here to enjoy the F1 battle alongside him.


    At 21 years old, Adrian carried himself with a youthful charm. Though he looked younger, his lean frame and poised demeanor hinted at refinement, while his posture suggested he was used to attention. He studied at a far more prestigious university than Isabella''s¡ªa fitting institution for someone of his background.


    Perhaps because he was still in school, Adrian hadn''t yet begun engaging in Hawthorne''s business ventures. Luca had observed that in other dynasties, young men at 21 were often already deeply involved in family affairs.


    A three-star suite overlooking Turn 10, positioned just beside Turn 11 with a clear view of the rolling valleys, wasn''t a bad spot at all. As Adrian stepped inside, all eyes naturally gravitated toward him. With his usual air of confidence, he scanned the room, quickly spotting Luca. He gave a regal wave before making his way over.


    Luca, leaning against the suite''s railing with a casual posture, nodded in greeting as Adrian approached. The timing was perfect as the grid announcement was about to begin. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "... welcome ladies and gentlemen to the Formula 1 French Grand Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The suite quieted, everyone focusing on the screen as the lineup was revealed.


    P1¡ªHank Rice


    P2¡ªAlejandro Vasquez


    P3¡ªJimmy Damgaard


    P4¡ªAntonio Luigi


    P5¡ªMarcellus Rodnick


    P6¡ªElias Nystr?m


    P7¡ªMarko Ignatova


    P8¡ªMikhail Petrov


    P9¡ªLuis Dreyer


    P10¡ªDavide DiMarco


    Formula 1 grid lineups were always fiercely competitive, which made it all the more puzzling for Luca to see a Bueseno Velocit¨¤ driver starting at P10.


    P10 wasn''t necessarily a bad position¡ªgiven the level of competition, it was respectable. But considering that a team like RMC Grand Prix, with its comparatively weaker chassis technology, had managed to place a driver higher on the grid than a Velocit¨¤ driver, it was surprising.


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    The announcement of the final few drivers on the grid rippled through the suite and the grandstands, triggering scattered applause and murmurs of approval.


    "...Drivers, please report to your cars. The engines will be rolled out in five minutes!"


    Luca chatted with Adrian until the cars were rolled out to the grid, each driver taking their respective positions under their team''s livery.


    The drizzle had stopped, though occasional drops of water still sliced through the sky. The track glistened under the faint moisture, but it was nowhere near as treacherous as the conditions Formula 2 had endured on Saturday.


    One by one, all five red lights illuminated, and Luca could hear the deafening symphony of A-level engines roaring to life.

 Chapter 184 A Visit To Casa Reyes

    Casa de Costura Reyes, ranked third among the most prestigious fashion houses in the world, stood as a beacon of opulence and craftsmanship.Adrian narrated to Luca it was established over six decades ago, and since then, they''ve always maintained their synonymous nature to sophistication and impeccable garments that redefine elegance.


    Their client list was very impressive with one of their most notable patrons being the President of the United Arab Emirates himself. He would often don their custom-tailored ensembles during international summits and state affairs.


    Their branches were in London, Madrid, Milan, Dubai, Paris and a few more. This made Luca wonder how far Mrs. Hawthorne''s networking must be since she owned such a prestigious house.


    In fact, one of their most legendary creations was the "Aurora Noir" suit, unveiled five years ago. It was designed using rare vicu?a wool blended with silk spun from golden spider threads, and it featured hand-stitched platinum-thread embroidery on the lapels.


    Adrian explained that the masterpiece was adorned with discreet diamond accents. This made Luca less surprised when he added it was sold for an astounding $4.3 million, making it one of the most expensive suits ever created.


    Today, they had driven to their Parisian atelier which was a historic 19th-century building far bigger than Armand Lavelle''s own headquarters in Paris as well.


    Coincidentally, when they arrived at the place and were exiting their ride, a small fleet of black cars with mirror flags rolled into the lot. The owner of the fashion mansion before them had just arrived.


    Adrian immediately strode toward the middle car, where Mrs. Hawthorne and his younger brother, Henry, were stepping out. Mrs. Hawthorne''s keen eyes quickly spotted Luca, Sophia, and Sara standing near the entrance, and her face broke into a warm smile as she approached them.


    "Is this your sister?!" she exclaimed, her thick British accent rolling off every syllable as she gently took Sophia''s hand.


    "Yes," Luca and Sophia answered simultaneously, their voices overlapping awkwardly.


    Mrs. Hawthorne tilted her head slightly, studying Sophia with a gleam of approval in her eyes. "Oh, my," she murmured, looking over at her son. "We might as well cross out any other suitors, don''t you think?"


    Everyone laughed, except Adrian, whose cheeks reddened instantly. He sighed and groaned, "Mother, let''s just get inside. We''re here for fittings, not matchmaking." S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Don''t be so dramatic, darling," Mrs. Hawthorne said before gesturing toward the grand doors. "Come along, now. I''ll see my champion gets the best treatment."


    With Mrs. Hawthorne leading the way, they were ushered past the sparsely crowded atelier floor into a grand, private section reserved for the most esteemed clients. The space was adorned with ornate gold accents, high ceilings, and crystal chandeliers that reflected the luxury of Casa de Costura Reyes.


    A distinguished man, impeccably dressed in a velvet suit, greeted them with a deep bow. "Madam Hawthorne, always an honor," he said warmly.


    She exchanged pleasantries before gesturing toward Luca. "And do you know who this young man is?" she asked.


    The man nodded immediately, extending his hand to Luca. "I do, madam. Welcome, Mr. Rennick. My son follows Squadra Junior closely¡ªthough I must admit, he wasn''t too pleased with Saturday''s result. Congratulations, regardless."


    Luca chuckled as he accepted the handshake. "Thank you. This is my sister and my assistant," he added, gesturing to Sophia and Sara.


    Mrs. Hawthorne, now comfortably seated nearby with her younger son, spoke up again. "See to it that they receive the absolute best, as always."


    The man straightened with a nod. "Naturally, madam," he said, clapping his hands. A group of tailors quickly appeared, ready to assist.


    Turning back to Luca, the man smiled. "Now, let''s hear exactly what you''ll be needing."


    Luca was here mainly for two pairs of suits he needed to get quickly ahead of the dinner night he was invited to. Other customizations could come later since they already had his measurements on record.


    He also wanted to ensure Sophia had fine attires¡ªsomethings befitting her new environment at an opulent school where blending in would mean wearing well-tailored suits and elegant formal dresses.


    Luca''s measurements were consistent with those at Lavelle, though the tailor here made slight adjustments¡ªa half-inch reduction in his chest measurement and a small increase in his arm length. The precision was admirable, showing how seriously they took their craft.


    For Sophia, her measurements were carefully taken as she stood with her arms lightly outstretched. Her waist measured 24 inches, complemented by a bust of 32 inches and a hip measurement of 35 inches. Her inseam was 31 inches, and the tailor noted her fine frame, recommending cuts that would enhance her elegance without overwhelming her proportions.


    "How do I look?" Sophia asked, twirling lightly in a gown she had tried on just for fun.


    Luca glanced at her from head to toe, eyebrows slightly raised. "That doesn''t look like anything you''d wear to school. Not even for a date," he remarked.


    Sophia pouted. "What if I get invited to a ball?"


    "Are you planning to keep a dress gathering dust until then?" he shot back.


    "What do you mean, Luca? She looks stunning, doesn''t she, Adrian?" Mrs. Hawthorne chimed in with an amused tone.


    Adrian, leaning against the arm of a chair, muttered, "It''s a 10/10 dress, mother. Most girls would look beautiful in it."


    Mrs. Hawthorne smiled warmly at Sophia. "Don''t fret, dear. You can take it."


    Luca frowned, unsure whether "you can take it" implied Mrs. Hawthorne intended to pay for the dress. He certainly wasn''t about to¡ªSophia didn''t need a princess-like gown for studying a law-related course.


    "Is she accompanying you to the dinner?" Mrs. Hawthorne asked as Luca adjusted a coat suit he was trying on.


    "Yes," he replied curtly, checking the fit in the mirror.


    "Alright then, Sophie, find another dress of your choice," Mrs. Hawthorne encouraged.


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    "Thank you!" Sophia exclaimed before turning to Sara. "Could you help me pick one out?"


    "Of course," Sara said, rising from her seat to follow Sophia toward the wardrobes.


    Luca, unimpressed by the gown selection spree, turned to Mrs. Hawthorne. "What about you? Will you be attending? Are you part of any club yet?"


    Before she could respond, two men and a woman, all dressed in black, entered and whispered something to her. She nodded, replying smoothly before refocusing on Luca. "Not yet, darling. I''m still new to this game, and I want to make the right connections. These things take time."


    Luca adjusted the cuffs of his coat, smoothing out any wrinkles and pulling the collar just so. He gave a final tug to the sleeves, making sure the fit was just right. Then he turned to face everyone. "Okay... How does this look on me?"


    Mrs. Hawthorne, her fingers gently running through Harry''s hair, glanced up and smiled. "What do you think, Spot?" she asked, addressing Harry with his nickname.


    "He looks like a detective," Harry said, eyes wide as he admired Luca. He''d always seen Luca as his best formula driver, but now Luca had that mysterious, sharp look about him.


    Luca chuckled, nodding in approval. "Detective, huh? I''ll take it."


    Adrian gave his assessment. "I like it, Luca. You look great."


    Mrs. Hawthorne looked behind her at the three figures standing guard¡ªtwo men in sleek black suits and one woman, all sharp-eyed and alert. "What do you think of the coat?" she asked. "I think it really highlights his shoulders and his height."


    Man 1, "He looks great, madam."


    Woman, "It''s a mature dress code. Perfect for winter."


    Man 2, standing quietly to the side, gave a brief but approving nod. "It is great."


    Mrs. Hawthorne beamed, clearly satisfied with the response. "Could you put a scarf around your neck as well?"

 Chapter 185 Midnight at Le Jardin élysée; A Toast To #19 Rossi

    The prestigious dinner night honoring Marco Rossi''s retirement was set to take place on Tuesday at Le Jardin ¨¦lys¨¦e, an opulent venue in the heart of Paris. Located along the Seine, this luxurious estate combined historic grandeur with modern sophistication.The event began at 7:00 PM sharp.


    The timing wasn''t just random, that was when the Eiffel tower normally lit up, casting its golden glow over the city. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In the venue, Le Jardin ¨¦lys¨¦e, the main hall, Salle des ¨¦toiles, had been totally transformed into a vision of Parisian elegance. The marble floors reflected the soft golden light casted by the crystal chandeliers hung from the adorned ceiling.


    Many circular tables draped in white clothes with golden embroidery faced a wide stage that had a similar design for its back wall. White roses and lilies also surrounded the stage as well, and a soft musical echoed through the room as it slowly filled up from 7 PM.


    Accoglienza di Gran Premio and Crown Hospitality Alliance were the two major hospitality clubs that came to host the event although some others would be present as well.


    While the Director of Ceremonial Affairs and Public Relations, Mrs. Marchand was the FIA''s appointed representative for the event. She was here to oversee the Federation''s role in Marco Rossi''s farewell to the fellow drivers who''d be attending.


    To reflect this, a simple decor like Marco Rossi''s race number #19 was etched on some champagne bottles and napkins, and a go-kart that looked just like his Jackson Racing''s Ferrari was parked to the side of the stage.


    The empty spaces gradually filled with people and so were the parking lots outside the venue.


    Attendees included all members of the hospitality groups of course and then, invitees. Invitees like team principals, drivers and dignitaries.


    Many members of these hospitality clubs were deeply displeased with the Federation''s decision to merge the two events.


    The reason was clear: this night was meant to be an exclusive gathering for hospitality club members, a rare opportunity for them to network and enjoy each other''s company without outside distractions.


    Having drivers and others present¡ªthough there were only a few¡ªfelt out of place. The stark difference in wealth and status between the club members, team principals, the drivers and others created an uncomfortable imbalance, as they all belonged to an entirely different world of fame and privilege.


    For many, it diluted the exclusivity that these gatherings were meant to uphold.


    Luca, unaware of the tense, dejected atmosphere inside, arrived purposefully late with Sara and Sophia by his side.


    Their sleek car fit perfectly among the lineup of luxury vehicles in the parking lot, helping them blend in effortlessly with the crowd.


    Before leaving, Luca had asked Mallow who had sent the invitation. Mallow, clueless, explained that it came through a simple delivery, leaving Luca walking in with no idea who had invited him.


    As Luca glanced around, it didn''t take long to notice the limited number of drivers present.


    How many F2 drivers were here?


    One. Just him.


    How many F1 drivers were here?


    Seven. Out of the thirty-six active and reserve drivers.


    It was clear this night was more exclusive than he had anticipated.


    8:30 PM. Dinner.


    A luxurious five-course meal was served, featuring a fusion of Italian and French cuisine.


    "So, every man here''s a driver?" Sophia asked Luca, glancing around the room as Sara remained glued to her phone, barely sparing them a glance.


    "No, no. There are only eight drivers here, including me," Luca clarified. He then began gesturing subtly, a manner only Sophia could decode, helping her follow his train of thought.


    "It''s reasonable Marcellus Rodnick is here. He and Rossi were once teammates," Luca explained. "Di Renzo is likely here for the same reason¡ªshared little history with Rossi. And Hank Rice? He''s probably here because of their friendly rivalry. Almost like frenemies, you know? No Squadra Corse drivers, no Velocit¨¤ drivers. Trust me, there''s a reason for that. You''ll figure it out soon enough."


    "And the other four?" Sophia pressed.


    "Two of them are Jackson Racing reserves, still tied to the team. As for the other two... I think they might be from other teams, but honestly, I don''t really know them."


    Luca glanced at Sophia''s plate and frowned. "You might want to eat more. We''re leaving here by midnight."


    Sophia touched her abdomen, grimacing. "This dress is too tight around my tummy. If I eat more, I won''t be able to breathe," she complained softly.


    He shook his head, half-amused, half-annoyed, before sighing in relief as the announcement came through for the next activity¡ªthe tribute to Marco Rossi''s retirement.


    As the dishes were swiftly cleared from the tables, a flurry of movement at the entrance caught his eye. A handful of press members entered the hall, their presence immediately shifting the atmosphere.


    Cameras were set up near the stage, their lenses gleaming under the chandeliers, as the audience murmured in anticipation.


    Luca casually settled back into his chair but in an attentive posture.


    The stage lights cast a bright glow, illuminating the space while leaving his face partially shadowed as if to fully illustrate the solemnity of the moment.


    Luca had this feeling this might not be the last farewell occasion he''d attend. As his first, he decided to let the mood sink in since this was a legend of the sport.


    A tribute video played, showcasing Marco Rossi''s most iconic career moments¡ªvictories, close finishes, and legendary rivalries.


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    56x Podium Finishes


    Impressive wasn''t the word.


    Former teammates and rivals took turns on stage¡ªMarcellus Rodnick and Hank Rice¡ªand began sharing their heartfelt anecdotes and warm wishes for Rossi''s future. Even Mr. Cross, Jackson Racing Team Principal came on stage as well.


    Salle des ¨¦toiles was filled with applause as Rossi took the stage for his farewell speech.


    Marco Rossi, at 33, stood at a height of 5''10". His jet-black hair was styled neatly, complementing his clean-shaven face. With sharp features and intense brown eyes, he carried a confident yet approachable demeanor.


    Dressed in a neat navy suit that fit him perfectly, he exuded the charm of a celebrated legend in his prime.


    Luca listened closely as Marco Rossi began his speech, reflecting on the moments and people who had shaped his journey. His words resonated with gratitude and pride, a fitting tribute to his storied career.


    The speech was lengthy but engaging, and the press captured every moment, including the applause that erupted as he concluded.


    After escorting Sophia back from the women''s bathroom, Luca returned to their table. "Stay here," he instructed her, his tone firm but definitely not harsh.


    With a wine glass in hand and his other tucked casually in his pocket, he moved away from the table, scanning the crowd.


    Now, where did he go? Luca wondered, his sharp eyes scanning the room for Marco Rossi.


    He weaved through clusters of people, his sleek figure blending effortlessly into the elegant crowd. The soft hum of chatter and occasional laughter filled the hall, but Luca was focused.


    A group of men stood in a circle nearby, their laughter carrying that air of wealth and affluence. One of them spotted Luca and called out, "Hey! Hello?"


    Luca paused, his attention momentarily diverted. He turned slightly, acknowledging the group with a polite nod before his gaze drifted again. At the far right of the hall, he finally spotted Marco Rossi, engaged in conversation with a few individuals.


    Luca was about to make his way toward Rossi when the persistent calling from behind stopped him in his tracks.


    Turning to face the source, Luca spotted three men standing with an air of entitlement that practically seeped from their tailored suits.


    They looked every bit like club members¡ªpolished, smug, and far too comfortable. The heaviest among them, clearly the one who had called him, tilted his head in invitation.


    Luca walked up to them, keeping his expression neutral.


    "An F2 driver? What are you doing here?" the leanest of the trio asked, his voice carrying a sharp, cutting edge.


    Luca hesitated, caught off guard by the bluntness. Before he could even formulate a response, the heavier man let out a loud scoff.


    "Honestly, it''s revolting," he sneered. "Win a race or two, and suddenly they think they''ve earned a place among us."


    Luca''s brow furrowed, but his voice remained calm. "I don''t understand."


    "Aren''t you Luca Rennick?" the man pressed, his tone almost accusatory.


    "I am," Luca replied steadily. "And you are...?"


    The man waved a dismissive hand, barely concealing a grimace. "Spare me the introductions," he said, his voice dripping with disdain.


    As if on cue, a woman approached and leaned in close to whisper something to the man. He nodded curtly, then gestured at Luca with a flourish that bordered on theatrical.


    "Honey," he said with exaggerated emphasis, "this is Luca Rennick. You know, the F2 rat who''s been making a mess of things."


    The woman turned her attention to Luca, her eyes dragging over him from head to toe, slow and deliberate, as though he were something to be appraised and dismissed in the same breath.


    Her lips tightened, and she raised one perfectly arched brow, her expression hovering between amusement and disdain.


    Is this some kind of wealth bullying?


    "What''s the name of that their team again?" the fat man asked.


    "Trampos, I think," the third one answered, smirking. "Like elephants sitting at the branch of a tree."


    Luca gripped his wine glass tighter, unsure of what to do. He hadn''t been in this kind of situation before and he had no idea how to escape or respond to it.


    Perhaps silence? That might work. Philosophers say silence is the best answer for a fool.


    In this case¡ªfools. So Luca took a deliberate sip of his wine while they continued.


    "Look, lad," the fat man said, stepping closer and prodding Luca''s chest with a thick index finger. "How old are you? Seventeen?"


    Luca didn''t move, didn''t flinch. His height gave him an advantage, but intimidation wasn''t his style. Besides, these men could likely make life difficult in ways he couldn''t even imagine. He met the man''s gaze squarely and replied, "Nineteen."


    The fat man snorted. "Seventeen, nineteen, doesn''t matter. Formula 2 is for MEN. Formula 1 is for LEGENDS. If you think for one second¡ª"


    "What''s going on here?" a confident voice interjected, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a blade.


    "Not now, Lema?tre," the fat man said sharply, still holding Luca''s gaze, as if trying to burn a hole through him.


    But the newcomer, calm and composed, stepped in with an authority that couldn''t be ignored. Placing a firm hand on his friend''s shoulder, he gently pulled him back.


    Luca''s tension eased slightly as recognition set in. He remembered Mr. Lema?tre and they offered each other soft smiles.


    "Pardon my friend, Luca," Mr. Lema?tre said smoothly. "His name''s Chris¡ªowns a significant part of Velocit¨¤. So you understand?"


    Luca chuckled lightly, more out of relief than amusement. "Sure, sure, no problem. I understand I''ve been giving the junior team a hard time," he replied, turning to Chris. "And I don''t plan on stopping anytime soon. Sorry."


    Chris''s face darkened, but he held back, realizing that pushing further would only create a scene. He scoffed, muttering something under his breath, and backed down.


    Mr. Lema?tre gave Chris a pointed glance before turning back to Luca. "Who invited you?" he asked, gesturing for Luca to follow him toward the bar. "You should stick close to your host, not wander around and risk... misunderstandings."


    "I got an anonymous invite, I guess," Luca explained, falling into step beside him. "And I wasn''t wandering. I was trying to meet Mr. Rossi, but it seems..." He trailed off, stretching his neck to search the room for Marco Rossi. "It seems I''ll have to start looking for him all over again."


    "Don''t worry," Mr. Lema?tre reassured him with a confident nod. "Let me see if I can get him for you. I''m sure he hasn''t left yet¡ªwe''ve got less than two hours to go." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Luca standing by the bar.


    Luca sighed and glanced at his wristwatch.


    10:10 PM.


    Realizing his glass was empty, he waved at the bartender for a refill and slid into a barstool. His eyes drifted toward Sophia and Sara at their table. They seemed at ease, undisturbed, and for that, Luca was glad.


    "Thanks," he said softly to the bartender as the drink was placed in front of him. He took a slow sip, savoring the brief moment of calm.


    He couldn''t help but hope Mr. Lema?tre would succeed in finding Marco Rossi. Meeting a retiring legend, even briefly, felt like an opportunity to gain some insight¡ªor perhaps a touch of inspiration¡ªfor his own journey.


    As he sat, Luca''s gaze swept across the room. The people around him moved with an effortless elegance, a quiet confidence that seemed innate.


    A man in a pristine white tuxedo stood by the bar, speaking in soft tones to his beautiful companion, his hand resting lightly on a crystal tumbler. Across the hall, a woman in a floor-length emerald dress adjusted her jewelry. She was laughing delicately.


    Clusters of older men leaned together in one corner, sharing cigars and cracking wealthy jokes. There were younger crowd as well, sleek and polished, likely the children of the elders.


    A man in a velvet jacket scrolled on his phone while leaning on the bar''s counter, his attention was barely on the room, yet his presence exuded importance. Luca wondered how that was even possible.


    Luca took another sip, feeling like an observer in a world he wasn''t quite part of. He tried to shake the thought, reminding himself he belonged here, even if only for the night.


    Suddenly, his attention was pulled away as a scrawny young man in an impeccably tailored black suit strode toward him with surprising speed. The abruptness caught Luca off guard.


    The young man ordered a drink in a clipped tone, then slid onto the stool beside him. He turned his head sharply, fixing Luca with an intense stare.


    "Would you like to make it to F1?" he asked without hesitation.

 Chapter 186 Invitation To The Unknown

    The Following Day.Luca couldn''t help but chuckle as he reflected on his encounter with the scrawny young man from the bar. His name was Ollie. Luca wasn''t sure if it was short for Oliver or if "Ollie" was simply his actual name.


    Ollie had started the conversation with an unexpected question that both caught Luca off guard and piqued his curiosity. When Luca confirmed his ambition to make it to Formula 1, Ollie casually took a sip of his drink and replied, "Yup, that''s every Formula 2 driver''s dream, isn''t it?"


    Luca was stunned as he didn''t know what to make of the man''s words. To add to that, Ollie began asking about his journey, how he got to Trampos and how everything had been working out for him.


    Luca shared what he felt was appropriate for someone as unfamiliar with him as Ollie seemed to be. Despite his initial reservations, he found Ollie surprisingly approachable. The young man''s relaxed demeanor and occasional use of slang made the conversation flow naturally.


    Eager to know who the heck he really was, Luca shifted the inquiry to him and first asked if he was club or FIA-present on the night''s occasion.


    Judging by Ollie''s casual yet sharp appearance, Luca anticipated he might represent the Federation. However, considering the informal tone of their conversation, he leaned toward the possibility that Ollie was simply a club member.


    Ollie answered club, specifically Crown Hospitality club.


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    Luca then asked him why he was here and why he was asking him questions.


    Before Ollie could answer, two figures approached them, catching Luca''s attention. He turned his head to see none other than Mr. Lema?tre and Marco Rossi himself.


    Without hesitation, Luca quickly stood up, his heart racing as he extended his hand to greet the legend. Marco Rossi, with a warm smile, graciously shook Luca''s hand, while Mr. Lema?tre still introduced them formally.


    Marco knew who Trampos'' Luca Rennick was obviously, and he was delighted to meet the growing talent of the sport just as he was retiring. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Marco surprised Luca by recommending Jackson Racing, expressing his hope to one day see Luca driving a Jackson Racing Ferrari and continuing the team''s legacy of dominance.


    Luca absorbed every word with admiration, each one igniting hope for his future among the sport''s elite. He thanked Marco Rossi sincerely as the man announced his departure.


    Mr. Lema?tre offered to escort Marco out, leaving Luca to turn his attention back to Ollie. However, it seemed Ollie had his own plans to leave.


    Before Luca could speak, Ollie slid a sleek white card across the bar toward him. "Be on the yacht this Thursday," Ollie said curtly, then disappeared into the crowd without another word.


    Caught off guard, Luca picked up the card and examined it:


    ¡ªCrown Hospitality Club Presents


    An Exclusive Evening on the Crown Pearl


    Date: Thursday


    Time: 7:00 PM


    Location: Marina Pier 8¡ª


    Another invitation to a more exclusive gathering in France?


    Luca couldn''t quite wrap his head around what was happening. First Marco Rossi''s unexpected recommendation, now this mysterious yacht event. He slid the card into his pocket and headed off to find Sophia and Sara so they could leave together.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    After a successful Daily Routine with a self-driven gym session, Luca had fun with the team and narrated to them everything that had happened in the dinner night most especially Marco Rossi''s farewell speech which they had all watched.


    He didn''t leave out his encounter with the fat man, Charles.


    It seemed some of the crew knew who he was and the simple description "fat" was enough, especially when Luca told them that someone mentioned he was one of the owners of Bueseno Velocit¨¤.


    Mr. Charles Durand was a name that carried weight in the motorsport world, quite literally and figuratively.


    He was well known for his robust figure and sharp tongue and being one of the co-owners of Bueseno Velocit¨¤. They all said that he got a share of Velocit¨¤ when Velocit¨¤ had long established itself as a powerhouse in both Formula 1 and Formula 2. So, he really didn''t do much to bring Bueseno Velocit¨¤ to where it was today. But he might have some hand in maintaining Velocit¨¤ in what was today.


    His involvement in the team was not merely financial as Charles had a reputation for being deeply entrenched in the decision-making processes, from driver contracts to strategic partnerships.


    Perhaps, he was the reason Max hadn''t been promoted.


    Everyone continued to commend Luca for effectively rubbing his victory in Charles''s face, even days after the race on Saturday. It was becoming increasingly clear that Trampos might be the reason Velocit¨¤ Jnr would fail to clinch the F2 championship this season.


    To make matters worse for Velocit¨¤, their senior team faced an uphill battle in the upcoming Mega Prix, with their chances of success looking slim. If things continued on this trajectory, Mr. Charles and his fellow owners could be staring down the devastating reality of a trophy-less season in both their junior and senior teams.


    Luca wondered why Mr. Lema?tre was part of the same hospitality club as Charles. Weren''t they rivals, given the opposing teams they owned?


    Perhaps hospitality clubs weren''t exclusive to team owners but instead brought together influential individuals with shared interests beyond racing victories. After all, it wasn''t called the Velocit¨¤ Club or the Squadra Club¡ªit had an entirely different name, hinting at a broader purpose.


    Luca carried the same discussion to Mallow and Sara, this time, adding the yacht invitation Ollie had given him.


    "You are going, right? I mean, he started the conversation with something about Formula 1, and we really need connections here, Luca," Sara urged without hesitation.


    Luca glanced at Mallow.


    "Does the invitation say you can bring someone?" Mallow asked.


    "Yes," Luca replied. "One person¡ªmust be your spouse."


    Mallow grunted and sank into his chair. "Do you want to go?"


    Luca smiled. "I''m glad I got two suits."


    Luca could remember everything clearly as he stood before the yacht at 7:30 PM. He was early.


    The sky above had transitioned to a deep navy, with faint stars beginning to sparkle. A perfect atmosphere for the occasion, as a cool breeze brushed past the coast.


    Luca glanced up at the towering silhouette of fine metal polished to the taste of eccentricity, illuminated by string lights and soft golden spotlights.


    "A floating masterpiece," Luca muttered, wondering how much the yacht had cost the owner.


    Guests were already boarding, moving in uniform and in pairs¡ªdefinitely spouses.


    Still officially single, Luca would enter alone. Isabella wasn''t in France; otherwise, he would have definitely invited her to join him.


    Neither was she in the UK. She was in Italy.


    Mr. Schafer had been having serious legal problems concerning him and the FIA. Not only that, even Miles had decided to drop him from his personal team.


    She had followed her father to Milan to resolve the issue and settle the case.


    Luca sighed and glanced around, his eyes scanning the finely dressed crowd¡ªmen in tailored tuxedos with pocket squares so precise they looked machine-folded, women draped in flowing evening gowns glittering with gemstones that caught the light.


    He then put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the white card in case there was security demanding an invitation.


    Luca adjusted the lapels of his tailored, expensive suit and began walking toward the gangway, the ocean breeze playing with his neatly combed hair.

 Chapter 187 A Chassis Without A Heart

    Luca had no idea what to expect from his night on the yacht. He felt lost in the first minute of his arrival right after his invitation was audited and he was let in.But after that minute, his eyes began to adjust from foreignness to recognition at the people around him.


    He still felt lost, yes, in the sense that he was yet to meet his purpose on the yacht and not the fact that he was in the midst of people he didn''t know.


    Sixty percent of the faces he had seen so far, Luca sworn he had seen them elsewhere. Perhaps, in suites, grandstands, the tunnels or even the past dinner nights he had attended.


    Many of Tuesday night''s attendees were here as well for the Thursday night Crown Pearl. For example, Rodnick and his teammate were present, as was Hank Rice. Many regal gentlemen and women from the other night made it to the yacht.


    It no longer felt entirely foreign to Luca, though he remained on the periphery. Settling in seemed like the next logical step, so he began with simple courtesies.


    Greeting those near the entrance, he descended toward the ship''s promenade, the wide-open dock area that stretched beneath rows of warm deck lights. The promenade offered a sweeping view of the surrounding waters and was already alive with conversation and laughter.


    Luca heard an announcement that the yacht would be leaving the coast and heading into the sea for just an hour before returning back.


    He moved further, engaging in brief conversations with people who recognized him as F2''s Luca Rennick.


    Pausing by the rail, Luca glanced over the edge of the yacht, where the distant horizon blurred into the inky darkness of the sea.


    He took a deep breath, savoring the sight of the gentle waves kissing the hull of the yacht, the ocean stretching infinitely under the gentle glow of the evening lights. Adjusting his suit, Luca turned around, his shoes clicking against the polished wooden deck.


    As his gaze swept across the open space encircled by the railings, his eyes caught something in the middle of the promenade, elevated on a lustrous, glass-lit platform.


    "Wow," he murmured under his breath, his steps instinctually drawing him closer to the sight.


    There, like a jewel displayed in the heart of the yacht, sat a single-seater... an F1 car to be specific.


    Luca couldn''t believe it.


    The aerodynamic curves, the angles, sharpness, and the livery of the team all highlighted by the golden lights of the platform beneath and by the dock lights as well.


    The sight was surreal for Luca because it was an unconventional setting for a beast like that to be in. And it seemed the other guests didn''t find it fascinating as he did.


    "Velocit¨¤," Luca murmured as he stepped closer, his gaze locked on the machine. Surely it was fine to approach, right? he thought, taking a quick cautious glance around him.


    The F1 car was branded with Bueseno Velocit¨¤''s livery. Just like their junior team, the senior team''s major color was Royal blue. But Velocit¨¤ Jnr only featured blue and white, while the senior team featured blue, silver and gold accents. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca began circling the car, his hands resting casually in his pockets, yet his sharp eyes inspected every detail. The scent of fresh carbon fiber and new rubber lingered in the air, that smell every driver recognized.


    He couldn''t help but wonder if it was just a display piece, or could the beauty actually run?


    Luca knelt slightly, inspecting the undercarriage, and noticed the slight sheen of oil on a few exposed parts.


    That could mean two things. The first indicator could be that the engine hadn''t been drained for storage which meant the car roared not too long ago. It could also mean the engine was removed and the oil was a testimony of that.


    Luca rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he studied the car. "No race number," he muttered. "Is this just a dormant car?"


    He decided to request a full analysis from his system.


    [System cannot proceed with this request.]


    Luca frowned. "Explain."


    [System detects a valid chassis and associated features,] the response came.


    [However, it lacks a corresponding engine¡ªa vital component for providing a complete analysis to host.]


    Luca nodded. The engine was definitely removed. "But this car used a Red Bull engine, didn''t it?"


    [System is unable to confirm. The presence of the engine is required for accurate detection.]


    [However, System detects the chassis as <Red Bull>.]


    [System predicts the corresponding engine was likely a high-performance unit from <Red Bull> as well.]


    Luca knew for sure Bueseno Velocit¨¤ were with Red Bull just like how Squadra Corse were with Mercedes.


    In Formula 1, Dallara chassis paired with a Mercedes engine were nowhere to be seen, highlighting the exclusivity of the sport''s upper echelons. Only the top seven teams boasted unique combinations of chassis brands and engine suppliers.


    Ferrari, however, stood out as an exception. They not only powered their own cars but also provided engines to both Jackson Racing and Nevada HanSama¡ªtwo rival teams. How funny.


    As Luca stood before the F1 car, lost in thought, he remained unaware of the two figures approaching him from behind. A couple, seemingly eager to speak with him, stopped a few paces away.


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    "Luca Rennick," the man called out, drawing Luca''s attention.


    Startled, Luca spun around and met their gaze. He instinctively extended his hand as the man stepped forward to shake it. "Nice to see you in person," the man said warmly, introducing himself and his wife. "I''m Nate Addams, and this is my wife, Claire."


    As the handshake ended, Luca withdrew his hand, glancing between the two of them. There was a peculiar sense of familiarity in their features. His mind churned as he tried to place where he''d seen them before.


    "Addams?" Luca asked, his brow furrowing slightly. "As in Max Addams'' Addams?"


    Claire let out a warm, jovial laugh, wrapping her hand around her husband''s arm. "Yes, my dear, we''re Maxwell''s parents," she said, her eyes twinkling with pride.


    No wonder they looked so familiar to Luca. Although he had never seen them before, he''d raced against a face born from their union!


    "Ah, now I see it," Luca said, a smile breaking across his face. "No wonder you both looked so familiar."


    He expressed his surprise and complimented them, remarking on how young they looked. Claire laughed again, clearly charmed by the remark, while Nate gave a modest smile.


    "We saw you admiring the car," Mr. Addams said, his gaze shifting to the Red Bull on the platform. "A beautiful machine, isn''t it? Though, completely useless without one critical component."


    Luca turned to the car, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Actually, that could be said for all its components," he replied thoughtfully. "Wings, wheels, tires¡ªtake any of them away, and the engine you''re talking about wouldn''t mean much either."


    Both Nate and Claire nodded, impressed. "That''s a good point," Claire admitted with a soft laugh. "I suppose you''d know best. As a driver, you must really understand what''s vital and what''s not."


    Luca gave a modest shrug. "I guess so. But I still hope to get myself into an F1 car''s cockpit one day. Maybe the scale of importance for each part changes at that level."


    Nate tilted his head, studying Luca''s face. "Do you see yourself driving a Red Bull in the coming years?"


    Luca turned to them, his cheeks warming as he chuckled nervously. "Maybe? I mean, it''d be amazing, but... I think Red Bull is Max''s path, not mine."


    They all laughed together, breaking the momentary tension. Nate clapped Luca on the shoulder with a friendly grin. "You''ll both make it to the top, I''m sure of it. And when you do, you can keep crashing each other."


    Their laughter grew louder, and Luca felt a wave of relief. He had half-expected Max Addams'' parents to confront him, berating him for causing Max to crash in Solaris or for being a thorn in their son''s side throughout the season. Instead, they were surprisingly laid-back¡ªcool, even.


    "Max isn''t here?" Luca asked after the laughter subsided.


    Claire shook her head. "He declined his invitation," she said. "He''s still bummed about Saturday. But he did say he''d have his revenge on you."


    "..."


    Claire leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I''m not exaggerating," she added.


    "Excuse me, Mr. Luca Rennick?" a voice called from the side. The three of them turned to see a well-dressed butler¡ªor perhaps a sommelier¡ªstanding with impeccable posture.


    "Yes, that''s me," Luca replied.


    "Mr. Kingston would like to see you, sir. He has requested to meet all plus-ones aboard the yacht."


    A plus-one refers to a person who is invited as the guest of someone who received the main invitation.


    Mr. Kingston? That had to be the owner of the yacht.


    "If you''ll kindly follow me," the man said with a polite bow, gesturing toward one of the entrances.


    Claire gave Luca a reassuring smile and a small wave. "Don''t worry, we''ll catch up later," she said warmly.


    Luca quickly turned to shake Mr. Addams'' hand again before stepping away.


    Luca followed the butler, his steps steady but his chest tightening as he took a very, very deep breath.

 Chapter 188 Can You Drive A Beast?

    Luca followed the butler into the inner sanctum of the yacht, leaving behind the open-air deck with its glittering view of the sea. The air strangely grew cooler as they stepped through polished glass doors, revealing an interior designed to dazzle even the most regal guests.The floors were a perfect combination of polished dark mahogany that reflected the glow of chandeliers ahead and lining the corridors were rugs with patterns of royal blue and gold.


    They passed rooms with laughter and conversation, and Luca realized there were more people in the rooms of the yacht than just on the deck.


    The butler guy was quick with his steps and Luca had to adapt, following closely as he was led into what seemed to be the most opulent of the spaces in the yacht.


    Finally, the butler paused before a set of double doors carved with swirling patterns of waves. He pushed them open, and Luca stepped into a room that could only be described as indulgent.


    The strong stench of alcohol hit him first, clashing with the refined ambiance and fragrance of the yacht''s decor. Luca''s gaze traveled upward, taking in the vaulted ceiling with gold trim, the walls paneled in deep walnut, and the lush cream-colored carpet that muffled his steps.


    Every corner was designed to scream wealth, but it was the scene in the center of the room that seized his attention.


    There, a man, probably no older than thirty-five, was seated...no, slouched on a chaise lounge furniture. He was bare-chested, his chest rising and falling lazily as if he was entirely unaware of the world around him.


    The most interesting part of the scene were the six women, dressed in delicate lingerie and bikini, draped themselves over him like they were his accessories, giggling and cooing as they poured him another drink.


    The young man tilted his head back and drained his glass recklessly. He had definitely had too much to drink.


    The butler bowed slightly and announced Luca''s presence to Mr. Kingston, before retreating without another word. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mr. Kingston? Really?


    Luca had expected Mr. Kingston to be much older, not a young tycoon. For someone to own this yacht and have this influx of the mix of elderly and young attending, an older man seemed a better fit for Mr. Kingston.


    "Ugh, now who do we have here?" Daniel Kingston muttered, sitting up slightly from the tangle of women around him. His bleary eyes squinted at Luca, and then they widened with faint recognition. He let out a low chuckle. "Well, I''ll be damned. Who the fuck invited F2''s Rennick?"


    Luca shrugged lightly, keeping his composure. "I got an anonymous invite. It''s really nice to meet you, Mr. Kingston."


    Dan waved him off lazily, already leaning back into the sofa. "No, no. Call me Daniel¡ªor Dan. Everyone knew my pops as ''Mr. Kingston.'' Me? I''m carving out my own legend."


    Wealth-inheritor, Luca thought. Of course. Why didn''t I guess that earlier?


    "So," Luca continued, keeping his tone light, "now that you''ve seen me, am I valid to stay on this beautiful yacht of yours?"


    Dan smirked, the corners of his mouth curling with a drunken kind of admiration. He tilted his head back slightly, giving Luca a once-over. "Of course, of course," he replied casually. But as Luca turned to leave and head back to the paddock, Dan suddenly called out, his voice carrying an edge of excitement. "Hold on! You''re so valid, in fact, that I want you to lounge with me right here!" He gestured toward an unoccupied sofa nearby. "Take a seat, Luca."


    Luca hesitated briefly but finally sat down, adjusting his posture as he settled into the soft leather. Dan grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and lifted his glass.


    "Don''t ruin that suit the way you''re sitting," Dan muttered, giving him a quick glance. "I can tell it''s worth something. What is it? La Paome? Casa Reyes? Oldcorth?"


    "Casa Reyes," Luca answered, lifting his wrist to reveal the cufflinks that completed the ensemble.


    Dan''s grin widened, and his chuckle quickly turned into an uninhibited, wild laugh. "FORMULA 2''S LUCA RENNICK! RENNICK THE RECKLESS FUCKING MAVERICK! HAHA! You''re really out here, dressed like royalty, fitting in well above your rank. I like it!"


    "Thank you," Luca replied, choosing to take it as a compliment.


    Dan gestured grandly toward the six women still draped around him. "Would you like one of my girls?" he asked, as if offering Luca a prized trophy. "You look like you could use some company. After all, the invite did say to bring a companion¡ªmaybe a spouse?"


    Luca chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "It also didn''t say it was mandatory, Dan. They are beautiful, but no, thank you."


    Dan, noticing that Luca was starting to settle in and had even poured himself a drink, decided to test him again.


    "You know, Luca," Dan began, his drunken speech slurring slightly, "I wasn''t much of a fan of this so-called great sport when I was younger. My dad used to force me to sit through an hour and thirty minutes of you fuckers driving in circles over and over again."


    Luca took a long sip of his drink, watching as Dan leaned forward, pointing a lazy finger at him.


    "But that doesn''t mean I don''t give a shit about Velocit¨¤," Dan continued. "I own some very good stakes in it, and¡ªwell¡ªmy old man did succeed in making me feel our wins¡­ and our losses. And you, Rennick¡­ you''ve made me feel losses in our junior team countless times this season. And I do not like it one bit."


    Luca set his glass down, suppressing a smirk. The words were meant to be sharp, but coming from someone sprawled across a couch, half-drunk with women fawning over him, their impact was entirely dulled.


    Dan barely noticed. The women around him murmured soft reassurances, stroking his arm as if trying to calm him down.


    "I''m sorry to hear that, Dan," Luca said smoothly. "I can tell that plenty of people on this yacht affiliated with Velocit¨¤ probably feel the same way. But that''s the nature of the sport. I''m just doing my best to be exceptional in Formula 2." He took another sip before adding, "That way, I can leave your junior team alone and start giving your senior team hell instead."


    For some reason, Dan found that hilarious. He suddenly burst into laughter, sitting up properly for the first time and jabbing a finger at Luca.


    "YOU? HAHAHA! YOU THINK YOU''LL MAKE IT TO F1?" He kept laughing, shaking his head as if Luca had just told the biggest joke of the century. "What the hell gives you that confidence?! Who do you even have backing you? That old British hag?"


    Luca remained silent, staring at him.


    Dan snorted, swirling the liquor in his glass. "Look, Hawthorne is rich¡ªhell, probably richer than I am¡ªbut she has no clue what''s really going on here. And she''s about to get steamrolled. Your chances, my friend? Next to none."


    Luca shrugged, leaning back into the couch, his gaze wandering around the lavish yacht interior. Then, with a smile, he said, "Let''s say you were on my side. Would I still have no chance of making it to F1 next season?"


    Dan exhaled a slow, exaggerated sigh. "Luca, Luca, Luca," he muttered, shaking his head. "Luca Rennick, the reckless fucking maverick. Do you really think you''d excel in F1?" He scoffed. "We don''t drive Dallaras here, mate."


    "I''ve driven a Renault before. It seemed fine," Luca replied nonchalantly.


    Dan''s smirk widened. "Oh yeah? Did you drive it on a REAL competitive stage? On a real FIA-approved circuit?"


    "..."


    "With the new overhaul coming next season, you''ll find it even harder to drive an F1 machine," Dan muttered, swirling his drink. "That''s if we can even call them machines anymore."


    Luca''s brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"


    Dan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. His glazed-over eyes and slurred speech betrayed just how deep he was into his liquor. "Y''know¡­ as influential as I am, the Federation actually gave me a little preview of what''s gonna change next season¡­ and beyond."


    Luca''s toes twitched in his shoes. A ripple of unease mixed with curiosity ran through him. He straightened in his seat, glancing around briefly before leaning closer.


    If he could get anything useful out of this drunk tycoon, it might give him an edge¡ªan idea of what awaited him in Formula 1.


    "You can drive a machine, right, Luca?" Dan murmured, staring at him. "But can you drive a beast?"


    Luca''s frown deepened. "What?"


    Dan blinked sluggishly, his drunken state making it difficult for him to string his words together properly. Luca could tell he was on the verge of spilling something significant, so he pushed.


    "Come on, Dan. What''s changing?"


    Dan wavered. For a second, he actually seemed ready to talk¡ªuntil his sluggish brain caught up with his mouth. His expression twisted as realization hit. His eyes went wide.


    "Oh! You fucking brat!" he snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at Luca. "You''re trying to squeeze intel outta me, huh?! You sneaky little shit!"


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    Luca exhaled sharply, relaxing back on the sofa. What a disappointment, he thought, raising his hands in surrender.


    "YOU THINK YOU''RE SNEAKY?! HEY! EVERYONE!" He waved his arms dramatically. "LUCA RENNICK HERE WANTED TO EXTRACT TOP INTEL FROM MY DRUNKEN ASS!"


    Luca barely flinched. He expected a flood of people rushing in to drag him away, but instead, the room remained still. Guess Dan is known for yelling dumb shit, Luca thought.


    However, a single figure did step into the room.


    An older man, fairly tall and broad-shouldered, heavy but not fat, with a rough gray beard. His suit was crisp and black, tailored to perfection. There was an air of authority about him¡ªItalian, Luca guessed. His presence alone commanded attention.


    "Did you say Luca Rennick?" The man''s voice was deep, steady, and heavy with experience.


    Dan, still grinning drunkenly, bobbed his head and pointed lazily to the side, straight at innocent Luca.

 Chapter 189 One Foot In Ruin

    With respect, Luca stood up and offered the man his firmest, most professional handshake before starting to sit back down. But the man spoke before he could."I''m very glad you accepted my invitation."


    Finally, Luca found who invited him.


    Luca''s eyes sharpened slightly.


    "You were my inviter?" he asked, finally putting the pieces together.


    "Yes," the man confirmed with a small nod, gesturing for them to take their seats. He settled onto the sofa opposite Luca, then gave a brief nod of approval. "Very nice suit."


    Luca barely had time to respond before the man turned toward Dan and his company. "Would you like to do the introduction?"


    Dan, though undeniably drunk, wasn''t too far gone to forget who this man was. He turned to Luca with a smirk, pointing lazily at their guest.


    "This right here, Luca, is the Syndicate, the neutral man¡ªthe man no team dares call a rival," Dan announced, his words slurring slightly but carrying weight nonetheless. "This is Mr. Marchetti, the only man with stakes in more than five Formula teams. How incredible is that?"


    That was actually impressive.


    If Mr. Marchetti truly had stakes in more than five Formula teams, then he was likely a part-owner of at least three of the top five. A neutral man.


    How did he manage to pull that off? Dan had just listed the teams¡ªVelocit¨¤, Squadra, Haddock, Nordvind, Outback, Velox and so on.


    That kind of reach wasn''t just about money; it meant influence, the high power to sway decisions across different garages and paddocks.


    "If you wanna make it to F1, I''d bet he''s the best ass to kiss," Dan finished with the kind of crude remark he was known for.


    Mr. Marchetti chuckled as Luca thanked him once again for the invitation.


    With a simple gesture, Marchetti prompted a brief exchange with Dan, their words passing casually between them. Meanwhile, Luca studied him.


    Why would a man of such stature personally invite him to an exclusive yacht gathering?


    The question nagged at him, and after a moment''s hesitation, he finally voiced it¡ªcarefully, cautiously, wanting to understand.


    "Tell me, Luca," Marchetti began, his voice smooth but firm, "if you were a seasoned investor, a man with stakes in nearly every team on the grid, a guardian of balance in the sport¡­ and you saw this young Italian national, this 19-year-old Dallara driver carving out a name for himself in the feeder series¡ªsix podiums, four race wins¡ªwouldn''t your interest be piqued? Wouldn''t you want to see him in person?"


    Luca chuckled. "Even better, I''d make an effort to get his signature."


    The room filled with laughter, though soon, Luca and Marchetti noticed Dan''s was fading into something weak and drowsy. They turned to see him slowly dozing off, lulled by the half-naked women draped over him, gently easing him into sleep.


    Luca could tell from the slight downward curl of Marchetti''s lip that he disapproved of Dan''s indulgence. The man frowned at the sight before shifting his gaze back. "Well, that might be just why you''re here, Luca."


    He then began to speak of Luca''s season so far, detailing his debut P3 finish, his remarkable teamwork with Ansel in Monaco, the stunning three-race win streak from London to Barcelona, and his swift recovery from injury¡ªonly to return in spectacular fashion with a comeback victory in the French Grand Prix.


    "And this is why I can''t wrap my head around it," Marchetti continued, his tone sharpening. "Feats so incredible, no average driver could pull them off. You, Luca¡­ you are no average driver."


    Luca was honored by the words and gave a warm nod. "Thank you, sir."


    Then, without warning, Marchetti''s expression shifted¡ªhis eyes darkening, his posture straightening, his entire presence becoming severe.


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    "I don''t mean it as a compliment, Luca," he said. "I mean it as a reprimand."


    "Pardon?"


    "I''ve been watching you closely, Luca. Especially that five-minute window you have in almost every race, I think it''s what earned you an early nickname."


    Five-minute window? Luca thought, his brow slightly furrowing.


    Marchetti leaned in, his voice unwavering. "At first, I assumed it was down to the car''s performance. But then I remembered¡ªFormula 2 runs standardized machinery. Same tech, same chassis, same engines. Unlike Formula 1, there''s no major distinction between teams. The performance gaps should be marginal at best." He let that sink in before delivering his point. "So, there is no way Trampos is adjusting their chassis beyond regulation. No secret modifications, no hidden advantages."


    Marchetti''s gaze locked onto Luca''s. "It''s not the car, Luca. It''s you. You are ''adjusting'' yourself."


    A beat of silence.


    Luca blinked rapidly, struggling to process what was being implied. He was still trying to adapt to Marchetti''s sudden shift in demeanor, and now¡ªnow, the man was throwing huge words that took time to register.


    And when they did, Luca did not like them.


    The frown on his face was immediate. His jaw tensed, and he swallowed, steadying his breath before speaking, his voice quiet but firm.


    "...Are you saying I''m doping, sir?"


    Marchetti decided there was no point in dancing around the issue any longer. He gave a firm nod.


    Luca stared at him, barely able to process what was happening. Me? Accused of doping? His mind raced, and a single thought burned through the shock¡ªSync Buff. Was that what had led to this?


    "I, along with others who share the same suspicion, have already submitted an appeal to the FIA," Marchetti stated matter-of-factly. "You''ll be facing inquiries soon, along with a series of tests. I understand your ambition to reach F1, Luca, but taking shortcuts like this is not the right path."


    Luca felt heat rise in his chest, his pulse hammering in his ears. He wanted to lash out, but he forced himself to remain composed. His voice was steady, but the weight behind his words was unmistakable.


    "I am not doping, sir."


    Marchetti scoffed, reclining slightly as he crossed his legs. "Of course. Like any athlete ever admits it when accused," he muttered, watching Luca with something that almost resembled satisfaction. "Doping tests take time¡ªweeks, maybe longer. Just hope you''re processed quickly. Otherwise, anyone under investigation is barred from competing, and we both know what your next race is."


    Luca stiffened. He understood exactly what that meant.


    He wasn''t officially suspended, but as long as this accusation was unresolved, he wouldn''t be allowed to race. And with the Italian Mega Prix next¡ªthe biggest race of his career so far¡ªthis could destroy everything.


    How can he do this? Luca''s mind reeled as he studied Marchetti. Is he deliberately trying to take me out of competition for Round 12¡­ to hand Max and Velocit¨¤ the win?


    But that didn''t make sense. Hadn''t Dan just called Marchetti the neutral man in the game?


    "You''ve already submitted the appeal," Luca said, forcing himself to stay composed and take the information calmly. "So, you invited me here just to make a fool out of me?" S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Marchetti chuckled and waved off the accusation. "No, no, that would be childish of me. I just wanted you to know that you did catch the eye of the high-ups like me and it wasn''t just a simple Federation clerk that appealed your case," he said, retrieving his phone from his pocket. "Besides, hosting you tonight was also a favor. Few invitees have the privilege to bring others aboard, and Outback''s agents asked me to arrange this meeting."


    Luca watched as Marchetti made a call, informing someone of their location in the yacht.


    "Outback Performance?" he echoed.


    "Yes," Marchetti confirmed, setting his phone down. "Like I said, you''ve caught the eye of the big players. An F1 team is interested in signing you."


    That revelation should have been electrifying. It was everything Luca had worked toward, solid proof that his hardwork was recognized at the highest level.


    But the accusation had already drained him. Instead of feeling elated, he sat there, his mood soured by the weight of it all. How could he be accused of doping so early in his career, and at a crucial point?


    He remained silent, his fingers pressing into the armrest, until two men in sharp suits entered the lounge. Their presence alone confirmed their identity as Outback Performance''s agents.


    Luca stared at them as they took their seats across from him.


    He had no interest in talking. If they wanted a real discussion, they could contact Mallow. He was done with this exhausting circle of power plays and manipulation.


    Luca checked his time. 8:40


    Two minutes left, and he''d leave the yacht.

 Chapter 190 The Price Of Being The Best?

    Sophia and Mrs. Rennick returned to the UK the following day, and Luca and his team were now in plans on their own return to Berlin.Surprisingly, Sara and Mallow took the information about his accusation of doping casually, as if it was just one mere high school rumor that could be easily shoved away.


    They knew Luca. Perhaps that was why they were casual about it, and they were certain Luca never took any kind of performance-enhancing drug to boost his performance behind the wheel.


    It was a rare thing for a Formula driver or any kind of a racer to be indicted on the act of doping. This was because drivers seldom indulged in the act, because even if they enhanced their performance, could they easily do the same to their cars without spending a few hundred millions?


    That was why Luca''s scenario seemed just fit for it, and the FIA quickly took up the appeal since they rarely get such.


    Being in Formula 2, where all drivers were on the same stage of car performance, it was likely for a driver, someone young and ambitious like Luca, to take PEDs to have that edge.


    It sharpens the mind, enhances reaction times, and delays fatigue. And these were all crucial factors in a high-intensity motorsport like Formula racing.


    A driver on PEDs might exhibit an uncanny consistency in lap times, near-perfect tire management, and an almost inhuman ability to anticipate moves before they happen.


    Their endurance would remain high even in physically demanding conditions, such as during back-to-back qualifying sessions or grueling feature races in extreme weather conditions.


    And Luca here, had been exhibiting these actions. The FIA didn''t have to think twice, for they knew who he was already. Such an appeal wouldn''t make sense if a driver like John Roberts was accused.


    Unlike Sara and Mallow, Trampos did not take the accusation lightly¡ªespecially the management.


    Luca hadn''t even been the one to break the news. The Federation had already informed the team, likely through a direct call, and by the time he returned, plans were already in motion for an emergency meeting in Berlin.


    The entire facility was buzzing with discussion. Everyone understood the weight of being placed on the FIA''s examination list. Until Luca was cleared, he wouldn''t be allowed to race. It would be a kind of unofficial suspension that could derail his entire season.


    Most of the time, these tests took two weeks, and the next race, the Italian Mega Prix, would be in the coming five weeks.


    The team would need to get this all settled so they could concentrate on what mattered most, which was victory.


    "C''mon, I know Luca," McCauley said. "Because he drank like a beast on Saturday doesn''t mean he does the jaja. Who''d tell them?"


    Luca remained silent, gripping the water bottle in his hands. The accusation was ridiculous, but he knew how this worked. If the FIA found even the slightest trace of something questionable, his reputation would be permanently stained.


    Moritz leaned forward. "Look, this isn''t the first time a driver''s been wrongly accused. We''ll find a way through this. But, Luca¡­ are you absolutely certain you''ve never taken anything?"


    "Nope, I haven''t."


    He had always been meticulous about his diet, carefully monitoring everything that went into his body. There was no way he had taken anything close to a PED. This was all because of Sync Buff¡ªhis brief but explosive bursts of performance that probably looked suspicious on paper. But that didn''t matter now. If they found even the smallest trace of a "substance" in his system, it would only fuel the doubts.


    If he got through this, Luca swore he''d take the strictness of his diet to an entirely new level.


    McCauley exhaled, shaking his head. "Gaffer says our medical team is gonna run tests on you first. We need to know what we''re dealing with before the Federation does."


    Dennis nodded. "Smart move. If there''s even a hint of something off, we need to get ahead of it."


    "And if there''s nothing?" another crew member asked.


    "Then we prove this is all bullshit and make them regret wasting our time."


    Just as Luca had suspected, Trampos'' team shared the same concern that Marchetti''s appeal wasn''t just about a doping accusation alone but was also a strategic move to keep Luca off the grid for the 12th and final round.


    With him out of the picture, Max and Velocit¨¤ Jr. would have a clear shot at the championship.


    "They don''t even need proof¡ªjust dragging this out long enough means Luca can''t race."


    "If the FIA takes their sweet time with this, we''re screwed." Experience new stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    "We''re not screwed yet," Moritz said firmly. "First things first: we run our own tests. If our medical team clears you, we can push back before the FIA even gets the chance to make this worse."


    Luca leaned back, rubbing his face. "And if they don''t?"


    Moritz held his gaze. "Didn''t you just tell us you''ve never taken anything?"


    Luca sighed. "Consciously? No. Unconsciously? I don''t know. What if someone slipped something into my drink? I was on a yacht full of Velocit¨¤ people¡ªowners, investors, all of them. It''s possible, right?"


    Silence settled over the room as the weight of his words sank in.


    McCauley scoffed. "Damn right, it''s possible. If they can''t beat you on track, they''ll beat you off it. That''s how this game works."


    "Quit the conspiracy guys, it didn''t happen," Dennis muttered. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca replayed the last two nights in his mind, trying to pinpoint any moment when something could''ve been slipped into his drink. He had only taken two drinks outside his table¡ªone directly from the bartender while standing with Ollie, and another at Dan''s den.


    The bartender scenario seemed unlikely as no one would have expected him to leave his table just to get a drink at the bar. As for Dan''s place, Dan had been drinking from the same bottle, so that ruled out any foul play there.


    Still, Luca couldn''t shake the unease. Even the smallest trace of a substance could ruin everything.


    Luca wondered if his system could help. It was the Formula 1 System after all and as a sport system, it should know a thing about doping and all that.


    If it had data on his health, it should be able to detect anything foreign in his body.


    System display, he commanded internally while the team continued debating around him.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    Luca barely blinked as he asked, "System, can you check if I have any trace of a hard drug, an unknown substance, or a PED in my system?"


    [Detecting Host...]


    [... successfully detected!]


    [Ding!]


    Luca tensed.


    [System detects an improper balance of substances within host in the last 72 hours.]


    His heart pounded. And what''s that?


    [System detects excessive <alcohol> alone.]


    "..."


    [System has concluded detection.]


    [Results: 87% increase in alcohol presence.]


    Luca sighed deeply. He had taken a lot of alcohol in the past days, so this was reasonable.


    He was actually clean. No spike, no drugging. Sync Buff was really the suspicion alone.

 Chapter 191 Back Home

    Their stay in France had been the longest of the season so far, stretching beyond the usual schedule. But now, it was time to leave.Luca had the advantage of traveling back to Berlin ahead of the team, thanks to his new routine which was flying on a private Hawthorne jet with Sara, Mallow, and the Hawthorne agents.


    The evening before, he packed up his things in his suite, making sure nothing was left behind. After double-checking, he headed deep into the facility, where most of the team was still busy wrapping up final logistics for the trip back.


    Luca spoke to them, saying his goodbye and how they''d reunite in Berlin the following day.


    "Take care, man," McCauley said, patting his back.


    The night passed quickly as Sara and Mallow didn''t make a big deal out of the situation, treating it like any other evening, which helped ease Luca''s mind against everything that was unfolding.


    By dawn, they arrived at the airport, moving swiftly through the private terminal before boarding the Hawthorne jet. As the engines roared to life, Luca leaned back in his seat and exhaled, allowing a moment of calm to settle over him.


    Before takeoff, he pulled out his phone to check for any missed calls or messages from the past few days. He responded to a few and marked others to return once he was back in Berlin.


    One message, however, dragged his mind back to reality.


    It was from Harry, a break from their usual back-and-forth racing topics.


    "Ay, bro (skull emoji), what the heck are they saying about you? (skull emoji)."


    Luca sighed, locking his phone before sliding it into the seat pocket in front of him. He reached into his duffel bag for his MP3 player and earpiece, quickly connecting them. As he placed the buds in his ears, he glanced around the cabin.


    Sara was occupied with her tablet, likely handling his business. Mallow, arms folded, had already dozed off. The four Hawthorne officials sat farther away, engaged in quiet conversation.


    Luca turned up the volume and leaned back, letting the music drown out his thoughts as the plane began its ascent.


    Five minutes later, the jet lifted smoothly off the runway, climbing into the morning sky. The soft hum of the engines filled the cabin as they left France behind, heading straight for Berlin.


    After about an hour and fifty minutes in the air, the captain announced their imminent arrival at Berlin Brandenburg Airport. Luca had removed his earpiece earlier and was alert enough to catch the announcement promptly. Noticing Mallow still asleep, he gently tapped him awake.


    As the jet taxied to a stop, the cabin crew swiftly prepared for disembarkation. Luca unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his duffel bag, stretching as he stood. Sara was already on her phone, while the Hawthorne officials exchanged a few words among themselves.


    Descending the steps, Luca nodded with relief after taking in a deep breath of the air he was now familiar with.


    Their private shuttles were already waiting near the tarmac, so without delay, they grabbed all their luggage and climbed into the black vehicles.


    The small convoy pulled away smoothly, heading toward their respective destinations. For Luca, he was heading straight to Dalhem, heading straight home.


    The ride was quiet, the low hum of the engine blending with the occasional buzz of notifications from Sara''s phone. Mallow, seated up front, was going through his own messages when he suddenly spoke up.


    "I got a zoom meeting in an hour with you-know-who," he said to Luca. "We''ll speak later."


    Luca gave him a nod. "No problem."


    ''You-know-who'' was Outback Performance''s agents, and after getting Mallow''s contact, they were about to hold their first indirect discussion with Luca about his potential move to their team.


    The Hawthorne official slowed the car to a stop in front of the house he was directed to in the neighbourhood¡ªLuca''s house.


    Sara stepped out first while Luca followed, the door clicking shut and the car pulling away, leaving the two in the quiet morning air.


    Luca took a quick look around his quiet street before his eyes landed on the side of the gate, where a neatly folded newspaper rested. Experience tales at My Virtual Library Empire


    Every day, a fresh newspaper was delivered, and if the vendor noticed the previous one hadn''t been taken, he''d remove it and replace it with the latest edition. Since Luca had been away in France for nearly a week, there was only one newspaper there¡ªtoday''s.


    He picked it up, tucking it under his arm, then reached for his key. With a smooth turn, he unlocked the gate and rolled it open, stepping inside.


    Luca paused, taking in the sight of his lawn. Some loose oak and fir leaves had scattered across the grass. It wasn''t much, but he knew it would take time to rake them up.


    He made a mental note to deal with it over the course of the week or even today if possible. "Do you think I should consider getting cleaners?" he asked, turning to Sara, who was just entering with her three bags in tow.


    "Yes, absolutely," she replied with a sigh. "Even a gateman¡ªugh, help me with this."


    Luca hurried to assist her, taking the bags from her hands. "What are you doing here? You should''ve gone home straight from the airport."


    Sara rolled her eyes as she walked toward the front door, pulling out her own set of keys. "Can you compare the luxury of my own place to this? I can''t even cook that much, Luca. I thought that was obvious by now. Come on, you''ll cook something let''s eat, and I''ll head out by evening."


    Luca sighed, managing to carry all the bags at once and roll them inside the house.


    Maybe she had a point. He did need some cleaners, and perhaps even a reliable gateman. This house was too big for him to handle alone, especially with the constant travel demands of being a Formula driver.


    He did want to test himself, though. How long could he keep up without extra help? He was living alone, with no pets to take care of, and the only real tasks left were things like raking the lawn for example.


    Once Luca settled in and unpacked his things, he took a refreshing shower and dressed in some comfortable housewear¡ªperfect for a person like him. Afterward, he headed to the kitchen, tidied up the space, and started boiling some rice, throwing together a quick meal.


    While the rice simmered, Luca moved to the living room, grabbed the newspaper he had placed on the side table, and unfolded it.


    It had been a while since he read one, and he needed to catch up on what was happening, both in the country and, of course, in the world of motorsport.


    The sports section caught Luca''s attention first, with the headline highlighting Antonio Luigi''s win in France. Just beneath it, in the sub-headline, was mention of Luca''s own victory.


    Luca turned to the designated page, the warm smell of boiled rice wafting in from the kitchen as he left the door open.


    He scoffed, skimming through Luigi''s article before moving on to his own.


    "UNAUFHALTBAR TRAMPOS! LUCA RENNICK WILL BE CHAMPION!" the bold headline proclaimed across the middle of the page, just after Luigi''s feature.


    The article continued:


    "LUCA STRIKES MAX FOR VICTORY! TWENTY FIVE POINTS FOR LUCA, TWENTY FIVE POINTS FOR TRAMPOS!" sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The subheading then read:


    "RECKLESS DRIVING OR NECESSARY DRIVING?!"


    Luca began reading, and it was all about his magnificent win in Le Castellet after dethroning Max by forcing him into a DNF at a very dangerous part of the track.


    "MAX VELOCIT¨¤ JNR LOSES GROUND: LUCA CLAIMS TOP SPOT WITH STYLE"


    The newspaper also displayed the drivers'' standings to inform the audience that the championship race was too tight and up for grabs by any of the drivers.


    One thing Luca didn''t see was the doping accusation against him.


    Perhaps it had yet to hit the notice of the press. And when it did, Luca wasn''t sure how Germany would react to the predicament.


    Luca rose to his feet to resume his cooking.

 Chapter 192 Sync Buff Dilemma 1

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...][Host should begin Daily Routine]


    Luca woke up feeling well-rested after a solid seven-hour sleep, stretching in his pajamas as the morning birds chirped and sang from their nests in the trees around his compound.


    It was one of these mornings that were dull yet bright at the same time.


    October was gradually coming to an end, and soon, November would usher in a new climate season¡ªthe final stretch of the motorsport season.


    Still under Advanced Bundle, Luca knew exactly what came next after waking up. He swung his legs out of bed and stood up, giving his body another quick stretch before heading toward the bathroom.


    The bright, clean tiles reflected the early morning light as he reached for his toothbrush, scrubbing away the taste of sleep. He splashed cold water on his face, letting the chill jolt him fully awake.


    Afterward, he walked back across the room toward his closet and changed into cargo shorts and a snug gym top. As he left his room, he switched on the lights in essential spots like the hallway before heading downstairs.


    Luca briefly wondered what would happen if he ever got robbed. His neighborhood had tight security, but that didn''t mean someone from the inside couldn''t attempt something.


    Standing in the center of the living room, he noted just how big the house was¡ªso big that he wouldn''t even know if something was happening upstairs or in the backyard.


    Maybe a security dog? They didn''t require as much maintenance or attention as a regular pet dog, right?


    Yet again, Luca decided to test himself and see how long he could last before truly needing all these extra layers of assistance.


    Stepping outside, he strode across the lawn, which was in desperate need of raking, and made his way to the gate. Briefly rolling it open, he grabbed his daily newspaper before heading back inside.


    He placed the newspaper on the couch and went upstairs again, this time toward the gym. Today, he''d be working out alone¡ªno Amir to help him.


    Luca considered launching a session from his system but felt impatient. He wanted to wrap up his gym time quickly and start raking the yard.


    For some reason, the thought of raking had lingered in his mind all evening and even into his sleep. Not that he was particularly excited about the labor itself, but rather, he was curious about the experience that came with it.


    He believed that raking wasn''t just about clearing leaves, that it was almost like a ritual, a process that allowed thoughts to drift and the mind to breathe.


    Though he had never raked before, he imagined there was something meditative about it, especially the repeated strokes and the way the leaves gathered into neat piles.


    Luca grabbed a water bottle and took a few gulps, then walked over to the gym windows. The morning sun was streaming through, bathing the room in a soft golden light.


    The birds were still chirping, fluttering around and singing, while the trees swayed gently. Luca hoped they''d keep it up until he was done in the gym.


    When he started raking, he wanted the rhythm of his movements to align with the natural sounds around him.


    After drinking, he waited a moment before launching into his usual daily exercises¡ªpushing his muscles, flexing his bones, and keeping his heart racing.


    From power burpees to split squats, followed by full yoga and deep stretches, Luca''s mind was just as active as his body.


    As he worked through his routine, he kept thinking about the doping accusations. If things weren''t handled properly, they could cause serious problems for him.


    Before Sara left, he asked her to buy him some detox supplements¡ªjust in case. Mr. Ammermann had ordered it.


    Luca knew he hadn''t doped, but accusations like this could spiral out of control fast. Even though his system had confirmed he was clean, paranoia crept in. What if some unknown factor¡ªcontaminated supplements, tainted food, or something entirely unexpected¡ªtriggered a false positive? It wasn''t unheard of in sports.


    Detox supplements are like masking agents used to flush out anything from the system. Some might use activated charcoal, known for absorbing toxins, while others could take excessive amounts of vitamin C or niacin, which were rumored to accelerate metabolism and cleanse the bloodstream.


    Luca would take the supplements in a measured amount¡ªjust enough that they wouldn''t be detected during a scan, while also working to eliminate any substance he might have unknowingly ingested.


    He sighed, sitting on a bench as he wrapped up his exercises. He dried his face with a towel, but his mind kept racing.


    Tomorrow, he''d report to headquarters for a meeting with the designated FIA officials handling the matter, along with his own team management. After that, he''d head to the clinics for Trampos'' own test. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This suspicion relied mostly on the fact about him moving at the top speed of a SomberCore without making mistakes, falling victim to a spinout or stopping out of exhaustion.


    In better words, Sync Buff.


    If he tested negative and was cleared of doping, would he still keep using Sync Buff and let the suspicion linger? Stay tuned to My Virtual Library Empire


    Luca wouldn''t have cared, because there was no way anyone could ever suspect he had a system, let alone trace the exact source of this buff.


    So, it would just be doping accusation after doping accusation.


    And in the worst-case scenario, they''d start throwing enhancement accusations at Trampos, claiming the team had modified their Dallaras beyond F2 regulation.


    Even then, Luca would have brushed it off. It wouldn''t affect his driving, and they would never¡ªnever¡ªbe able to find him guilty of anything.


    But when he considered the bigger picture¡ªthe societal fallout, the damage to his name, and most of all, the temporary suspension from competition¡ªhe knew he needed a way out.


    If he couldn''t clear his name before the Italian Mega Prix, then he, Trampos, the entire Germany and its fans would be screwed.


    Should he really keep using Sync Buff?

 Chapter 193 Sync Buff Dilemma 2

    Ceasing the use of Sync Buff would be a massive setback for Luca, considering that 70% of his race wins and podium finishes were thanks to this incredible feature.He wasn''t sure if stopping it altogether was a good idea.


    Then again, continuing to use it as it was would also be a problem, because people were already growing suspicious of its eerie, almost predictable four to five-minute duration.


    Come to think of it, maybe the timing was exactly what had caught Mr. Marchetti and his counterparts'' attention. After two, three, four, even five instances of Sync Buff activation, Luca could now see how they had started keeping track, waiting for the exact moment he would suddenly go wild on track and then time it.


    If that was the case, then instead of completely abandoning Sync Buff, maybe he just needed to adjust the timing.


    With a clearer understanding of the situation, Luca sat up, thinking through possible ways to deal with Sync Buff''s predictability.


    Luca wondered if he could find a way to pause Sync Buff midway and then resume it later when needed.


    Or if he could simply cut it off anytime he wanted, instead of always running the full five-minute duration.


    Or maybe, just maybe, he could have control over the exact duration himself, setting it to however long he needed at any given moment.


    That would be ideal. It would eliminate any consistent timing that could make people suspicious.


    But all of this depended entirely on how his system was built, its functions, and whether it even allowed such flexibility.


    Luca sighed, leaning back against the couch. The system was the one generating Sync Buff in the first place. If there was a solution, it would have to come from there.


    With that in mind, he made his decision.


    "System, display," he commanded, staring straight ahead.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Welcome, host.]


    "Thanks," Luca muttered. "System, I need to report an issue."


    [Proceed, host!]


    "Are you aware of what doping is?"


    [Doping: The use of banned performance-enhancing substances or methods to gain an unfair advantage in motorsports. Formula 1 regulations strictly prohibit doping to ensure fair competition and driver safety.]


    "Great. Exactly."


    "Remember when we briefly discussed the possibility of Sync Buff drawing unwanted attention? Well, now the worst has happened¡ªI''ve been accused of doping."


    [That is unfortunate to hear, host.]


    [Do not fret, host. System detects zero external substances in your body that could implicate you!]


    [System assures host that he will test negative and be cleared for competition as soon as possible!]


    Luca exhaled sharply. "I know that. But we need to do something about Sync Buff to prevent future accusations and investigations. The five-minute window is becoming predictable, and that''s exactly what''s raising suspicion."


    A brief pause.


    [Certainly, host.]


    [System confirms that the duration of Sync Buff is now consistent, structured, and identifiable.]


    "Yeah, and that''s the problem. Can we do anything about it to prevent further issues?"


    [Certainly, host.]


    [Analyzing and assessing...]


    [...Successfully assessed.]


    [Troubleshooting result: Sync Buff is currently operating on a fixed-duration activation cycle, making its usage pattern identifiable.]


    [Proposed Solutions:


    ¡ªSegmented Buff Mode: Allows host to activate Sync Buff in smaller bursts rather than a continuous five-minute span.


    ¡ªManual Override: Host gains the ability to manually adjust or interrupt Sync Buff''s activation time as needed.


    ¡ªRandomized Duration Window: Sync Buff duration will fluctuate unpredictably within a set range, making it harder to track.] Find exclusive stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    "I see," Luca whispered, studying the screen. "Which do you think is the best solution?"


    [System would assess their merits and demerits]


    [Analyzing and assessing...]


    [...Successfully assessed.]


    [SEGMENTED BUFF MODE: (Merits)


    ¡ªAllows host to use Sync Buff in shorter bursts, making it less predictable.


    ¡ªReduces the risk of being tracked and timed by competitors or officials.


    ¡ªProvides flexibility in critical race moments rather than a fixed five-minute span.]


    [SEGMENTED BUFF MODE: (Demerits)


    ¡ªRequires strategic planning to avoid wasting activation time.


    ¡ªMight result in ineffective bursts if activated at the wrong moment.


    ¡ªCould still raise suspicion if bursts occur too frequently or conveniently.]


    "Alright," Luca said, nodding to the information. "The next?"


    [MANUAL OVERRIDE: (Merits)


    ¡ªGrants host full control over Sync Buff duration and timing.


    ¡ªAllows emergency deactivation if an investigation or suspicion arises.


    ¡ªOffers strategic adaptability, making usage more dynamic.]


    [MANUAL OVERRIDE: (Demerits)


    ¡ªRequires careful timing, adding another layer of focus during races.


    ¡ªCould lead to mismanagement if deactivated too soon or too late.


    ¡ªMay still raise questions if the system detects inconsistencies in usage.]


    "Hmm," Luca mused. This solution seemed promising, yet its drawbacks felt more demanding than the first.


    Not only would he have to manually select the duration within a 1-second to 5-minute range, but he''d also need to plan and calculate precisely when to activate it¡ªan added mental load during an already intense race.


    Worse still, if the Sync Buff didn''t unfold as intended¡ªeither running out too soon or lasting longer than needed¡ªhe could end up sabotaging his own performance, leaving him frustrated, resenting and second-guessing himself.


    [RANDOMIZED DURATION WINDOW: (Merits)


    ¡ªEnsures Sync Buff does not last the same duration every time, making it harder to detect.


    ¡ªMakes performance shifts feel more natural and unpredictable.


    ¡ªTotally reduces suspicion since there''s no consistent five-minute span to track.]


    [RANDOMIZED DURATION WINDOW: (Demerits)


    ¡ªCould require adaptation to the unexpected time shuffled for host.]


    Luca wasn''t sure about this one, but the fact it had one demerit simply said it was a green flag for him.


    He wondered how it''d be like; the system randomly selecting the duration whenever he made Sync Buff, just to create variation and prevent the suspicion.


    "What''s your take, system?" he asked.


    [All solutions carry their own weight. Segmented Buff mode is the safest, allowing the host to split his bursts and reduce the chance of suspicion. However, Sync Buff is meant for quick use, designed to maintain a smooth and efficient connection between host and system.]


    [Cutting the duration as needed could lead to mistakes¡ªlike miscalculating or forgetting about unused segments¡ªputting unnecessary blame on both host and system for any resulting failure.]


    "That''s a really smart point. I guess you''re right. What about the last one? I''m not keen on the second option."


    [The Randomized Duration Window is the most unpredictable, effectively eliminating suspicion by keeping opponents and investigators guessing. System would randomly shuffle the duration between 1 minute and 5 minutes for variety.]


    [However, this also adds an element of uncertainty, potentially disrupting the host''s strategy. But if host approaches the duration as if it were the normal Sync Buff time, he could excel without regretting the outcome, since system would determine the duration, not host.]


    "So, I guess it''s between the first and the third?"


    [Yes, host. Should system delve further in explaining] S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Don''t worry, you''ve explained enough," Luca said, rubbing his chin.


    He really liked the fact about Segmented Buff Mode that he could divide the Sync Buff''s duration into bits and use them one by one.


    But his system was right about it leading to mistakes and disappointment if it didn''t play out as planned. Additionally, if he still had a segment unused, and he kept on gaining points from skills, they''d all go to waste since logically, the Sync Bar was yet to be emptied.


    With this, Luca decided he''d go for Randomized Duration Window. It felt ideal, though the system could choose 2 mins or less for the duration after shuffling, he believed he could still manage.


    Making sure investigations like this won''t happen again was top priority.


    "I choose the third."


    [Randomized Duration Window selected!]


    [Ding!]


    [System would embed it as the Reward for today''s Daily Quest]


    "Oh, thanks. So, when I complete today''s Daily Quest, I''ll get it?"


    [Yes, host.]


    Satisfied that he had found a solution to Sync Buff''s issue, Luca rose to his feet. He neatly arranged the gym equipment he had used before leaving for his room to take a bath and move on with his day.


    After showering, he applied his cream and took his usual supplements before slipping into comfortable homewear and draping a light homecoat over himself.


    Without wasting time, he hurried downstairs, stepped out into the backyard, and made his way to the tool shed. There, he grabbed a pair of gloves, a large bin, and a sturdy rake before heading to the front lawn.


    Just as he had hoped, the morning still held its gentle coolness. The sun had yet to climb too high, and birds continued their cheerful chirping in the trees.


    Luca took a moment to scan the yard, estimating how long the task might take. Then, with a small nod to himself, he dropped the bin, slipped on his gloves, gripped the rake''s handle, and got to work.

 Chapter 194 Lab Tests

    Find adventures on My Virtual Library Empire[Ding!]


    [Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!]


    [You have been rewarded with (1) takeaway:


    ¡ª<Randomized Duration Window> feature ]


    [Congratulations, host]


    ---------


    The following day was scheduled to address head on the doping accusation on Trampos'' star driver Luca Rennick.


    The FIA would send representatives to lay the matter to Trampos and Luca himself, also providing the list and sequence of activities leading to the final test that would determine if he did dope or not.


    Luca would get to the headquarters early and sit for their own private tests by Mr. Ammermann and his crew. Afterwards, he''d listen to the Federation''s proceedings and know what''s next on their jurisdiction.


    After reading today''s own newspaper, Luca lowered the paper with a small frown. He closed and folded it, walking to the side of the living room before disposing it off in a specific container for old newspapers prepped for recycling.


    Today''s news had a special headline. "SPORTS INTEGRITY BREACH."


    Nothing intrigued the press more than delivering information about a cheating scandal involving illicit enhancement¡ªespecially when it involved a rising star, someone who was just as quick to face criticism as he was to receive praise.


    Luca disliked the way they over-exaggerated everything, using more impactful, far-fetched adjectives just to spice up the story and hook their audience. Now, with the way it was worded, it almost felt like he had actually taken illegal enhancements "to better his shot at F1," just as they claimed.


    One thing Luca hoped the media wasn''t exaggerating was the fan reaction to the enhancement controversy and the growing demand for a substance screening to clear his name and remove him from the racing suspension list.


    The news outlet reported that many Germans weren''t taking the accusation well, finding the timing suspicious¡ªalmost as if the FIA itself had orchestrated the situation to keep Luca out of the Italian Mega Prix.


    Reports indicated that on social media, German users had flooded FIA''s posts, calling the Federation "corrupt," "opportunistic frauds," and "power-hungry dictators." Insults poured in, violating what was meant to be a neutral space¡ªjust 12 hours after Luca''s Anti-Doping Scrutiny was announced.


    It wasn''t hard to see why they were enraged.


    This was Trampos'' first real shot at a championship, a historic moment that would indirectly represent the country. And with Luca playing a crucial role in what was set to be a decisive finale, they weren''t about to let anything abruptly strip it away from them.


    Many already feared that the Federation would deliberately drag out the scrutiny, forcing Luca to watch the Italian Mega Prix from the paddock instead of competing. This was the fans'' way of making it clear that they weren''t going to let it slide.


    Luca left home with a black mask covering his face, adjusting it slightly as he stepped into the car. He was beginning to understand why public security measures were necessary.


    With a black mask, he''d look like any other young German male in the crowd if he happened to step out of the car in public.


    Luca arrived early at the headquarters, greeted everyone and went straight to the medical department building.


    Caitlyn and her other nurses welcomed Luca in without delay as they got ready to begin.


    Dr. Ammermann turned from the counter, adjusting his glasses as he studied Luca. He reminded him of the importance of this test, emphasizing that their internal screening needed to be just as rigorous¡ªif not more¡ªthan the FIA''s. If they could preempt the official results, they would have an advantage.


    Caitlyn pulled on a fresh pair of latex gloves, explaining that they would begin with a urine sample. Handing him a sealed sterile collection cup, she pointed toward the clinic''s restroom. Luca took it without a word and disappeared behind the door.


    A minute later, he returned, placing the container in her outstretched hands. She immediately sealed and labeled it before storing it in a transport case for analysis.


    The next was blood sample test.


    This would a provide more precise, real-time snapshot of substances in the system. Blood sample test was particularly used to detect substances which might not always appear in urine tests.


    Caitlyn carefully snipped a small section of Luca''s hair from the root when it was time for the hair follicle analysis.


    Unlike urine and blood, hair testing would provide a long-term record of drug use, sometimes up to 90 days.


    It is particularly effective for detecting steroids, amphetamines, and anabolic agents that may have been taken weeks before a race.


    It''d likely be the most scrutinized test the FIA would make in Luca''s case.


    After sealing the hair in a bag and labelling it, Mr. Ammermann asked Luca to lay on the bed whilst he conducted a physical evaluation.


    For example, standard checks like heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels, would hint at the possibility of any substance being taken.


    Mr. Ammermann confirmed everything fell within the normal range and he assured Luca that the samples would be sent to their independent lab immediately. If anything questionable surfaced, they would know before the Federation did.


    Luca exhaled, finally relaxing a bit as he sat up.


    "How long until we get the results?"


    "For urine and blood? Within 24 hours. Hair will take longer¡ªmaybe a few days. But if everything comes back clean, we''ll have enough leverage to counter any Federation claims before they make a ruling."


    Luca nodded in acknowledgment, buttoning up his shirt before leaving the clinic and heading toward the main buildings.


    The board was already assembled, preparing for the arrival of the Federation representatives. Every department head, including Mr. Ammermann himself, would be present at the table, ready to be briefed on the situation. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As Luca entered and greeted them, he immediately noticed the somber atmosphere that had settled over Trampos. A tension hung in the air, heavier than he had expected. He had hoped that the dark cloud of uncertainty had passed after Ansel''s ordeal, but it was clear that this new crisis had revived old anxieties.


    What he didn''t realize was just how deeply troubled the board was. The doping accusations weren''t just an attack on his career¡ªthey threatened Trampos'' entire championship campaign. If the situation dragged on, their title hopes could be compromised.


    And just as Luca''s eligibility for the Italian Mega Prix was looking uncertain, his agent, Mallow, had informed the board that he had started entertaining offers from F1 teams regarding Luca''s move to the top division.

 Chapter 195 Opportunity And Scrutiny

    Outback Performance, the only Australian Formula 1 team currently in the competition, had been the country''s sole representative for generations now.Just like their unique nationality, their name was outstandingly unique as well, reflecting the vast and tough terrain of the country.


    ''Performance''¡ªsuch a distinguished last name¡ªwas rarely used throughout all divisions, which inadvertently turned into one of their nicknames.


    1x Team World Champions and 3x Top 5 Finishers, Outback Performance really outdid themselves in the last generation, but not this one.


    Being the first team to host a Red Bull engine and chassis, it was reasonable their early days were impressive. But as Bueseno Velocit¨¤ became team number 2 under the provisions of Red Bull, their progress was subtly shortened because they now shared the same F1 car level.


    With time, and with money obviously, Bueseno Velocit¨¤ secured a deal with Red Bull, marking them as the number 1 team using Red Bull products. Therefore, there would be a significant difference between Bueseno Velocit¨¤''s Red Bull technology and Outback Performance''s own Red Bull technology.


    Despite this, Outback Performance didn''t move away from Red Bull in search of another brand to patronize and affiliate with. They reluctantly accepted this no. 2 role, deeming Red Bull a great brand they couldn''t afford to gamble away.


    Now there they were, honing a lesser chassis and engine than Bueseno Velocit¨¤, but still capable nonetheless.


    At the time when Red Bull wasn''t yet a dominant force in F1, Outback Performance was the first to fully integrate their power units into their car design. This partnership led to their most competitive years, culminating in their only Constructors'' Championship twelve years ago. Continue reading at My Virtual Library Empire


    That season, everything aligned¡ªthe car was solid, their drivers were aggressive yet consistent, and the team operated with flawless execution.


    Luis Dreyer and Javier Montez were their two main periodic drivers now. Both were doing fairly well as Dreyer had now begun to show good signs of progress. Though he was better last season than this season.


    Luca knew their Team Principal, Mr. Holloway. He''s Australian, and was once the team''s engineer before turned into team boss.


    Right now in the Formula 1 standings, they sat in 7th.


    One didn''t need to think twice before understanding why they needed Luca in their roster and every Grand Prix lineup. The team needed a star driver, a driver who could single-handedly elevate their performance, turn midfield struggles into podium fights, and carry the weight of the team when the car alone wasn''t enough.


    At the moment, Dreyer and Montez could be regarded as being on the same level, and their board could see nothing but a haze, fog, and mist in their future. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For Outback Performance, Luca was more than a potential signing for them, he was deemed a necessity before they fully got blown out of Top 5 discussions.


    Luca''s take on Outback wasn''t that bad.


    From his perspective, they seemed like a good team capable of rising to the top once again if he drove well under their standards. After all, they possessed substantial wealth and influence, even giving way to the possibility of Luca driving a Red Bull¡ªsomething he believed he wouldn''t do.


    Deep ochre served as the primary color of Outback Performance, complemented by dark green as the secondary, while black and white provided sharp accents to complete the professional finish.


    It wasn''t the most striking livery on the grid, nor the most admired, but it had presence. It carried the rugged, unyielding spirit of the team, and it certainly looked good draped over their Red Bull-powered machines.


    Mallow was satisfied with how Outback Performance approached their initial discussions and saw potential in their offer. He was more than willing to continue negotiations, even putting a pause on talks with Iberia GP, another Formula 1 team vying for Luca''s signature.


    These developments were causing deep concern within Trampos, especially for Mr. Fisher and the rest of the board.


    Mallow had already made it clear that Formula 1 was Luca''s next step. It was the goal. And with time, after further discussions with his client, he could very well move forward with whatever team seemed the most promising.


    Mr. Fisher was troubled by this. He had hoped that the increased wages and improved contract terms would be enough to keep Luca with Trampos, at least for one more season. But with Mallow actively fielding offers and Luca''s future becoming a serious topic of negotiation, there was a real chance that by the end of the season, he would have already agreed to personal terms with another team.


    However, at the moment, Luca''s and the entire Trampos team had problems far different from the possibility of him leaving the team to an F1 team.


    The FIA had just given Luca and Trampos a detailed list of how his substance screening and test would proceed. It''d be a grueling process, one designed to leave no stone unturned.


    Luca would be required to report to an FIA-approved testing facility within 48 hours. It''d likely be the same one he visited in order to be cleared for competition when he got his ribs injured.


    The FIA made it clear that the testing process would be invasive as Luca would undergo a full medical examination, and the FIA might also inspect Trampos'' single-seaters if necessary.


    They''d comb through every detail, searching for anything that could explain his performance. And if they found nothing¡ªwell, that might raise even more questions.


    Luca noticed they added something called Psychological Evaluation, an assessment to determine if his sudden on-track performance could be attributed to mental conditioning or other non-physical factors.


    Each of these tests, starting from all medical checkups, would range 2-3 hours per day for two days, for comprehensive tests, 4-6 hours per day spread over two days as well, and psychological evaluation, 3-4 hours spread over 5 days.


    Once all tests were completed, the FIA would compile the results and issue a verdict. If cleared, Luca would be free to continue racing. If not, he could face suspension, fines, or even a lifetime ban, depending on what substance was found.


    That was if they even find anything.


    Time frame would be 2-3 weeks for the final decision. This value in particular was what bothered everyone in Trampos, not even Luca''s ongoing talks with F1 teams.

 Chapter 197 A Team And A Home

    To Luca''s surprise, after the training session that day, Mr. Grant offered to give him a ride back home. Actually it''d be a ride in Mr. Colt''s car.Luca had never actually seen Mr. Grant arrive anywhere, not even at headquarters, in a car of his own. He was always with someone, sitting in the passenger seat. Most recently, he had been hitching rides with Ms. Vallotton.


    When Mr. Grant extended the offer, Luca hesitated for a moment before accepting. He knew this meant his Team Principal would see where he lived, and chances were, he''d have to offer a brief invitation inside.


    Colt spun his car keys around his index finger and led them toward his vehicle in the lot while Luca quickly called Sara, letting her know he''d be taking another ride.


    Colt''s car was an elegant Mercedes commercial sedan, sleek and polished, with the signature four-eye design¡ªtwo at the front, two at the back¡ªand the brand''s iconic emblem sitting proudly between its headlights.


    As expected, Mr. Grant claimed the passenger seat. Luca placed his duffel bag in the backseat, but just as he was about to get in, Colt stopped him with a casual request.


    "Put it in the trunk instead."


    Luca paused for a second, unsure why, but he obeyed without question. He turned back, ready to enter the car again¡ªonly to notice two familiar figures approaching.


    Mr. Moritz and McCauley.


    "They''re coming too?" Luca asked, putting it together in an instant.


    "Yup," Colt replied with an easy grin before settling into the driver''s seat. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Moritz and McCauley reached them quickly, with McCauley gripping Luca''s shoulders like he was kneading dough.


    "Let''s see this million-dollar house of yours, shall we?" Moritz sneered.


    "I don''t need this many people escorting me home, you know that?" Luca muttered.


    McCauley shoved him into the backseat. "You''re sitting in the middle."


    Luca let out a sigh and made sure to spread his legs wide before Moritz and McCauley could claim more space for themselves.


    The doors shut with a soft click, and Colt wasted no time starting the engine.


    Luca blinked. The sound was almost nonexistent, almost like a spider. It purred so quietly, he could barely hear it. He had never encountered a smoother, more refined hum in his life. Even in their commercial models, Mercedes never failed to place themselves on a pedestal of prestige.


    Luca asked Colt for the name of the model and he said it was Mercedes Veltrix S9.


    Luca nodded, impressed. "Can any of you fine-tune an engine like this without messing with its silence?" He directed the question to Colt and Moritz, the two engineers in the car.


    Colt chuckled as he kept his focus on the road, while Moritz smirked and nudged Luca with his elbow.


    "We deal with single-seaters, chump. This is Formula racing, not street racing. And even street racing engines aren''t this quiet," Moritz scoffed.


    Colt added, "The sound would definitely change. I don''t know¡­ I don''t mess with commercial cars. I don''t think you''ll find anyone who can handle both worlds equally well."


    Luca shrugged. "I do."


    His mind immediately went to Isabella. He wondered if she could repair the Veltrix S9 without altering that near-silent hum.


    Moritz shook his head. "Whoever that is should be working GT racing, not Formula racing."


    GT racing, huh¡­


    Formula racing focuses on maximum performance, with loud, high-pitched engines built for speed. The noise is part of the package.


    GT racing, however, uses cars closer to production models, balancing power with a quieter, more refined engine sound. While still fast, GT engines are designed to be less noisy compared to the raw sound of Formula cars.


    Luca relaxed and began playing the candy game on his phone after giving Colt the detailed route to his home.


    Without delay, they began discussing about the pending screening test that was currently being carried out on Luca, and how only a few checks were left and then, the wait for the results.


    Mr. Grant led the conversation, making it clear that he didn''t like it one bit how things were going and how the FIA was handling it.


    Trampos'' own medical report on Luca''s doping test had come out negative, assuring every one, including the management that the FIA would find nothing.


    The FIA finding a substance wasn''t even their problem, because they all knew they wouldn''t. Their problem was how long it''d take the FIA to come to that final decision that everyone already anticipated.


    Less than a month now, Luca was still free to drill, but the team and him most importantly needed a free mind if they wanted to step into Italy with a winning mindset.


    After a few minutes of driving through the quiet neighborhood of Dahlem, Luca straightened up in his seat and began giving Colt precise, street-by-street directions to his house. Read exclusive chapters at My Virtual Library Empire


    Colt, eyeing the upscale area with some doubt, followed Luca''s directions, steering the Mercedes along the winding streets, all while Luca pointed from the backseat.


    Finally, they arrived, and Moritz and McCauley sat in stunned silence, their jaws slightly dropped at the sight of the grand property. Colt chuckled and shut off the engine. "Big house, big goals, big victory," he said, glancing at the impressive estate before turning to the others. "Alright, let''s get out."


    Luca got out of the car and walked toward the trunk to grab his duffel bag. He fumbled with his keys as he approached the gate, ready to unlock it.


    Meanwhile, Colt, Moritz, and McCauley stepped back, walking into the middle of the quiet street to get a better look at the house above the large gate. Mr. Grant, however, stayed close to Luca as he unlocked the gate.


    "I hope you didn''t stretch yourself too thin financially for this," he asked, his voice quiet but carrying a note of concern.


    Luca laughed, hearing the click of the lock turning. "Don''t worry, sir. I manage my finances well," he said, pushing the gate open to the side and motioning for everyone to come in, including the three still standing in the street.

 Chapter 198 A Team And A Home. 2

    After Luca invited everyone in through the gate,as per their request, he gave them a short tour around the house, starting with the impressive and tasteful frontyard which they had just trampled upon.The pathway, snaked from the gate to the garage intrigued Colt the most for some reason. He said he liked how it gave the green grass a nice, balanced shape, and how the oak trees even provided a natural parking spot for any extra vehicle that needed to come in.


    Mr. Grant liked Luca''s garden the most, the pergola-covered seating area and the fountain. He made a nice remark about it being a very nice place for summer memories to be reminisced.


    Moritz and McCauley were just stunned about the framework itself, the entire building and its tasty white paint. They advised Luca to begin looking for cleaners as soon as possible, saying if he didn''t, he''d become a wizard in a haunted, white-house-turned-gray.


    Luca laughed the joke out, asking them inside as he opened the main door.


    He led them to the spacious living room, inviting them to take seats on the unique furniture.


    Instantly, Mr. Grant recognized every decor and he put two and two together, realizing Luca was under an umbrella, a very wealthy one at that.


    The kind of decor and ornamentation Hawthornes used were very special and unique, but definitely not ostentatious. It had this essence of respected elegance and wealth, whereas, many empires make the mistake of showiness and vaunt in their products and attires.


    "I knew I''d be a host today," Luca said as he offered to get everyone drinks.


    "You sure you have anything in your fridge but Fijee cans stacked from bottom to top? Ha!" McCauley joked and everyone laughed. "You got beer?"


    "Of course," Luca replied.


    Although he doesn''t drink them as all alcohol intake was reserved for podium victories, Luca still had varieties of drinks at home reserved for visitors.


    After all, having such a house like this would attract visitors. But in calculation on Luca''s part, his guest count ever since he moved in had been quite... small.


    Who was he going to invite either way?


    "Beer," McCauley said.


    "Stout," Moritz said.


    "Wine," Colt said with his legs crossed.


    Everyone turned to Mr. Grant, who had picked up the newspaper Luca left on a side table and was already looking into it. "I''ll take a can of malt, Luca," Mr. Grant said.


    Luca nodded and clapped his hands. He turned on the TV and tossed the remote to McCauley before he left the living room.


    Mr. Grant asked McCauley to reduce the volume of the TV and McCauley obeyed without hesitation. He and Moritz were invested with what they were watching, while Colt entertained himself with his phone.


    Luca returned a few minutes later, with a tray in hand, neatly arranging the drinks. He set them down on the coffee table, careful to match the right drink to the right person.


    "Stout for the man who''s always been at the other end of my radio," Luca said, placing the glass down in front of Moritz with a small smile.


    "Beer for the man who makes my pits as fast as lightning," he added, handing over a cold bottle.


    "Aye," McCauley responded and grabbed the bottle.


    "Wine for Colt, the man who says what my car can''t say," Luca proclaimed as he poured a generous glass of red into the crystal tumbler before placing it in Colt''s hand.


    "It''s my honor," Colt said with a nod.


    "And your malt, dear gaffer, we''re at the top of the standings because of you," Luca said, offering the can to Mr. Grant with the most curt bow he could execute.


    Mr. Grant smiled and accepted the can.


    Luca picked up his sparkling water, scanned the room, and found a spot on the sofa to relax in. Just as he was about to settle in, McCauley raised his bottle. "Let''s make a toast!"


    "To what?" Colt asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "To Luca, of course," McCauley said with a grin.


    "What''s there to toast? My man''s on a list he shouldn''t be on," Colt said.


    McCauley shrugged, determined to push forward with the toast. "Alright, let''s toast to Luca Rennick, the reckless fucki¡ª"


    "Don''t say it," Luca interrupted, shaking his head.


    McCauley and Moritz burst into laughter. "Okay, okay. Let''s toast to Luca Rennick, currently the best driver in Formula 2, probably the best this division has ever seen, and the best this team has ever had. To Luca!" McCauley declared.


    "Cheers," everyone echoed softly, each taking a sip. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca sunk into his sofa and leaned back, letting the atmosphere settle in as the TV hummed in the background.


    He was still in his tracksuit and he needed to take a bath, but he knew they''d have to leave before he did that.


    After a few minutes, Mr. Grant stood up and asked Luca to show him around the house. Luca, eager to impress Mr. Grant, smiled and nodded, leading the way.


    He first guided Mr. Grant through the hallway, showcasing the minimalist art on the walls that was given to him as a token by the previous owners. He also showcased the large windows that bathed the rooms in natural light. They passed the sleek, neat kitchen, which had a modern yet cozy feel.


    Upstairs, Luca pointed out the guest rooms, the gym and a second living room, each with its own view. Mr. Grant made a fine remark about the need for Luca having a beautiful personal living room like that with shelves full of books.


    They finally made their way to the fourth balcony, where Luca paused, gesturing to the serene greenery that stretched between the neighboring homes, offering a peaceful, secluded view.


    Mr. Grant leaned on the balcony rail, squinting slightly as he took in the view. "You really like this property. I can see that."


    Luca smiled. "It''s my first property. Everyone loves their first things."


    "Would you leave it here in Germany or sell it?" Mr. Grant asked, his gaze fixed on the horizon.


    "Pardon?" Luca asked, briefly distracted by the question.


    Mr. Grant turned to face him. "There''s no German F1 team, you know that?"


    Luca nodded. "I... do."


    Mr. Grant returned the nod and turned back to look at the greenery below. "So, when you make it to F1, you''d likely have to sell it or just leave it behind."


    Luca shrugged, scratching the back of his head. "I guess so. I''ve thought about it."


    Mr. Grant paused, took a deep breath, and turned to face Luca directly. "When do you want to move to Formula 1, Luca?" His voice was serious, almost urgent.


    "Soon enough," Luca replied.


    "How soon?"


    Luca opened his mouth to answer, but his mind worked faster than his mouth could speak. He studied Mr. Grant''s face, looking for something deeper beneath the stern, intimidating exterior that he knew so well.


    It was still Mr. Grant¡ªgruff and unreadable¡ªbut Luca noticed something more: a sense of plea, hope, and even anticipation behind the tough facade.


    Luca blinked once, taking a deep breath as his mind quickly processed everything just like a formula driver he was. He understood what was happening now. There was no mistaking it. Mr. Grant''s words weren''t just about timing or logistics¡ªthey were about something deeper. Something that couldn''t be ignored.


    "As soon as possible," Luca answered, his voice steady. "It''s in my power, and it''s also not in my power at the same time, sir. As soon as possible."


    Mr. Grant sighed heavily and turned away, leaning on the rail again as his eyes scanned the distant horizon. The quiet hung in the air, an oppressive silence that neither of them broke. Luca didn''t want to make things awkward by leaving or standing there in silence. Instead, he joined Mr. Grant in quietly observing the cloudy sky and the birds flying by in the distance.


    But inside Luca''s mind, there was no silence. It buzzed with thoughts and realizations. He knew exactly what was going on.


    Trampos was afraid.


    It wasn''t just the team''s uncertainty about the future, but their fear of losing him to Formula 1. Luca could feel it¡ªthe unspoken worry that they might not be able to keep him much longer.


    And this conversation, this moment they were sharing right now by giving him a ride and hanging over, was an attempt to strengthen their bond with him. They were trying, without saying a word, to anchor him, to make him feel that he was needed and that they could persuade him to stay, even if just for another year.


    He could see it clearly. Mr. Grant, Colt, Moritz, and McCauley¡ªeach of them believed, deep down, that they could convince Luca to stay with Trampos. But what they didn''t realize was that Luca''s decision wasn''t just a matter of persuasion.


    If only they knew how deeply Luca had already bonded with them, how much he appreciated their camaraderie, and yet, how strong his desire was to compete in Formula 1.


    The passion to reach the highest level of motorsport was already at its peak within him, as was his sense of loyalty to Trampos. Both emotions were in constant conflict, and the struggle weighed heavily on his heart.


    Anyone who might think Luca was disturbed or frightened by the decision was mistaken. No, it wasn''t fear that gripped him, it was the reality of what leaving his current team would mean.


    He would step into a new world, filled with new expectations, but also with the risk of being looked down upon by the new team, possibly even hated by those he''d left behind.


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    Luca wished they could understand how tough the dilemma was for him, but even at that he''d made up his mind.


    He had served Trampos well already.

 Chapter 199 Revived & Ready. 4

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]Right after completing his tests, Luca didn''t waste time scheduling a core workout session the next day with Amir.


    He hadn''t indulged in one earlier because he feared that overexerting himself might affect the test. In fact, Mr. Ammermann advised him against it as well.


    Today, he was determined to get back into full focus and leave the rest in the hands of the FIA.


    He had the 12th round ahead of him, the Italian Mega Prix, the finale where he and the other drivers had a chance at the trophy. Luca believed he was even locking in late.


    After close to two weeks of dormancy, during which a series of check-ups were carried out on his body, Luca needed to return to peak condition with core workouts that would likely be low-impact but highly effective to avoid unnecessary fatigue while also maintaining strength and stability.


    Luca asked his system to give him a set of workouts for today''s session, structured on the needs he had just provided above.


    Before Amir could arrive, Luca''s system had already received and processed the instruction, drafting out a three-set workout session to meet his needs.


    [Today''s session will focus on Glute Bridge March, Cable Woodchoppers, and Hanging Knee Raises.]


    Luca relayed the same info to Amir once he arrived.


    Amir, seeing this, was pleased, saying it was exactly what Luca needed. Yet, he asked Luca if he still wanted to be drafting out his own workout sessions and not him. After all, he was being paid to be Luca''s personal trainer.


    Luca brushed it off, assuring Amir he was doing well. All he did was make slight additions here and there, nothing much compared to almost all mornings when Amir ruled every bend of the knee.


    Delighted, Amir read out the three sets and their corresponding details exactly as Luca had remembered his system describing them.


    The system, unchanged, still followed its tradition.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [System is analyzing and retrieving training program issued to host.]


    [Glute Bridge March ]


    [Cable Woodchoppers analyzed]


    [Hanging Knee Raises analyzed]


    [Ding!]


    [Successfully Retrieved!]


    [EXERCISE: GLUTE BRIDGE MARCH]


    [EQUIPMENT: BODYWEIGHT / RESISTANCE BAND (OPTIONAL)]


    [Host is required to lie on their back with knees bent and feet flat on the ground, engaging the core and glutes to lift the hips into a bridge position. From there, one knee is raised toward the chest while maintaining hip stability, then lowered before switching to the other leg. This exercise strengthens the core, lower back, and glutes while improving balance and endurance, essential for maintaining control under prolonged physical stress during races.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of 10 reps per leg, ensuring slow and controlled movements to maximize stability without overloading fatigued muscles.]


    This was a solid core and lower-body exercise¡ªcore stability, endurance, and lower back strength. Although there would be limited upper-body engagement, it still extended to the glutes, hamstrings, and lower back.


    It was a perfect workout for Luca, avoiding unnecessary strain on the ribs and spine, making it a very safe post-doping test since Luca might be slightly dehydrated or fatigued compared to his normal homeostasis.


    While he completed the reps, Luca and Amir discussed the screening test, which was now entering its third week.


    There was no doubt about it¡ªthe FIA was really taking its time with Luca''s case. Even with Trampos'' board doing all they could to push the process faster, it just seemed as if reading out medical tests was the biggest problem in the world.


    Luca sighed as he finished his set. Lowering his hips back down, he exhaled, already feeling the activation in his core and glutes.


    He dusted his hands and asked they continue.


    [EXERCISE: CABLE WOODCHOPPERS]


    [EQUIPMENT: CABLE MACHINE / RESISTANCE BAND]


    [Host is required to stand with feet shoulder-width apart, holding the cable or resistance band handle with both hands. The movement begins from a high position, pulling diagonally across the body to a low position, engaging the core throughout. The focus is on controlled rotation, mimicking the torso stabilization needed for high-speed steering and resisting lateral forces in the cockpit.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of 12 reps per side, ensuring fluid movement and core engagement while avoiding excessive spinal rotation that could strain fatigued muscles.]


    Luca''s cable machine once again.


    He walked toward the cable machine and gripped the handles firmly, setting his stance solid like he would in the cockpit of his Dallara... or any other.


    Cable Woodchoppers is an exercise of rotational strength and stability, so Luca felt his obliques fire up as soon as he started, Amir motivating him on.


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    The constant pulling, rotation and momentum were not new to Luca. As a driver like him, the movement and feeling was similar and directly translated to handling high-speed turns, counteracting G-forces, and maintaining endurance over the long stints he executed on track.


    On the third set, his movements flowed more smoothly than before, his burning muscles forced to comply and adjust. Each repetition felt sharper, more controlled, his body learning to endure through the strain.


    As Luca finished, Amir took a step back, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of him¡ªred-faced, veins prominent from exertion. "You''re growing muscles, Luca!" he blurted out, as if he''d just witnessed some forbidden phenomenon from the 15th century.


    Luca, still catching his breath, placed his hands on his hips and shot Amir an incredulous look. "That''s like telling a teenage girl, ''YOU''RE GROWING BREASTS, MADELYN!''"


    Amir burst into laughter, gesturing at Luca''s biceps, which were slowly relaxing back to a more natural size. "I mean, it was a shock! You looked suddenly jacked for a second."


    Luca took another deep sip of water before wiping his mouth. "Hilarious. C''mon, let''s finish this."


    [EXERCISE: HANGING KNEE RAISES] S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [EQUIPMENT: PULL-UP BAR]


    [Host is required to hang from a pull-up bar with arms fully extended and a slight bend in the elbows. Engaging the core, the knees are lifted toward the chest in a controlled motion before being lowered back to the starting position. The exercise strengthens the lower abdominals, hip flexors, and grip strength, all crucial for maintaining endurance and control during long races.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of 12 reps, ensuring slow, controlled movements to maximize core engagement while preventing unnecessary swinging that could reduce effectiveness.]


    Luca strode to his pull-up bar and assessed it. Come to think of it, he hardly ever used such an important equipment.


    Hanging Knee Raises were an excellent exercise for building core strength as well, especially in the lower abdominals.


    The hanging position forces additional engagement from the shoulders and grip, making it a compound movement beneficial for overall endurance.


    However, proper form was crucial and Luca adhered to it the moment he gripped the pull-up bar and lifted his knees toward his chest. Rushing the movement or using momentum can reduce its effectiveness and strain the lower back.


    Amir stood to the side, occasionally tugging Luca''s shirt back into place as he powered through the second set of the demanding exercise.


    A sudden vibration broke the rhythm. Amir turned to see an Airphone buzzing on the bench. He arched an eyebrow. "I thought I said no phones during our sessions?"


    Luca let his legs drop momentarily, shaking out his hands before regripping the bar. He flashed Amir an innocent smile between breaths. "Sorry, but it''s Mal. He said he''d be here this morning. He''s probably at the gate. Could you get him?"


    Amir exhaled sharply but nodded. "Don''t stop, and no shortcuts," he warned before heading out. Moments later, Luca heard the distant rumble of his gate rolling open.


    He sighed, refocusing as he pushed through the last reps. The hushed voices of Mallow and Amir carried faintly through the hallway, growing louder as they approached.


    By the time Luca reached the final set, Mallow and Amir had arrived at the gym''s entrance. As expected, Mallow''s face lit up with amusement the moment he spotted him.


    "Who turned you into a monkey, Luca?!"


    Luca groaned, barely able to laugh between short, strained breaths. "It''s an exercise, mannn!"

 Chapter 201 Exiled To Italy

    Things were far more serious than Luca had initially expected. The delay in his test results had ignited a wave of frustration that quickly escalated into an unprecedented uproar among Trampos fans¡ªessentially, the German motorsport community.At first, he mellowed Mallow''s words as exaggeration, assuming it was just another instance of media sensationalism. After all, we all know sports journalists had a knack for using strong, emotionally charged language to inflate controversies.


    But when Luca switched on the TV and tuned into the motorsports channel, reality hit him hard. The news report was clear and vivid that the FIA was under intense scrutiny from the German minority fanbase, accused of mishandling the substance screening test of Trampos'' star driver¡ªhim.


    Luca could barely wrap his head around it. He had gone from facing a simple doping accusation in a feeder series to becoming the center of a national outcry. The sheer magnitude of the situation felt surreal.


    The following day, he was unable to access the Trampos headquarters for his usual drills. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The main road leading to the venue was completely blocked¡ªnot by traffic, but by an overwhelming sea of protesters. Hundreds, if not a thousand people had flooded the area, some proudly donning Trampos'' colors, while others wore casual clothing, blending into the massive crowd.


    What struck Luca the most was the nature of the protest. It wasn''t violent, nor was it filled with chaotic chanting. Instead, the people stood silently, walking around and chatting amongst themselves.


    They weren''t just here for Luca and his stalled results alone, they were making a statement against the FIA, accusing them of corruption and bias, not only towards Trampos but towards Germany as a whole¡ªand, by extension, the integrity of Formula 2.


    Trampos'' security team was completely overwhelmed. There was no way they could control such an enormous crowd. Their only course of action was to ensure the protesters didn''t breach the headquarters.


    But as for Luca, he wanted no part in the scene. Quickly, he turned to Sara and pleaded with her to reverse the car and get them out of there as the people decided it was time to begin their march to Federation facilities to get better reception.


    Similarly, in Bad Rauenberg, the Bergwaldring Circuit had been infiltrated, granting less than a thousand people entrance onto the track and the internal buildings in the circuit. This one in particular drew the most attention, it being displayed on the news was a testimony to that.


    On the second day of the protest, the demonstrators announced plans to escalate their efforts, preparing to hold up signs and chant slogans. Luca couldn''t shake the growing concern that, given enough time, the situation might turn violent.


    However, the second day of protests never even had a chance to unfold. Before it could, the president of the FIA had already taken action, preparing to publicly address the controversy.


    Never in his tenure had he imagined having to issue a formal statement¡ªboth in official documents and through the media¡ªover a Formula 2 matter. Yet, the intensity of the backlash left him with no other choice.


    Mr. Ireneo Avil¨¦s, the FIA President, and Mr. Olivier Grosjean, the President of Formula 2, addressed the motorsport community, beginning their statements with a formal breakdown of the ongoing issue. They carefully outlined the nature of the accusation, the driver at the center of it¡ªLuca¡ªand the scrutiny surrounding his pending test results.


    Though they made every effort to appear neutral, avoiding outright condemnation, Luca could sense the undertone of their words. Their cautious phrasing and the way they framed the situation suggested that, deep down, they were already leaning toward the assumption that his test would return positive. And yet, those same results were still nowhere to be found.


    Then came the apology¡ªif it could even be called that.


    Avil¨¦s and Grosjean expressed regret over the delay, acknowledging the frustration it had caused.


    However, their explanation was more of a justification than a true apology. They claimed that the extended timeframe was due to an "unexpected overload" at the accredited anti-doping laboratories.


    According to them, the facility had been handling an unusually high volume of tests from multiple disciplines, causing processing times to stretch beyond normal limits.


    Additionally, they claimed that the protest outside the facility had contributed to the delay, citing "a degree of disruption and unrest" caused by the crowd.


    Really? Luca thought.


    So now, the very people demanding transparency were being blamed for slowing things down?


    In an attempt to smooth things over and pacify the outraged German motorsport community, Mr. Avil¨¦s announced that Luca would still receive his test results¡ªbut not from that facility. Given the supposed complications caused by the protests, the FIA had decided that Luca would need to take a NEW test.


    And not just anywhere.


    Since Germany had fewer FIA-accredited laboratories compared to other motorsport countries, Avil¨¦s declared that Luca would have to travel abroad to retake the test at a different location.


    "Any place of their choosing," he added, referring to both Trampos and Luca Rennick, before concluding the speech.


    This was absurd. Insane. After nearly three weeks of waiting, after enduring the media storm, the scrutiny, and the backlash, they were now telling him the entire process had been a waste? That, on top of everything, they were shifting part of the blame onto the protesters?


    All Mallow could do was chuckle inwardly as Luca ranted like a madman in front of him.


    This was typical FIA behavior. Seven years of working under them before becoming Luca''s agent had taught Mallow one thing, and that was Luca was actually getting off easy.


    Based on how high-profile this case had become, Mallow had half-expected the FIA to delay things even further. He thought they might insist on waiting until the protests outside the subquarters facility died down before finally restarting the process. That would have meant even more weeks wasted.


    Trampos was no less frustrated by the situation. The team convened for an emergency meeting that very day to make a decision, knowing time was running out.


    The Mega Prix was set for the end of the month, and with November already here, the chill of winter was creeping in.


    Luca sat at the center of the discussion, feeling the distant, subdued concern in everyone''s tone. Maybe even a hint of grief¡ªnot over the scandal itself, but over the fact that he was openly pushing for a future in F1.


    Right now, it felt as if the team was making what they believed was the best decision for him and for Trampos as a whole, just as he had made the best decision for just himself weeks ago.


    After nearly thirty minutes of back-and-forth, they reached a final decision.


    Italy.


    Luca would take a very early flight to Italy to undergo the test there¡ªand he wouldn''t be coming back. Instead, he would stay and wait for the team until the Italian Mega Prix.


    The decision was met with mixed reactions. Some supported it, others distrusted it. And Luca?


    He was among those who distrusted it.


    Staying in Italy meant missing all team drills with Haas, which could seriously affect their coordination on race day. It meant training alone, outside the team''s familiar environment. It meant being away from everything just as the final stretch of the season was approaching.


    However, Mr. Fisher, in particular, was firm about the decision.


    "It''s better not to stress Luca with constant flights and travel," he said. "The FIA has already done enough damage to his body. He''ll go with Mr. Ruben and a few crew members. We''ll rent a Dallara for him there so he can still train." Discover hidden content at My Virtual Library Empire


    He then looked at Luca. "I also want you traveling quietly. No press. No media frenzy. You take the test as Luca, not Luca Rennick. We''ll personally choose the fastest and most secure facility."


    Luca leaned back in his seat, exhaling. He had almost forgotten he was Italian.


    When was the last time he had been in or set foot in Italy? As a toddler? a child?


    Maybe a child. Sophia was still an infant then, that was for sure.


    But now, he was going. Two weeks earlier than planned.

 Chapter 202 Exiled To Italy. 2

    Luca was beginning to understand something about this monotony of modern life.Even back when he worked at the steel factory, things didn''t feel this way. There was a certain rhythm to it, a connection to the streets that led him there every morning, to the hunchbacked TV he and his grey-bearded coworkers huddled around during breaks, watching old comedy shows. If a Formula racing segment ever came on, Luca wouldn''t even glance at it¡ªhe''d just get up and find something else to do.


    At least back then, life felt big, full of open roads and endless possibilities. He worked from morning till night, sure, but there were other moments in between. Some days, they had nothing to do but sit around and talk.


    He loved listening to the old men''s jokes and life stories, soaking up lessons they had learned the hard way.


    Some of the lessons were how to avoid the pitfalls of arrogance, how to keep a level head, how to treat people with respect and how to never take a woman for granted. Explore stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    Then, was anything but this existential numbness he was feeling now.


    Wasn''t it just yesterday he was packing his bags for Paris? Now, here he was, doing the same for Milan.


    With a tired groan, Luca shoved more clothes into his suitcase, trying to get it over with as fast as possible.


    Mallow and Sara wouldn''t be arriving for another three, maybe four days. This flight had come out of nowhere. Trampos had been able to pull some strings to get him on a quick one, but for normal civilians like Sara and Mallow? That wasn''t an option.


    Not to mention, even the Hawthorne jet hadn''t been ready for something this last-minute.


    Luca expected the 12th and final round to be the longest, so he packed enough supplies to last a month, accounting for his extended stay.


    Before leaving, he stopped at the gate and turned back, taking a good look at the house. He studied its condition, noting the leaves scattered on the ground, the height of the lawn grass, and the general state of the place.


    He wanted to compare it to how it would look when he returned, to see how much the leaves would pile up, how much taller the grass would get, and what other signs of neglect would appear. It would give him a clear idea of how fast maintenance was needed and to what extent.


    After making his observations, Luca walked through the gate with his luggage, locked up, and got into the private car waiting for him.


    Luca hoped that the next time he walked through that gate, he would be walking in with the F2 Drivers Championship trophy.


    Mr. Ammermann and Mr. Ruben were the two top Trampos staff accompanying Luca on this early flight.


    Mr. Ammermann was coming along because they''d be dealing with medical procedures again, while Mr. Ruben was needed since Luca would have to drive and train before the rest of Trampos arrived.


    A few other crew members were also joining them. Their main job would be to keep the single Dallara Luca would be using in top condition, act as his pit crew, and handle any technical issues that came up.


    As Luca thought about it, he started to realize this trip might actually be fun and memorable.


    It would just be them in whatever FIA facility was assigned to them for the 12th round. And considering they were in Italy, the facility was bound to be big, meaning the place would feel empty as they practiced. His car''s roar would echo through the track with no one else around.


    Even last night, before going to sleep, Luca had remembered that Isabella was still in Milan. Getting there earlier meant he''d get to see her again, and no doubt, she''d probably stay all the way through to race day on the 28th.


    When he first realized this, he hadn''t really processed how lucky he was to get a quieter, more personal time with Isabella. He had still been too irritated about the FIA and their theatrics. But now, as he settled into the cab, his mood softened.


    He wanted to call her like usual, but given how early it was, he decided to just send her a text about his sudden flight to Milan.


    The cab arrived at the airport five minutes earlier than Luca had expected. He stepped out, adjusting the black nose mask on his face, and paid the driver before making his way through the crisp early morning airbase.


    His steps were steady, his gaze scanning the quiet surroundings as he moved toward the area where Mr. Ammermann and Mr. Ruben would likely be arriving. The airport was relatively calm at this hour, with only a few scattered personnel and passengers moving about.


    Luca spotted Mr. Ruben near one of the private boarding zones, arms crossed as he checked his watch. He approached and greeted him, but before he could say much, Mr. Ruben snorted and tossed him his own luggage before gripping Luca''s shoulders.


    "When we get there, get all this stress done, and you turn out positive, what do you think I should do to you?" sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His thumbs pressed into Luca''s clavicle, making him twitch. "Uh... roast my feet and eat them?"


    Mr. Ruben paused before letting go. "That was exactly what I was going to say. How did you know?"


    Luca sighed, adjusting his mask. "You say it to everyone," he muttered, shifting his eyes toward a mini-bus pulling up. "They''re here."


    The sleek, polished Trampos bus rolled to a stop, and its doors slid open. Mr. Ammermann stepped out first, followed by a small team of crew members. They moved quietly and efficiently, carrying their bags with that mastered ease of those who were used to constant travel.


    Luca didn''t waste time, grabbing both his and Mr. Ruben''s luggage and hauling them along. No one needed to exchange many words¡ªjust a few nods and glances as silent greetings. They were all familiar with each other, and at this point, the routine was second nature.


    Mr. Ruben and Mr. Ammermann gave a final rundown of the flight details. The jet they''d be taking was a small 80-passenger aircraft, exclusively for them¡ªno civilians, no distractions.


    With everything in order, they made their way toward the jet, their footsteps echoing on the pavement, then the tarmac. The sun had begun its slow rise, casting a soft golden hue over the quiet morning.

 Chapter 203 Exiled To Italy. 3

    Berlin and Milan were in the same time zone, which influenced the perceived length of the journey. The direct flight lasted around two hours, while the total travel time, including airport procedures, was closer to three hours.As the pilot announced their entry into Italian airspace, Luca instinctively pressed himself against the window, eager to catch his first glimpse of the country''s landscape.


    But all he saw was a vast stretch of land caught between autumn''s fading warmth and winter''s slow embrace. Patches of frost clung to the earth like delicate lace, weaving through fields and forests, while scattered woodlands stood with trees half-bare, their golden and russet leaves stubbornly holding on against the creeping cold.


    In the distance, the first hints of snow dusted the mountaintops. The view was an illustration, a promise of the festive season soon to come.


    The view was also breathtaking nonetheless, and Luca let his eyes linger for a moment or two before he sighed and relaxed back into his seat.


    "...Welcome to Italy, where history whispers through ancient streets, passion fuels every moment, and every journey is a masterpiece waiting to unfold..."


    Italy, a country that had long established itself as the beating heart of motorsport, particularly in the realm of Formula racing, had now become a prepotent country in this time, and probably anytime in history.


    It wasn''t just like any other country that participated, it was a country that defined the sport, shaping its culture, engineering, and sheer passion.


    Luca didn''t know how it all started, but all he knew was that from the very beginning, Italy''s influence in Formula 1 and its feeder series had been and was still undeniable.


    They produced machinery that were synonymous to prestige and dominance, as if every year, they were in pursuit of something more than perfection.


    Three of the top five best teams in the sport hailed from Italy¡ªSquadra Corse, Bueseno Velocit¨¤, and Nevada HanSama¡ªwith a staggering 80% of all Formula 3 teams also being Italian.


    Luca often wondered how Nevada, Squadra, and Velocit¨¤ managed to coexist in the same country without one claiming complete dominance. None had earned the undisputed title of Kings of Italy, and their fan bases were constantly at war over which team reigned supreme.


    Among the top five car manufacturers in the sport, Italy had only one representative¡ªFerrari. And out of the three major Italian teams, only Nevada used Ferrari machinery, while the others relied on different manufacturers.


    Despite Audi and Mercedes being German brands, Mercedes didn''t base itself in Germany¡ªonly Audi did. Even with Germany''s history in motorsport and its contribution through legendary brands like BMW¡ªwhich had long exited the sport¡ªthe FIA still didn''t prioritize the country in its promotions. This lack of attention was a sore spot for German motorsport fans, fueling their frustration.


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    The German Grand Prix at the start of the season had actually been the first in three years, marking only its fourth hosting in this generation.


    Meanwhile, Italy had a flawless 100% hosting record¡ª13 consecutive years, 10 Grand Prix events, and 3 Mega Prix, including the upcoming one.


    Luca couldn''t really blame the FIA, though. It was like serving a king his wine¡ªexactly when and how he demanded it. A racing-obsessed nation.


    Unlike other countries where Formula racing might be just another sport, a secondary interest, Italy lived and breathed it.


    Racing wasn''t just entertainment for them, it was a way of life. Even before the turn of the 21st century, it had cemented itself as the nation''s number one sport, shaping generations of drivers, engineers, and fans alike.


    Over time, Italy''s influence spread beyond its borders, its racing legacy taking root in foreign lands. From the earliest circuits to cutting-edge modern tracks, the country had always been at the forefront of innovation, now standing as the undisputed center of motorsport.


    Luca often wondered why so many Italian drivers¡ªhimself included¡ªturned out to be exceptional. Was it something in their blood? A natural talent passed down through generations? Or was there something ritualistic about it, as the Tifosi seemed to believe?


    He didn''t dwell on the thought for long, especially on the Tifosi people he really disliked for some reason.


    The captain''s announcement came over the intercom, instructing them to prepare for landing. Luca straightened in his seat, adjusting his harness and ensuring his belongings were secure. The cabin lights dimmed slightly as the jet descended, the low hum of the engines shifting in tone. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The plane landed smoothly, its tires kissing the runway with a soft screech before rolling to a gradual stop. The hum of the engines quieted as the aircraft taxied toward the private terminal, and Luca unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to move.


    As soon as the seatbelt sign flicked off, he grabbed his belongings and made an early move toward the cabin door. But just as he was about to step past Mr. Ruben, a firm hand landed on his chest.


    "Nuh uh," Mr. Ruben muttered, shaking his head. He then pointed at his own luggage, wordlessly reminding Luca of the task he''d assigned him earlier.


    Luca exhaled sharply, giving a short, dramatic bow before stepping back to grab the bags. By the time he turned again, a crew member had already made it to the door and was preparing to step out first.


    The cabin door opened, letting in a rush of fresh air mixed with the scent of the jet fuel. Luca adjusted his grip on the luggage and followed the others down the narrow stairs. The morning sun had fully risen, casting long shadows on the tarmac as they stepped onto the private airstrip.


    No welcoming party this time. No fluffy necklace, no leis.


    Trampos had already arranged for their transport. It wasn''t a red Trampos bus though, it was a black, brandless mini bus, almost as if for some vigilante group.


    A uniformed attendant greeted them with a nod before opening the vehicle''s sliding door.


    Mr. Ammermann and Mr. Ruben gave a quick headcount before signaling for everyone to board. Luca practically tossed Mr. Ruben''s bags into the back before climbing in himself, settling into a seat near the window.


    A crew member, a girl, made effort to sit directly next to Luca, and so the bus filled up.


    The bus pulled away from the terminal, rolling smoothly onto the main road. It was time for Luca to see what was so special about this country.


    He stretched his legs, finally relaxing before looking to his side to take note of who was sitting beside him.

 Chapter 204 Exiled To Italy. 4

    Just as Luca had anticipated, the designated facility in Milan for Trampos Racing''s stay throughout the 12th round of the championship season was enormous.


    The facility featured a 3-kilometer track designed in a spiral, wavy form, ending in a massive curve that gave the entire complex a round shape. The track''s shape and structure deliberately mimicked the Autodromo di Lombardia, the legendary circuit in Monza that often hosted the Italian Grands Prix and would host the upcoming Mega Prix.


    Surrounding the track, state-of-the-art buildings were strategically positioned, forming a sleek border that, when viewed from above, gave the impression that the track was wearing glasses. The architecture was not just functional but visually striking, enhancing the facility''s prestige.


    Luca admired every detail, but as the facility''s functionaries continued explaining, his excitement began to wane.


    They revealed that due to its vast size and dual-section design, the facility would be shared with another team¡ªAvidavis Motorsport. Two bridge walkways connected both sections, further reinforcing the "eyeglass" resemblance of the track''s aerial view. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hearing this, Luca''s initial excitement dimmed slightly. However, since Avidavis Motorsport wasn''t a rival or a particularly competitive team, he felt a little more at ease. The facility was still spacious enough, and despite the unexpected split, there was plenty of room for them to train without interference.


    Luca glanced around him.


    No Victor, McCauley, Dennis, or any of the others he usually joked around with. If they were here, he would have already challenged them to a quick sprint to the next braking marker, betting a few drinks on the outcome.


    Instead, he was surrounded by Mr. Ammermann¡ªcalm, collected, a doctor, and the last person who would indulge in such nonsense. Then there was Mr. Ruben¡ªdefinitely not the type to entertain a spontaneous race. The rest were crew members, mostly sharp-minded engineers, young nerds engrossed in their tasks, and a few fine girls.


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    Luca sighed, pushing down his lingering adrenaline. With nothing else to do, he adjusted his grip on his bags and made his way toward the tallest building in the facility, a towering structure of glass and steel that housed all their rooms.


    Mr. Ammermann walked beside Luca, his arm casually resting on Luca''s shoulder. Luca wasn''t sure why, but it seemed like everyone treated his shoulder as a convenient resting place.


    "We won''t waste time, Luca," Mr. Ammermann said, briefly lifting his arm to rub his eyes. Even he was feeling the exhaustion. "It''s a few minutes to eleven. We''ll rest, settle in, have lunch, and then head into the city to begin this charade."


    "Sure," Luca replied, grabbing the man''s bags without needing to be asked. "We''re still sticking to that plan, right?"


    "Yes, of course."


    They moved through the lounge, passing sleek furnishings and polished floors, before stepping into the elevator. A smooth ride up, and soon they were heading toward their respective rooms.


    Luca was eager to see what kind of space had been prepared for his championship-winning room. Swiping his key card, he twisted the handle and pushed the door open.


    As if on cue, the moment Luca pushed the door open, a slight air current sent the thin peach curtains soaring, their fabric billowing wildly and allowing the sunlight to spill freely into the room. The warm glow stretched across the plush peach rug, brightening the space with a soft golden hue.


    The room was familiar in its layout¡ªlike every other hotel room he had lodged in this season¡ªbut with subtle differences in the positioning of the bed and furniture. It felt larger, more personal, and less like a standard hotel accommodation. There was a certain comfort to it, a quiet sense of belonging that the others hadn''t offered.


    Luca set his luggage aside, closed the door, and stepped further in. As the air current settled, the curtains floated back down, dimming the room slightly. He turned back, found the light switch, and flicked it on before continuing his inspection. The kitchenette, toilet, and bathroom were all neatly arranged, matching the high standards he was used to.


    Satisfied, he returned to the main room and moved to the window. He opened them and folded the curtains aside, letting the natural light and fresh air fill the space. His room had a sharp, angled view of the facility''s track. From there, he could see glimpses of the lower floors, the reception area, pit garages, and various other sections.


    Luca stood at the window for a while, taking it all in before turning to unpack.


    This was it. The sudden nature of the trip hadn''t given him the chance to fully process it, but now, standing in this room, it was finally sinking in.


    This would be his last "final" of the year¡ªa slang for the flights, hotel stays, and all the exhausting travel. The last of the season. And if things went the way he planned, the last time he''d ever do it in Formula 2.


    This would be the room where he''d either fall asleep with a heavy heart after failure in Monza or stay up until 2 a.m., celebrating a championship victory¡ªthe Formula 2 world champion.


    Unpacking was just as tedious as the packing, but Luca managed to get through it within the hour. Once everything was in place, he redressed the bed and made sure the room was more neatly arranged. He had the team''s schedule in mind, but there was still some time to spare.


    Settling into one of the mini-sofas, he pulled out his phone to send a few messages, letting Mr. Fisher, Mr. Grant, Ms. Vallotton, Haas, Mallow, and Sara know that he had arrived safely in Milan and was settled in the facility.


    Among the messages, he saw that Isabella had already replied to the one he had sent before taking his flight. Surprisingly, she had responded just a few minutes after he sent it, contradicting his earlier assumption that she would be asleep by then. She expressed her surprise at his sudden departure to Italy and asked him to call her once he arrived.


    Two hours later, she messaged again, this time with concern.


    Luca started to type a response but paused. Instead, his thumb moved to the three-dotted button, and he selected the call option.


    As the phone rang, he made his way to the cupboards, hoping to find some snacks. Unfortunately, there were none. Their arrival had been earlier than expected, so the usual pastries, bread, and cake hadn''t been set out yet.


    Sighing, he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder while changing¡ªswitching out his joggers for plain jeans and swapping his Catapult watch for a real one.


    Isabella answered just as he finished adjusting his outfit. Their conversation began naturally, flowing as he stepped out of his room, heading downstairs to grab something to eat before meeting up with Mr. Ammermann to proceed with their plans.

 Chapter 205 Exiled To Italy. 5

    Trampos'' big strategy for conducting Luca''s tests in Italy was set to be executed swiftly and with enough misdirection to throw off whoever¡ªor whatever¡ªhad been responsible for the fallout of his initial tests.


    The first phase of the plan required Luca, Mr. Ammermann, and two crew members to make an appearance at a well-known FIA sub-quarter in Milan. That is, if it could even be considered a proper sub-quarter.


    Italy had an unusually high number of FIA sub-quarters for a single motorsport-driven country. This was unbelievable and ironic, given that the FIA''s main headquarters was already located in Italy!


    Mr. Fisher had ruled out conducting the tests at the headquarters. Instead, the goal was for Luca and the team to be seen entering the Milan sub-quarter, ensuring their presence was noted.


    The track facility had provided them with a comfortable SUV, and they were now making their way through the bustling streets of Milan, weaving through the dense city traffic toward their destination.


    Back then, in anticipation of the Spanish Grand Prix, Barcelona had shown excitement, but it was nowhere near the sheer passion Milan was displaying now. Luca could only imagine how electrifying Monza itself would be.


    The roads were lined with banners of all sizes, draped over buildings, strung between lampposts, and even wrapped around some city buses. The Italian tricolor¡ªgreen, white, and red¡ªwas everywhere, waving proudly alongside flags bearing the Ferrari logo, names of drivers, and team insignias.


    EVERY storefront had rearranged their displays to showcase racing memorabilia¡ªobjects like miniature F1 cars, helmets, and signed posters of legendary Italian drivers like Marco Rossi for example.


    EVERY electronic billboard flashed between normal advertisements and the 12th round ads.


    Pedestrians filled the sidewalks, many of them casually wearing t-shirts, sweaters, and scarves of Squadra Corse, Velocit¨¤, or Nevada HanSama, as if they were everyday fashion. Some even had jackets with bold team logos printed across the back, a clear sign of their allegiance. It was as if the entire city had been divided into three factions, yet the energy was nothing but celebratory.


    At a zebra crossing where their ride stopped for a moment, a group of fans in matching Velocit¨¤ hoodies strolled across without urgency, chatting animatedly. One of them pointed towards a towering digital billboard ahead, where an advertisement for the upcoming Mega Prix flashed in dazzling lights, showing a roaring Red Bull storming through Monza, Davide DiMarco behind it, and the words "La Battaglia Finale" emblazoned across the screen.


    Luca whispered something he himself didn''t even understand as he saw it all. This wasn''t just a country hosting the final race of the season, this country was living and breathing it.


    The car slowed at a traffic light again, giving Luca a chance to glance at everything. He realized this was the metropolis of the city, the capital, making him wonder how other parts of the country would even be celebrating in anticipation.


    The SUV rolled to a smooth stop, the hum of its engine fading beneath the city''s lively atmosphere. Luca glanced out the window.


    He had expected the building to be tucked away somewhere quiet, maybe in the outskirts where things were less chaotic. But no. This sub-quarters sat right in the heart of Milan, surrounded by the rhythm of a city that thrived on speed and competition.


    It wasn''t as grand as the sub-quarters in Berlin, nor did it have the sheer presence of the FIA''s main Italian base in Rome, but it still held authority.


    The building was a combination of modern and classical architecture, and the front boasted towering white columns that lined the entrance like a courthouse. Between them, large glass panels reflected the movement of the streets, giving the place a polished and an intimidating feel.


    The FiA''s crest was at the top of the building, a few flags and Italy''s, and the banners of the 12th round, temporarily hung proudly along the facade.


    What caught Luca''s attention most, however, were the steps leading up to the entrance. They were wide, expansive, and slightly worn from years of heavy foot traffic. They reminded him of the steps leading into a high court, almost as if those who entered were on trial. And in some ways, maybe they were.


    He was now.


    Luca shifted his gaze to Mr. Ammerman and Mr. Ruben as they gathered everyone. They seemed just as unimpressed by the location as he was.


    He adjusted his nose mask, feeling a sharp sense of awareness and insecurity settle over him.


    This was Italy.


    And let''s be honest¡ªof all places, this wasn''t the country that would be thrilled to see Luca Rennick, was it?


    His sharp eyes above the mask scanned the road behind them where a parade of people were marching down the street. They were beating drums and dressed in uniforms of brown and red. A very weird color combination.


    Those who were beating drums were organized and uniformed while others waved flags and chanted, their voices carrying over the traffic. Some had their faces painted, others wore custom-made shirts with bold statements about their favorite drivers.


    "Madness," Luca heard one of the crew members mutter beside him.


    The most wildest Italian community, the Tifosi. Luca really didn''t want to think about them; he''d disliked them from the beginning even when he was little.


    Mr. Ammermann merely adjusted his watch and gestured toward the entrance. "Ignore it. Let''s move."


    Luca refocused on the building ahead as they began climbing the steps. The wide, imposing staircase stretched before them, each step bringing them closer to the next phase of their carefully crafted plan. Mr. Ruben threw an arm around Luca''s shoulder.


    The second phase would most likely be termed as the most useless phase. Because in truth, it''d look useful, but it''d be not.


    According to Trampos'' strategy, Luca would formally apply and take his tests here at the sub-quarters. Everything would appear routine like just another driver going through the mandatory medical clearance.


    But the moment he completed the initial rounds, they would leave as expected, only to diverge from the anticipated course. They would... head to an entirely different facility.


    Not another FIA sub-quarter, but a private, FIA-approved hospital in Milan.


    You see, Mr. Fisher had been in the motorsport industry long enough to recognize that Luca''s previous test delays were not random.


    Something¡ªor someone¡ªwas working against them. And if Luca were to retake the tests under the same circumstances, the outcome would likely be no different. That was why Mr. Fisher had devised this strategy, a strategy to outmaneuver whatever hidden force was interfering with Luca''s results.


    The hospital they had in mind, Clinica San Cataldo, was located in the Porta Vittoria district of Milan. Unlike typical FIA medical centers, this was a private institution, yet it held FIA approval. This was an unusual and rare status.


    The reason for this dated back seventeen years, to an era when the previous generation of Formula racing was in full swing. During an Italian Grand Prix that was supposed to be the decisive battle between Squadra Corse and Nevada HanSama, tensions between fans reached a boiling point.


    Surprisingly, the worst of the violence didn''t even unfold in Monza, where the race took place, but right here in Milan.


    Chaos erupted in the streets, leading to injuries on a scale the FIA had never anticipated. The sheer number of casualties overwhelmed the Federation''s medical resources, and since the violence was ultimately linked to their sport, they were forced to take responsibility for the victims'' treatment and expenses.


    Clinica San Cataldo had been, and still remained, one of the finest hospitals in the region. With its extensive medical wards, cutting-edge facilities, and top-tier equipment, it was the only institution capable of handling the crisis at the time.


    In the aftermath, the FIA sought to formalize its relationship with the hospital for easier access, integrating it into its network of approved medical centers.


    Though the violence had long since faded into history, Clinica San Cataldo retained its FIA-approved status. And today, that designation would serve Luca well.


    Of all the FIA sub-quarters in Italy, Clinica San Cataldo was the last place anyone would expect Luca to be. And with him having simultaneously taken tests at the FIA sub-quarters they had just visited, no one would question. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Everyone would assume that the sub-quarters was his chosen facility, until Trampos emerged with Luca''s official test results from another "FIA-approved facility."


    Clinica San Cataldo was known for its speed, accuracy, and efficiency. If its status as a private institution was truly independent, then Trampos and Luca might have just outmaneuvered the FIA itself. Your journey continues with My Virtual Library Empire


    After a long drive through Milan''s bustling streets, they finally arrived. The hospital stood before them, a pristine structure of white and glass, its architecture both modern and complex at the same time.


    Surrounded by older buildings with more traditional designs, it was clear that Clinica San Cataldo had undergone significant reconstruction to fit the evolving world around it.


    Luca smiled as they approached the entrance. Now, this was the facility where he would take his real tests.

 Chapter 206 The Road To Championship Begins

    The application and first round of tests went smoothly, and the doctors at Clinica San Cataldo assured Luca that everything would be handled professionally. They promised to keep the screening process airtight, preventing any tampering¡ªwhether from external forces or even Luca and his team themselves.


    They returned to the facility in high spirits, satisfied with how things had gone.


    From now on, Luca would be visiting the hospital daily, since their process was quick and efficient. As for the FIA sub-quarters, he''d only need to show up every two or three days.


    In between those days, he''d be drilling in the single-seater provided for him.


    That very afternoon, the car arrived. It was rolled right into the front of the main building as if it were a rented sedan being dropped off. Find your next read at My Virtual Library Empire


    Or at least, that''s what Luca thought at first.


    Then he realized that it wasn''t rolled or towed. It was driven.


    The moment the Dallara came to a stop, some bloke jumped out and strode straight to Mr. Ruben, shaking his hand like they were old pals. He was wearing a plain, all-black racing suit, completely unbranded¡ªjust like the Dallara itself.


    Luca stepped forward to get a better look.


    The car was jet black from nose to rear wing, both its primary and secondary colors merging into one. The only break in the darkness was a soft gray accent, just enough to add a touch of aesthetic. But other than that, this machine was a shadow on wheels.


    No team name. No branding. Just a SomberCore-powered Dallara, owned by no team, carrying nothing but raw potential.


    Luca leaned in, studying the machine he''d be training with before his real Trampos Dallara arrived from Berlin.


    From the cockpit layout to the chassis, everything seemed identical to his own¡ªexcept for one detail. Everywhere that should have had Trampos'' emblem was painted black.


    This wasn''t a car. It was a goddamn specimen. A test machine, stripped of identity.


    Luca narrowed his eyes, wondering if it had even been maintained properly.


    This was a Dallara from a private freelancing company¡ªnot a factory team. And if that was the case¡­


    Surely, they wouldn''t take care of their machines like actual teams did.


    Right?


    Mr. Ruben had finished discussing the important details and was now casually chatting with the man who had just climbed out of the Dallara''s cockpit.


    Mid-conversation, he gestured toward Luca, who was still studying the machine.


    "That''s him."


    The man turned to look. "Him?"


    "Yes."


    Then, with sudden enthusiasm, the bloke called out¡ª "Oi, Luca!"¡ªbefore striding toward him. "Come on, let me give you the keys to this bad boy!"


    Luca turned, puzzled. "Keys?"


    He barely had time to react before the "keys" turned out to be a tight, bone-squeezing hug.


    "Now you''ll be able to drive it!" the man said cheerfully, grinning wide¡ªhis white teeth practically the only bright thing about him, considering the all-black racing suit he wore.


    "I''m a fan of Trampos," he added, stepping back slightly. "Believe me, that''s something rare in the country you''re in now."


    Luca, still slightly stiff from the unexpected hug, pushed himself free and instead extended a handshake.


    "Thanks for delivering it. I hope it''s insured?"


    The man puffed his chest proudly. "Of course!"


    Then, just as quickly, his expression fell.


    "That doesn''t mean you should crash it."


    "Of course," Luca replied, mimicking him.


    Afterwards, Luca decided to analyse the car with his system to be sure.


    [ANALYZING CAR''S DATA]


    [Car''s status generating...]


    [... Generation complete]


    [Vehicle Specifications:


    Brand: Dallara


    Model: F2 04


    Engine Type: Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit


    Weight: 740 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h (0 km/h)


    Acceleration: 3.5 sec


    Max Power: 620 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 30%


    Tire Condition: Worn


    Telemetry Status: Inactive


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    --------------


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    The next morning was quiet, calm, and crisp. Luca woke up to the soft, mellow ding-dong of his system, signaling the start of his Daily Routine.


    The gym at the facility was just as commodious as the track outside, and with the limited personnel around, it was entirely reserved for him alone. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    So, Luca exercised in peace, cycling through every piece of equipment he could make use of. He kept his session efficient, only taking a brief amount of time to simulate one race in the sim room adjacent to the gym.


    Once done, he returned to his room, continued his Daily Routine¡ªshowered, changed into team gear, and headed down for breakfast that had been prepared.


    By 11:15, everyone, including Luca, was ready to begin drills that were expected of them while they were there. The crew had spent the previous evening washing and fine-tuning the Dallara, ensuring it was in good condition. They had also conducted test runs and made necessary adjustments, also careful not to damage the company''s asset.


    However, in the rush of the sudden trip, no one¡ªnot even Luca¡ªhad managed to bring a Trampos Veststar of his size and helmet for him to use during training. Sure, they could head out and buy one, but¡­


    This was Italy.


    Instead, they settled for a non-branded racing suit, the kind provided by the training facility itself. It was tailored to match the colors of Italy¡ªred, green, and white.


    Luca found it amusing. Dressed in full Italian colors, he looked like he was gearing up for the Olympics or a World Cup competition, rather than motorsport training.


    White was the dominant color, covering most of the suit. Green traced the shoulders and sleeves, while red ran along the sides and lower legs in sleek, sharp accents. The facility''s logo¡ªa minimalist tricolor emblem¡ªsat on the upper chest and back.


    Fitted, breathable, and aerodynamic.


    Luca donned it the same way Ansel did, fastening the zipper up to his neck. He grabbed the white helmet, tucked it under his arm, and set out for the track.


    Everyone was already waiting for Luca, dressed in their Trampos Veststars and helmets, the crew buzzing with quiet anticipation. The Dallara sat at the center of attention, almost calm in its presence. But Luca quickly noticed something a bit different about it.


    Someone had pasted a bumper sticker on both sides of the car¡ªa fiery #21¡ªhis number. It was an obvious, noticeable touch, where his official number would''ve been. It made him smile, amused by the gesture.


    As he walked closer, the crew member who had put the stickers on the car explained that she had traveled with a lot of stickers and just decided to throw them on. She even handed him a smaller #21 sticker, perfectly sized for his helmet, and offered to help him apply it.


    "Nice," Luca said with thanks. It was something at least. He was a driver of Trampos, not Italy, anything related to Trampos would do.


    He turned to approach Mr. Ruben to get the rundown for the day, curious if Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton had passed on any additional instructions.


    But as he walked toward Ruben, his eyes caught sight of Mr. Ammermann, the doctor, lounging in a relaxing steel chair. He was dressed casually in a white shirt and jeans, looking thoroughly comfortable, almost out of place among the bustling crew.


    Luca couldn''t blame Mr. Ammermann. This was kind of an early holiday for him.


    "Ol'' man Grant says he wants you training for understeer and power through turns," Ruben said, snapping Luca back to the present. "That''s what Erik is doing right now, so let''s get to it!"


    The crew cheered softly as they helped Luca get strapped in securely to the black Dallara.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Dallara (F2 04)]


    It doesn''t even feel like the F2 04, Luca said inwardly as he engaged the engine.


    As tradition, he''d make one or two warm up laps and a third power lap.

 Chapter 207 Luca And Isabella

    By their fourth day in Italy, Luca and his team had fully settled into their routine, executing it smoothly and efficiently.


    Clinica San Cataldo was even faster than expected, and Luca was already heading in for his final round of tests. Meanwhile, at the Federation sub-quarters, he was still in the second round.


    The black Dallara was holding up fine.


    Luca considered it "alright"¡ªit performed exactly as a Dallara F2 04 should, but something about its interior felt different, weaker even. The lack of Trampos'' emblems and sponsor insignias stripped away a part of his drive. Those logos weren''t just decoration; they were a symbol of pride, fueling his passion every time he hit the track and every time he engaged with a rival.


    Still, he made do and focused on drilling oversteer management next, corner entry, and exit techniques. Today, like every other day, he would simulate, drive, and drill even more.


    But today was different. He was pushing himself harder than ever, driving as if there was a prize waiting for him at the end of each lap. And in a way, there was.


    Mr. Schafer wasn''t making things easy.


    When Isabella told her father about Luca''s plan to visit their hotel, Mr. Schafer flat-out refused. In fact, he shut down any suggestion that involved his daughter leaving his side to stay with Luca¡ªor Luca coming anywhere near his private space.


    Luca found Isabella''s report on her father very hilarious. He''d almost forgotten that he and Mr. Schafer weren''t exactly on good terms.


    But Luca believed he knew the man well. And a quiet, empty track facility like this? It was bound to intrigue someone like Mr. Schafer¡ªespecially given his bummed-out legal situation. If the city felt too suffocating, maybe a change of scenery would do him good.


    So, Luca invited both Isabella and her father to the facility. And he had every right to¡ªafter all, the place was practically empty. Trampos had yet to fully occupy it.


    Surprisingly, Mr. Schafer accepted.


    Grudgingly, of course.


    After all, he did want to see Luca. The very young 18-year-old he did some foul play in the past, now just one race away from being Formula 2 champion.


    Evening arrived quickly, a soft, cool breeze gliding over the facility as the sky deepened into twilight.


    When Isabella called to say they were approaching, Luca left his room and headed downstairs, where Mr. Ruben and Mr. Ammermann sat in home shirts and shorts, sipping soft drinks.


    Their contrasting postures were almost amusing. Mr. Ruben lounged back with his legs propped up on the table, arms crossed as he laughed at one of Mr. Ammermann''s jokes.


    In contrast, Mr. Ammermann sat with his legs crossed neatly over one another, his feet still in slippers. The difference extended even to their appearance as Mr. Ruben''s legs were thickly covered in hair, while Mr. Ammermann''s were far less so.


    Luca greeted them before making his way toward the facility''s entrance, just as the gate swung open.


    A gray Toyota, guided by the facility''s functionaries, carefully rolled inside, navigating the curve with ease before merging onto the track. As it approached Luca, its headlights flashed playfully before slowing down.


    Luca instinctively stepped back, watching as the car smoothly drove onto the curb before coming to a halt.


    From the side, Mr. Ammermann and Mr. Ruben turned to see who the visitors were, curiosity evident in their expressions.


    Naturally, Luca assumed Isabella was in the passenger seat, so with his best chivalrous intent, he stepped forward and opened the door for her.


    Big mistake.


    The moment he saw who was actually in the seat, his heart nearly stopped.


    Mr. Schafer. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Isabella, on the other hand, was in the driver''s seat, and judging by the amused glint in her eyes, she found every second of it funny!


    Luca immediately took a huge step back, his face burning with embarrassment.


    "I''m sorry, sir," he blurted out, bowing his head. Find exclusive stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    Mr. Schafer''s frown deepened. He had already looked displeased the moment he spotted Luca standing on the pavement. But after watching him reach for his door like some personal chauffeur? That only made it worse.


    With a slow, deliberate motion, Mr. Schafer pushed the door open wider and stepped out.


    "Try not to make such a mistake again," he said flatly, his sharp gaze lingering on Luca.


    Luca swallowed hard. Goddamnit.


    Who the hell lets their daughter drive them?!


    Mr. Schafer adjusted his jean jacket¡ªsomething that suited an old fellow like him. He scanned the surroundings, confirming what Luca had said over the phone.


    This place was empty. A four-star Formula racing facility, nearly deserted.


    "IT CANNOT BE TRUE!" Mr. Ruben shouted the moment he spotted Mr. Schafer. He hurriedly dropped his feet from the table, sprang up, and sprinted toward the car. "Gaffer!"


    Mr. Schafer turned, instantly recognizing him. "Ruben? What in the world?"


    Congratulations to Luca¡ªhe''d just reunited long-lost friends. Well, more like a long-lost mentor and student.


    He watched the two men greet each other, all the gestures and expressions that came with old bonds rekindled.


    Luca shifted his gaze to the lady still sitting in the car. Isabella was smiling, so he smiled back, leaning against the open door frame.


    "Welcome," he said.


    "Thank you," Isabella replied, unbuckling her seatbelt and exhaling deeply.


    "You know how to drive?"


    "Y¡ªyes. My dad taught me."


    "You''re... not up to age," Luca pointed out.


    Isabella rolled her eyes as she opened the door and stepped out. "Back in the UK. It''s totally legal."


    Luca sighed, shutting Mr. Schafer''s door before glancing over at him and Mr. Ruben, who was already introducing him to Mr. Ammermann without wasting a second.


    "How do they know each other?" Isabella asked.


    Luca shrugged. No clue. But he liked it. Maybe, just maybe, it could soften Mr. Schafer''s attitude toward him, making access to Isabella a little easier.


    Luca and Isabella still hadn''t figured out how to navigate whatever was brewing between them. So, there they stood with Luca, his brain fogged with the urge to touch even the slightest part of her skin, and Isabella, expecting the same embrace. But instead of acting on it, they just talked, letting the tension simmer beneath the surface.


    "Isabella, come over here," Mr. Schafer called, ready to introduce his daughter to Mr. Ruben and Mr. Ammermann.


    Luca lingered by the side, slipping his hands into his pockets after waving to the functionaries heading back to the security building. He echoed his thanks across the track.


    Glancing back at Mr. Schafer, he noticed the old man had already taken a seat with the others, while Isabella was making her way back toward him.


    Exactly as planned.


    If old Mr. Schafer got caught up in everything happening here, then Luca could have Isabella all to himself.

 Chapter 208 Luca And Isabella. 2

    Luca''s plan was unfolding even better than he had expected. He had so much time with Isabella, and surprisingly, Mr. Schafer was in high spirits, laughing and joking with such unusual enthusiasm that it almost seemed like he was laughing his health away.


    Building by building, Luca showed Isabella around, taking her through every space reserved for Trampos¡ªand not Avidavis. It was the only thing he could do to ease the tension now that they had caught up on the more personal discussions they had saved for an in-person talk.


    By the time full darkness settled over the sky, Mr. Schafer still hadn''t given Isabella any sign of when they would be leaving. Not even a simple heads-up.


    And just as Luca had begun to suspect, Mr. Schafer decided to stay the night¡ªa decision that came right after Mr. Ruben made the suggestion.


    For the men, this change of plans was easy. For Isabella, a young lady? Not so much.


    She was clearly unimpressed with the decision, voicing her discontent, but it didn''t change anything.


    Luca stepped in to ease the situation, casually mentioning that one of the female crew members had spare clothes and a coat Isabella could use, given the cold.


    That seemed to settle things, and with that assurance, Mr. Schafer dismissed any further complaints, deciding they would leave the next day. He then seamlessly returned to his conversation with Mr. Ammermann, Mr. Ruben, and a few of the functionaries who had joined in.


    Of course, in reality, there was no female crew member with spare clothes. The clothes in question were Luca''s own unisex pieces he had never worn, part of the huge bulk of clothes he packed along. He could only hope Isabella''s body could at least hold them up because they would definitely be oversized on her.


    There was no way he was telling Mr. Schafer this, and there was even less of a chance that Isabella would agree to wear some random girl''s clothes.


    Luca led her to his room, quickly explaining how everything worked before leaving her to freshen up while he headed downstairs.


    Under the dark sky, yet beneath the building lights, anyone in the facility could see Luca hanging out with the crew members. They were spending the last hour after dinner and before bedtime, talking, joking, and enjoying the same sitting area where Mr. Ruben and Mr. Ammermann had lounged when Isabella and her father arrived. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca felt like the oldest in the group, though that wasn''t true.


    The oldest was 21, the youngest 16, and at 19, he was right in the middle. Yet, everyone looked up to him, treating him with respect as he led the casual conversation.


    Some admired him as a driver, wishing they had the talent to follow in his footsteps. Others simply found him captivating and attractive, whether for his achievements or the role he played as Trampos'' main driver.


    In truth, it wasn''t Luca''s age or experience that gave him this authority¡ªit was his achievements, the respect he had earned, and his role that made him someone to be admired. If it weren''t for that, he''d be just like the rest of them.


    Isabella made her way to the down floor, offering a brief greeting to the men still deep in conversation in the lounge before stepping into the hallway that led to the exit, where the facility''s lights stretched into the night.


    Under those lights, she could see Luca on his feet, telling what must have been an amusing story, his energy drawing everyone in. The others sat around him, listening, laughter occasionally breaking the air.


    She lingered for a moment, watching the scene unfold, but the moment didn''t last long. Suddenly, the group stirred, shuffling to their feet as they turned toward the door, ready to call it a night.


    She stepped aside to let them pass before heading toward Luca, who had already spotted her in the crowd.


    "You came to get some fresh air?" Luca asked just as a cold breeze brushed past.


    Isabella shook her head and dug her right hand into the oversized coat she wore. She had folded its bottom so it wouldn''t drag on the ground. On Luca, that same coat stopped right at his shins¡ªexactly where it should.


    She pulled out her car keys and pointed at the vehicle beside them, still parked on the side of the pavement. It sat in the darkness like a predator lying in wait, its presence almost threatening, as if Luca were within its sights.


    "I wanted to warm up the car and park it properly, I guess," Isabella said.


    Luca nodded thoughtfully and gestured toward the car. "I''ll help you navigate," he offered.


    They walked over, and Isabella moved to the driver''s side, but before she could open the door, Luca spoke up.


    "I''m still surprised you can drive," he remarked. "And you even have a license, right?" His eyes studied hers.


    Isabella smiled and shook her head slowly. "It''s still being processed. You know, I just turned seventeen not too long ago."


    Luca stared at her, stunned. "Are you kidding me? You''re driving without a license? And in a country where you need to be eighteen? What if you get stopped?"


    Isabella shrugged, tapping the tinted window. "The windows are dark. And I drive so well, no one would even notice it''s a kid behind the wheel," she said, almost proudly.


    Luca still couldn''t wrap his head around it. He had yet to drive a normal car himself, and here she was, weaving through traffic, stopping at lights, smoothly maneuvering through crossings.


    "You don''t believe me?" Isabella said, glancing at the dark track ahead. "Get in. Let me show you."


    Luca hesitated before exhaling and opening the same door he had held for Mr. Schafer earlier that day. Sliding into the passenger seat, he was immediately hit with the scent of fine leather.


    Isabella strangely took a moment before getting in. Luca heard the back door open first, followed by the rustle of fabric.


    When she finally slid into the driver''s seat, she was wearing an oversized shirt that reached her knees.. Luca quickly turned his gaze to the dark track ahead, pretending not to notice.


    His mind lingered on the shirt. He had never even worn it, let alone had it tailored to fit him properly, so it was practically humongous on Isabella.


    The car''s mellow interior lights flickered on as they both shut their doors. Luca didn''t bother with his seatbelt, but Isabella did, the strap pressing against the loose fabric, outlining her frame. Luca forced himself to ignore it.


    Isabella turned the key in the ignition, the engine purring to life. She glanced at him with a small, triumphant smile, as if expecting praise.


    "You just started the car. Drive," Luca said flatly.


    Isabella chuckled, switched on the headlights, and pressed the gas. The tires rolled forward, and soon, they were cruising down the empty track.


    Luca glanced around, then at the side mirror, just to confirm¡ªyes, Isabella was really the one driving. He then turned to her and a grin slowly spread across his face.


    "I knew it," he said.


    "You knew what?" Isabella asked, eyes locked on the road in concentration, though there was nothing ahead but endless asphalt.


    "You''re driving like a rookie."


    "Luca, I AM a rookie."


    She was clinging to the steering wheel as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Her socked feet hovered anxiously over both the brake and accelerator, shifting back and forth like she was expecting an emergency stop at any second. She wasn''t speeding, but her posture made it seem like she was handling a high-speed chase. Read latest chapters at My Virtual Library Empire


    It was obvious. She had confidence, but she was still an amateur.


    "I guess so. But from the way you talked, I was expecting some Hitman-level driving."


    "Give me a year, and you''ll see," Isabella said with a mischievous smile. "This is just the beginning. Next year, you wouldn''t dare skip your seatbelt. I''ll be driving so close to danger, they''ll make another Transporter movie in my name."


    Luca smirked, shaking his head. He always found it hilarious how girls sometimes turn out to be unintentionally funny, just not when they were actually trying to be.


    As Isabella drove through the dark track, the car moved steadily, its headlights cutting through the vast emptiness ahead. The road stretched on, silent and still, with no traffic, no streetlights, no pedestrians¡ªjust them and the open space of the facility''s track. The tires hummed softly against the cold asphalt, and a steady rhythm slowly filled the quiet cabin.


    At 500 meters in, Isabella''s grip on the wheel loosened slightly. Her confidence grew with each passing second, though her posture still hinted at uncertainty.


    Isabella glanced at Luca as she covered about half a kilometer. "Should I speed up?"


    "Don''t."


    "Maybe it''ll force you to put on your seatbelt. I feel like you''re insulting my driving¡ªcalling it weak."


    Luca shrugged, watching her posture as she stared at him, waiting for a response. "I mean¡­ it is."


    "Luca."


    "Don''t worry, you''ll get stronger."


    His words were punctuated by a sudden brake. Isabella let go of the wheel, turning to him with a challenging glare. "Why don''t you show me how to drive? You''re a PROFESSIONAL DRIVER, after all."


    Luca wasn''t one to back down from a challenge. With a smirk, he gave a slight bow, then opened the door and stepped onto the track.


    He glanced around, trying to figure out which section they were in. This part of the road was nearly pitch-black, except for a few scattered lights. Leaving his door open, he walked around the car, past the headlights, the cold breeze sweeping through his hair.


    Isabella''s eyes followed him until he reached her door. He pulled it open and extended his hand to help her out. She stepped out and hurried to the passenger seat, shivering from the cold. Seconds later, they had successfully switched places.


    "Now, drive. Let me see what you can do."


    Luca chuckled, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a race. Driving a commercial car¡ªsomething he''d never done¡ªshould be easy, right?


    He settled into the seat, gripping the wheel. The engine was still running. A small part of him half-expected to hear [SYNCHRONIZING HOST¡­]¡ªbut nothing came. The Formula 1 System was really true to its word that it had nothing to do with anything but F1 cars.


    What can be so difficult about a normal car? Luca thought, scanning the dashboard. There''s a brake, an accelerator, a steering wheel¡­ He noted the gear shifter, the digital speedometer, and the turn signal stalk¡ªnothing remotely like a paddle shifter or DRS activation button. This should be easy.


    "It seems you''re confused," Isabella said smugly, folding her arms.


    Luca pressed the brake, mistaking it for the accelerator. Instead of surging forward, the car jerked to an abrupt stop.


    Realizing his mistake, he quickly adjusted, pressing the accelerator instead.


    Isabella nearly laughed¡ªuntil the car suddenly leaped forward, pinning her against the seat. She was immediately grateful she had her seatbelt on.


    Luca was now driving. Not a Dallara, not a high-speed Formula 1 car¡ªbut a modern-day Toyota sedan, with a girl seated beside him.

 Chapter 209 Luca And Isabella. 3

    After a minute of driving, Luca scoffed in amusement, chuckling to himself for ever doubting his ability.


    Driving this car felt almost too simple. The dashboard controls were clearly marked, designed, and calibrated in a way that even a kindergartener could understand.


    Maybe he should sign up for driving school right away. Surely, he''d pass with ease. Just look at how smoothly he was handling his first time behind a traditional round wheel!


    Luca bit his lip. Or was it just because he was barely moving?


    The speedometer read 35 km/h¡ªwas this even considered driving? Even in driving school, they''d make him go faster than this.


    He was going so slow that he barely felt the turns. The track was wide, and he was positioned right in the center, making it impossible to even misjudge a curve. It reminded him of his earlier thought about how the controls were simple enough for a child. And now, driving like this, he felt like a child.


    "Should I speed up?" he asked, mostly to gauge Isabella''s thoughts. It wasn''t like he actually planned on accelerating through this pitch-black track with barely any street or floodlights.


    "Sure," Isabella said, catching him off guard. "There''s no one on the road, nothing. You''re driving so slow, I feel like we''re in the safety car, escorting a parade lap."


    Luca shook his head. "I''m not speeding up, Isabella. It''s way too dangerous," he said, glancing around. "The main building has the most lights on, so I''ll keep driving until we reach it. Then we can find a place to park, like you wanted."


    She sighed, muttering, "Fine."


    Occasionally, Luca would steal a glance at her, trying to refresh her image in his mind. This time, she caught him.


    "Do you have a nickname?" he asked in defense. In truth, he was curious. A childhood nickname often revealed something about a person''s past, and he wanted to know what kind of child she had been. Besides, even Mr. Schafer had never called her anything sweeter than the usual ''dear.''


    "Nope. Everyone just calls me Isabella," she answered.


    "That''s impossible... actually, it''s just wrong," Luca countered.


    "How so?"


    "The name Isabella has countless nickname variations," Luca pointed out. "Issy, Isa, Belle, Bella, Abigail, Ella, Abby... and so on."


    "Hmm," Isabella hummed thoughtfully. "That''s true. But no one''s ever given me a nickname. Everyone calls me Isabella. You should too¡ªdon''t call me any of those."


    Luca slowed the car even more. "Nicknames don''t have to come from your actual name," he said. "I could give you one based on how I see you."


    Isabella laughed heartily, her voice filling the car. "Oh, so you want to name me? Alright. How do you see me?" she asked, glancing at Luca. "What do I look like to you? What do I remind you of?"


    Luca shrugged, keeping one hand on the wheel now. "A flower, a muffin... a cupcake?"


    Isabella burst into laughter, each suggestion amusing her more than the last.


    "Brownie... pie?"


    She finally calmed down, wiping away a few tears. "Pie???"


    "Yeah."


    "What kind of pie?"


    Luca shrugged again. "The good kind, I guess. The one with a fine brown crust."


    "But I''m not brown. You''re browner than I am," she pointed out.


    Luca glanced at her skin, reconsidering.


    In reality, Isabella wasn''t brown-skinned. She was light-skinned, with a soft peach undertone. But under the car''s dim yellow lights, she looked brown.


    And brain-fogged Luca had been noticing her under this lighting all along.


    "You... you look brown right now," he muttered, gesturing vaguely toward her thighs before quickly refocusing on the road.


    A long, awkward silence settled in the car.


    Luca decided to just suck it up.


    After driving for a while, Isabella spoke again, and her words did nothing to ease the tension.


    "I''ll be sleeping with you tonight," she stated¡ªthough it sounded like a question, too.


    "What?" Luca''s head snapped in her direction.


    "My father told me to take one of the bed sofas in the lounge, but I definitely won''t," Isabella explained. "So¡­ I''ll be sleeping with you, right?"


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    Luca wasn''t upset at the idea itself¡ªshe''d already taken a short nap in his room earlier¡ªbut rather, he was upset at the fact that Mr. Schafer would even suggest his own daughter sleep in an open lounge with no privacy.


    Since she''d already taken a short siesta in his room, she could of course also take the night there.


    "Yeah," Luca answered, his voice distant as his eyes suddenly locked onto a figure standing directly in the car''s path. He slowed the vehicle to a complete stop just before the hood could touch the person''s knees.


    The figure turned out to be one of the security functionaries. He lifted a flashlight, shining it into the car. "What''re you two doing driving around this late? It''s almost eleven."


    "We were just looking for a place to park the car," Luca replied. From where they were, he finally spotted the main building. It was a short distance away.


    Not wanting to waste more time, Luca handed over the car keys. "Can you park it for us?"


    The security guard gave a nod. Luca reached into the backseat, grabbed the coat, and wrapped it around Isabella before helping her out of the car.


    Together, they walked across the wide, empty track toward the building''s entrance where their night had officially begun, the cold wind whipping around them.


    For a moment, they stood there, watching the security guard get into the car and drive it around the next corner. A few seconds later, he reappeared. Luca jogged over, retrieved the keys, and thanked him before returning them to the car''s owner. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    With one last glance at the darkened track, they turned and stepped inside.


    They made it up to Luca''s room to settle in for the night.


    Luca couldn''t ignore the fact that Isabella had positioned herself on one side of the bed, clearly leaving space for someone else on the other side. Surely, she didn''t expect them to share the bed?


    His body was growing uncomfortably warm tonight, and he knew it was best to put some distance between them. In the UK, just like how 17-year-olds could legally obtain a driver''s license, plenty of other things were permitted at that age. But they weren''t in the UK¡ªthey were in Italy.


    Not that it mattered. Even if they were in London, Luca wasn''t about to take any chances.


    Without a word, he grabbed some sheets and a blanket and made his way to the lounge to sleep instead.

 Chapter 210 The Road To Championship Begins. 2

    Luca slept in the next morning, exhausted from staying up late the night before. When he had first come to the lounge to choose a sofa bed, he noticed that Mr. Schafer had occupied the other one.


    It seemed that after everyone had returned to their rooms, the old man had finally decided to get some rest. But before that, he arrogantly demanded to know where Isabella was. Luca wasted no time explaining the switch, making sure his tone made it very clear that he disliked Mr. Schafer''s original idea of letting her sleep here.


    To his dismay, Mr. Schafer seemed pleased to have some time alone with him¡ªtime that Luca desperately needed for sleep. But, of course, the old man didn''t care. What started as a simple conversation quickly turned into a drawn-out lecture.


    Mr. Schafer recounted every detail of his legal fallout, even though he knew Isabella had already told Luca everything. But instead of letting that stop him, he insisted on telling the story his way, making sure to frame it in a way that wouldn''t make him seem weak.


    Unfortunately for him, Luca had already seen right through him. He knew exactly the kind of man Mr. Schafer was.


    Luca had once believed that when people aged, their character would mellow out¡ªthat they''d naturally become more neutral, less driven by arrogance or personal grudges. But clearly, that wasn''t always the case. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Either Mr. Schafer had refused to change with age, or he was simply so rotten in his youth that even his older self remained the same.


    Prideful. Arrogant. Unrepentant.


    Mr. Schafer claimed he had left Miles'' team on "mutual" terms, but Isabella had already told Luca the truth¡ªhe was blatantly sacked.


    He then went on to complain that the FIA thought he was too old to run Grey-Husson''s Academy and its programs when, in reality, he had been stripped of his license after being found guilty of corruption.


    Now, here he was, tangled in legal battles in Italy, still clinging to his old grudges.


    "I regret taking that lad up to the skies. I''ll make sure I bring him down one day," he muttered bitterly while ranting about his feud with Miles and his former team.


    When Luca questioned whether Mr. Schafer felt any regret for the way he had wronged him in the past, the old man didn''t waver. Without hesitation, he dismissed the idea entirely, saying "no" and standing firm in his decision.


    Nine months had passed, yet the man who had nearly sabotaged his future still refused to acknowledge any wrongdoing¡ªlet alone offer an apology. And now, on top of everything, he was robbing Luca of his much-needed sleep.


    Frustration simmered beneath Luca''s exhaustion as he cast a glance at the wall clock. Without another word, he ended the one-sided conversation, pulling the blanket over himself and shutting Mr. Schafer out for the night.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    Back in Berlin, Trampos had begun loading their trucks in preparation for their transport to Italy for the 12th round of the season. Luca and the rest, already in Milan, expected their arrival by the end of the week or at the very latest, the start of the next.


    Despite anticipating their arrival, Luca and his team still had their routines to maintain. He had already completed his tests at Clinica San Cataldo, with results expected in the coming days.


    However, for the sub-quarters, he was only about to take the second-to-last phase of the test, meaning there was still a long road ahead before those results could even begin processing.


    By 7 a.m., Isabella and Mr. Schafer were outside, ready to leave. Luca, still sluggish from lack of sleep, made sure to see them off despite his exhaustion.


    Everyone had suggested that they could delay their departure until noon, but Mr. Schafer had woken up in a foul mood, muttering under his breath that Luca disrespected him.


    No one challenged his decision further¡ªnot even Isabella, who simply got dressed in the same clothes she had arrived in and took her place in the driver''s seat after greeting off Luca.


    Mr. Ruben, Luca, and a few crew members stood by, watching as Isabella carefully reversed the car and drove out through the large gate, which a security guard held open for them.


    Luca turned to Mr. Ruben, who still had a faint smile on his face.


    "How do you know Mr. Schafer?" Luca asked.


    "Ahh! I''m glad you asked," Mr. Ruben said, turning slightly. "I used to be one of his young crew engineers¡ªjust like how these tiny birds are to me now," he added, gesturing to the crew members still in their nightwear.


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    Luca raised a brow. "Mr. Schafer was a Chief Head Engineer?"


    "Yes, that too. He headed the engineering department of Haddock Racing back in the day and was once Nevada''s Team Principal," Mr. Ruben replied with a sigh, hands on his hips. "Great man. It''s sad to see how far he''s fallen now, and no one can come to his rescue."


    Luca was taken aback. Mr. Schafer had once been the equivalent of a Mr. Grant for a powerhouse team like Nevada HanSama? How had he ended up being driven around in a simple Toyota by his daughter?


    From Luca''s perspective, someone with that kind of career and achievements shouldn''t even be in his presence, let alone spending the night in the same lounge. Mr. Schafer was supposed to be the kind of man seen at the high-profile dinners and aboard luxury yachts Luca had just attended recently.


    And if that were the case, Isabella herself would be far more renowned¡ªsomeone unreachable.


    Was his downfall truly the result of a single fallout with Grey-Husson? Could that alone have dragged him into this state of dismay?


    Luca walked back toward the main building with Mr. Ruben, only to stop short when they found Mr. Ammermann blocking the entrance, casually sipping a creamy cup of coffee.


    "You must be ready, sir. I''ll go get dressed!" Luca said, saluting. They had a test to take today.


    "You''re not going today," Mr. Ammermann stated flatly, bringing Luca to an abrupt halt.


    "He''s not?" Mr. Ruben asked, raising an eyebrow.


    "I''m not?" Luca echoed in confusion.


    "Until the rest of the team returns, we''re holding off. I''m just glad we finished our REAL tests in Cataldo," Mr. Ammermann said, taking another sip of his coffee. "I just got some deep street news that some rival fans here have caught wind that you''re in Italy ahead of schedule."


    Luca glanced at Mr. Ruben, shrugging, still unsure of the point. "And that changes something?"


    Mr. Ammermann nodded.


    "It wasn''t hard for them to find out which facility you were attending. It''s a public place, and a few people have already confirmed seeing someone who looks like you there," he explained, exhaling deeply. "Until we have enough security with us, we''re not going back."


    Luca swallowed, his mind running through all sorts of things.


    Sensing the unease, Mr. Ruben stepped in, giving Luca''s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "Don''t worry. No one''s laying a finger on ya, okay?"


    Luca nodded firmly, though his spirits had dimmed. "Sure."


    Mr. Ruben turned to Mr. Ammermann with a smirk. "Besides, doc here is probably just saying all this because he''s too tired to go anywhere. Right, doc?"


    Mr. Ammermann chuckled, realizing it was best not to burden Luca with worries outside of the race. "Yeah," he said, feigning a yawn. "I need more sleep."


    "Alright, then!" Mr. Ruben clapped his hands together. "Everyone, go freshen up and be back down by 11! And we get that Dallara out here!"

 Chapter 211 The Road To Championship Begins. 3

    The 12th and final round was considered to have officially begun as soon as the influx of tourists and visitors into Italy grew significantly. People from far and wide, from every nation, arrived¡ªso long as they loved the sport, they made an effort to set foot on the very soil where champions would be crowned. Continue reading on My Virtual Library Empire


    As spectators, pundits, and fans poured in, so did the teams. All twenty-five teams from the top two divisions¡ªten from Formula 1 and fifteen from Formula 2¡ªhad officially checked in for the Italian Mega Prix.


    While some teams were based in Milan, others stayed in Monza, Rome, or other high-end locations, ensuring they had the best accommodations to prepare for the final race.


    Those still in the title fight demanded five-star luxury to maintain focus, while even the teams out of contention expected nothing less. After all, this was the last race of the season, the final chapter of a year-long journey across the globe. Everyone deserved to experience it in absolute comfort and style.


    Luca was thrilled to see Trampos'' massive trucks rolling in, resembling a military unit returning to its garrison. The transportation team and half of the engineering department had finally arrived.


    At least, now we must be enough to get some pastries in the shelves, Luca thought.


    AV Motorsport also arrived that day as well, filling up the other part of the facility.


    That same man in the black racing suit showed up later that day to reclaim his company''s asset.


    The crew had already peeled off Luca''s #21 fiery bumper stickers from the sides of the Dallara and his helmet, restoring the car to its original, bland, unbranded state.


    The man admired the single-seater, speaking to it as if it could respond. Luca personally thanked him, acknowledging that the car was like any other F2 04¡ªbalanced, sustainable, and efficient¡ªall the qualities expected of a Formula 2 standard chassis.


    The fellow took his leave after greeting the rest of the crew which he claimed to be a fan of, and taking a look at Trampos'' own car parts that were dismantled. He drove away in his black Dallara which seemed very odd to Luca.


    Luca then remembered how the streets and roads were filled with promotional material for the 12th round. It was most likely no one would even stop him¡ªas long as he never sped up. They might even celebrate him as a million dollar machine like that, driven in the streets to wherever he was taking it must be a spectacle.


    Two days later, Trampos'' coach buses finally arrived, carrying the main team. It was already dark, but that didn''t dampen the moment. The five buses rolled to a stop on the cold, fogged tarmac beside the main building, their headlights flicking off one by one.


    Luca, along with the rest of the crew, headed down to greet them, ready to help with their luggage.


    This was full attendance¡ªevery Trampos personnel, from the newly hired rookies to the heads of all departments, had come to Italy for the final race of the season.


    No one was left behind. On November 28th, every single one of them would be present at Autodromo di Lombardia, not just to do their jobs but to roar in support of Luca and Haas'' victory.


    Speaking of Haas, Luca was very, very delighted to see him. Luca felt a strange wave of strength and confidence surge through him upon seeing Haas disembark from the bus.


    Erik Haas might not be one of the spectacles on the grid, but Luca still liked his confidence, and he tapped from it every second he had the chance.


    Luca had this feeling that if Haas were outstandingly good, he might have turned into one of those rivals he didn''t fancy.


    So, it seemed the levelness of his driving quality was like a nerf to his firm, stoic character. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After welcoming Haas, Luca moved on to Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton. They asked him how he had been handling himself for the past weeks and if the tests had gone according to plan.


    Luca responded that he was fine, explaining he''d been driving well and was looking forward to more drills in the days left before the race on Saturday.


    Next, he explained to them why he hadn''t gone to the subquarters again and that he''d need some security before making it through into the building again to keep up their misleading plan.


    As for Clinica San Cataldo, they had called earlier today, saying the results would be ready tomorrow.


    Everyone was delighted with this progress, heading into the building that had its lights glowing through the windows into the night like the bulbs of fireflies.


    --------


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    Today was Monday, officially making it five days until Saturday, the day of the Formula 2 Italian Mega Prix. Luca''s enemies might think he would be out of competition, but clutching it late was what Luca was known for.


    Ms. Vallotton advised that he wake up early, head to San Cataldo as soon as possible, and return with the test results laminated as well.


    Luca also added, saying that for good measure, he had to make it to the sub-quarters first and resume the test as though nothing had happened before driving off to San Cataldo. Everyone agreed, though they really wanted this all wrapped up.


    By 7 a.m., Luca was fully dressed and ready to go after a quick gym session, a refreshing bath, and breakfast. Mr. Ammermann and the same two crew members were also prepped and waiting.


    Two SUVs sat parked at the side, with Trampos'' REAL security team already patrolling around them, waiting.


    The security department was simply divided into two branches: Internal Security and External Security.


    For Internal Security, it was a group of bodyguards and team-appointed personnel responsible for protecting the drivers, key staff, and facilities. They ensured no unauthorized access to the team''s spaces and maintained order within the camp.


    For External Security, they were trained professionals working closely with event organizers and local authorities to manage threats outside Trampos'' direct perimeter. Their job was to handle potential disruptions, from overenthusiastic fans to rival team interference, ensuring safe travel and public appearances.


    Now, it all depended on how it was handled. That was further divided into two kinds: defensive and tactical.


    Defensive Security, which could be anyone under both Internal and External, operated with a non-aggressive approach, relying on strict surveillance, strategic positioning, and physical presence to deter threats.


    However, Tactical Security was a more heavily equipped unit responsible for high-risk scenarios, and their presence alone was a deterrent against any serious security breaches.


    Luca was driving with Tactical External Security today, their rifles in their grip saying it all.


    They all got into the SUVs and drove to the place, arriving 20 minutes later.


    Luca didn''t wear his nose mask this time around. If the whole of Italy would be bummed to see him out in public, then they''d cry their eyes out when he won the F2 world championship in front of all of them.


    The second-to-last phase of Luca''s test with the Federation sub-quarters was conducted smoothly and unsurprisingly steady.


    Luca greeted the doctors and nurses before leaving the room and heading down the elevator with Mr. Ammermann toward the counter to sign out his presence from the facility.


    Zo, a dark-skinned, 47-year-old man with a buzz cut and a quiet but commanding presence, entered the building just as they reached the counter.


    As the head of the External Security department, he was the only one carrying a concealed pistol. Without a word, he took his place at Luca''s left while Luca accepted the pen from the nurse.


    Luca''s attention was drawn to a figure striding toward them with clear intent. He glanced down the hallway and saw a man in a dress shirt and deep turquoise pants approaching.


    "Luca," the man called out before even reaching them.


    Luca had never seen him before, but from the smug expression on his face, he could already tell they wouldn''t see eye to eye.


    "Kellerman," the man introduced himself, his gaze flicking toward the document Luca was signing.


    Zo, ever observant, made a subtle movement to establish that Luca was under protection.


    "What tests did you take today?" Kellerman asked.


    "Cardiovascular," Luca replied.


    "Tsk, tsk, tsk," Kellerman clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Not the last, is it?"


    "Nope. One test left."


    "And there are only five days until Saturday, Luca. Five days," Kellerman said with a knowing smile, stepping closer into Luca''s personal space. "You sure you can make it?"


    Zo didn''t hesitate. He placed a firm yet controlled hand on Kellerman''s chest and pushed him back, making it clear there were boundaries. Years of experience had taught Zo that men dressed like Kellerman were always trouble.


    Kellerman dusted off his chest dramatically, as if Zo had somehow sullied it. With a shrug, he adjusted his cuffs and smirked.


    "The view of a race like the Mega Prix is always better from the suites. Join me there on Saturday instead of sweating it out in your stuffy paddock," he said, throwing a glance at Zo before turning on his heel and walking away.


    Luca watched him exit the building, saying nothing as he resumed signing. Once finished, he followed Mr. Ammermann and Zo outside.


    There, they spotted Kellerman slipping into a sleek, black commercial Ferrari¡ªelegant, expensive, and built to draw attention.


    "He''s clueless, isn''t he?" Mr. Ammermann muttered as they stepped into their SUV.


    "Very," Luca exhaled, watching the Ferrari disappear down the road as their own vehicles turned toward the direction of San Cataldo.


    ------------


    The drive seemed long to Luca. Maybe it was because he was anxious.


    Luca''s anxiety eased when they arrived and the staff had all smiles to him. Even the head doctor in charge of him and his tests, showed no facial expression that could tell Luca was in trouble.


    With no further delay, he informed Luca that he tested negative for exogenous erythropoietin (EPO) administration and anabolic androgenic steroid (AAS) use, the primary substances under scrutiny in the doping investigation.


    In normal terms, Luca was tested negative for artificially boosting his red blood cell count and using performance-enhancing steroids.


    The doctor handed him his file.


    Luca''s eyes skimmed over the details, his heartbeat steadying as he read the word NEGATIVE stamped in bold.


    "We truly appreciate your help, doctor," Mr. Ammermann said, sensing the relief radiating from Luca. "You''ll inform the FIA as soon as possible, right?"


    "Yes," the doctor confirmed. "As an FIA-approved facility, we''ll submit the test results and proof immediately. Once they verify the findings, all charges against him will be dropped."


    "Thank you," Mr. Ammermann said sincerely.


    "Thank you," Luca echoed, his heart pounding with joy as they stepped out of the hospital. A wide grin spread across his face. "This calls for a celebration, don''t you think?"


    "Absolutely," Mr. Ammermann replied. "The whole team will be thrilled. And your foes? Completely defeated."


    Luca''s mind drifted to Kellerman. "Do you know that man? Do you think he played a part in all these delays?"


    Mr. Ammermann shrugged, unwilling to confirm what he wasn''t sure of. "Whoever he is, he won''t be happy about this news. And come Saturday, he''ll keep a seat for you, he''ll be waiting for you to join him in the suites¡ªonly to be disappointed."


    The thought made them both burst into laughter.

 Chapter 212 The Road To Championship Begins. 4

    Italian Mega Prix


    Location: Monza, Italy


    Date: Nov. 28


    Track: Autodromo di Lombardia (Serpeggiare)


    The head doctor at San Cataldo Hospital had just assured them that the FIA had received Luca''s test results. He also mentioned that their expression was nothing short of bewilderment and surprise, as they had not expected it.


    As Luca and Mr. Ammermann had anticipated, Trampos did celebrate on a low night. Happiness and relief overwhelmed them, prompting a soft celebration where every single Trampos personnel gathered in the lounge to chat, drink, and cheer.


    The following day, a happy Trampos set out to embark on the 30-minute journey to Monza¡ªto the circuit of entropy, as the English folks called it¡ªto Autodromo di Lombardia for their Track Walk.


    Two buses were boarded, and a cold morning with a sunless sky guided their way from one city to the other. It was a beautiful, quiet ride, one Luca found himself enjoying as he observed the sudden shift in landscape.


    The crowded streets and roads of Milan, along with its altitudinous skyscrapers, were now out of sight. All Luca could see was the suburban transition between both cities, featuring small industrial zones and some residential neighborhoods with plenty of satisfying green spaces.


    Suddenly, the scenery shifted dramatically again, marking their entrance into Monza. And from this route, Parco di Monza was one of the first venues any traveler would encounter.


    It was a park¡ªactually, one of the largest enclosed parks in Europe and the biggest in Italy. Of course, it was supposed to be big because it housed the circuit itself.


    Deep down in the park, at its far end, Autodromo di Lombardia waited calmly.


    There were already a few people at the park so early in the morning, engaging in the usual park activities. Even though Formula 1 content had already saturated the entire park, some children still needed merry-go-rounds, swings, and slides to enjoy their morning.


    Trampos'' buses took the roads leading to the circuit. They underwent the first checkpoint, which was likely set up to keep any civilians far away from the circuit while the teams conducted their Track Walk in peace.


    After driving on roads marked by FIA banners, they eventually arrived at the main location in the park. The main entrance to the circuit was well-signposted, with large gates and one final checkpoint, which they cleared with ease.


    Finally, Luca disembarked from the bus. This time around, they actually drove into the circuit''s range with their buses.


    Unlike the previous round, Trampos had the entire circuit to themselves and no other team was scheduled for a Track Walk at this time. One might assume that, given this was the final round, the schedule would be much tighter, with every team eager to walk the track before race day.


    Yet, the opposite was true. The Track Walk schedule was surprisingly open.


    No Formula 1 teams would be conducting Track Walks this week. This entire week was reserved exclusively for Formula 2, while the weekend also belonged solely to F2.


    The 12th round of the season always stood apart from the others. Unlike the usual format, it was branded as a Mega Prix rather than a Grand Prix, and there would be no Sprint Race preceding the main event. Another key difference was the scheduling:


    Rather than hosting both the F2 Italian Mega Prix on Saturday and the F1 Italian Mega Prix on Sunday like a standard race weekend, this round had a unique structure. Formula 2 would race on Saturday, November 28th, but Formula 1''s Italian Mega Prix would be pushed to the following Sunday, December 6th¡ªnot November 29th as one might expect.


    This was a deliberate move by the Federation, designed to give the final round a distinct, memorable atmosphere. Extending the race calendar in this way also stretched the celebrations in Italy¡ªor any country hosting the final round¡ªbringing an economic boost by keeping motorsport fans engaged for a longer period.


    By Saturday, November 28th, the entire Formula season for all divisions would officially conclude. Transfers, contract negotiations, renewals, and driver movements could begin immediately after the checkered flag waved for the F2 champion.


    However, the true final curtain on this year''s racing calendar would not fall until Sunday, December 6th, when Formula 1 completed its Mega Prix race. Only then would the FIA workers, officials, and teams finally be able to rest after an intense, grueling year.


    Luca was relieved he had brought thick gloves because the air here was absolutely freezing. If the temperature kept dropping, it wouldn''t be surprising if it started snowing soon.


    Stepping onto Turn 3, known as Curva Grande, the circuit''s sheer scale became even more impressive. This sweeping, high-speed curve was long, tight, and steep. It was one of the rare turns in motorsport designed to link two chicanes seamlessly. Can you imagine that?! The idea of navigating such a demanding section at full throttle was thrilling.


    And this was just one piece of the intricate, almost spaghetti-like layout of Autodromo di Lombardia. The Italian circuit had earned its nickname, Serpeggiare, meaning to snake or to wind, for good reason.


    Stretching 7 kilometers, Serpeggiare was a queen track that punished understeer and challenged even the best drivers with its demand for precise downforce management and impeccable traction control.


    Beyond the asphalt wasn''t much of nature but of trees of the park and all its features. It was this very reason that the circuit was located in the huge park that''s why it had less seat capacity than Circuito del Barca-Raval, Mandalora¡ªjust by a few thousands though.


    With the team, Luca moved through the record-breaking 21 turns of the circuit, marveling at its complexity. Only four straightaways offered the drivers a brief respite before plunging into yet another demanding corner.


    At some point, Luca quietly drifted away from the group. The spot he was heading to wasn''t close, so he picked up his pace, jogging for about two minutes until he arrived.


    There it was.


    Standing before the main grandstand, Luca took a deep breath. This section, known as Tribuna Centrale, dominated the home straight, and it was here that the podium ceremony would take place on Saturday. The winner wouldn''t just claim victory in the race but would also be crowned Formula 2 world champion.


    Though the podium was yet to be set up, Luca could already picture himself standing atop it, the championship trophy raised high, the roar of the crowd echoing around him.


    His gaze shifted as he mentally traced a straight line from the future podium''s position, across the track, and toward the grandstand directly facing it.


    That''s where Mom and Sophia would sit, he thought. It was a multi-tiered grandstand with shades and an obstructed, perfect view of the grid formation, pit stops, podium celebrations, and the chequered flag moment.


    Surely, that would be fit for them. Luca had bought tickets very early because he knew it''d be sold out in a week, and it was, five days even. He hoped they could come to Italy as soon as possible.


    The rest of the spectators would watch from viewing centres in the park itself, anywhere in Italy or anywhere else in the world.


    75 Laps would be no easy task for Luca. And with this new configuration of Sync Buff, he might have a few difficulties adjusting. But at least he''d perform! Negative test results equaled positive fair play! Find more to read at My Virtual Library Empire


    After nearly two hours of exploring the circuit, the team decided to call it a day. They boarded their buses, retracing their tire marks back to Milan.


    Upon arriving at their designated facility, they were met with an unexpected surprise.


    For the first time, Luca heard mention of Trampos'' actual owners. Until now, he had assumed that Mr. Fisher¡ªthe man who called the shots¡ªwas either the owner or at least held a significant stake in the team. But now, he was learning otherwise.


    As it turned out, Trampos Racing was primarily owned by the German government, holding about 70% majority stake. The remaining 30% was divided among various groups, but unlike some of the top F1 teams Luca knew, no single individual actually owned a piece of Trampos.


    And Mr. Fisher? S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He was just the president, the head of operations, but with no personal ownership stake in the team.


    Von Keller Gruppe was the group that arrived today. As the largest stakeholder within that 30% minority ownership, they had come with the clear intent of motivating the Trampos team ahead of their crucial finale.


    They were a prestigious German financial and investment conglomerate that specialized in banking, real estate, luxury goods and media. Perhaps, some of Trampos'' privileges in these fields came from them.


    Von Keller Gruppe weren''t the only ones present. A few representatives from Fijee, Catapult, and other sponsors¡ªDradel, Vortex, and HighLine¡ªhad also gathered to make their last-minute promises, should Trampos secure the championship on Saturday and crown themselves champions of Formula 2.


    True to their deep pockets, Von Keller Gruppe pledged a substantial team-wide bonus, despite being owners rather than sponsors.


    Fijee, already having performance-based bonuses in their contracts with Trampos, offered individual rewards rather than a collective payout to the entire team. The same went for Catapult and the others, each adding their own incentives.


    A round of applause rippled through the Trampos camp, with the younger crew members cheering and clapping the loudest. The thought of extra financial rewards fueled their excitement, attracted nothing but happiness, and a silent determination settled within them. They swore to win on Saturday¡ªthough, in the end, that responsibility rested solely on their drivers, Luca and Haas.


    As the representatives departed, Luca headed up to his room. He peeled off his thick gloves and jacket before collapsing flat onto his bed.


    He remained there for a while, dormant, conscious yet not aware of his surroundings. His system rang just when the drowsiness of sleep began to creep in.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been issued!]

 Chapter 213 The Road To Championship Begins. 5

    Tension was in the air. Luca could feel it. Even though Hatcherk Motorsport was staying in another facility at the other end of Milan, and even though Velocit¨¤ and Squadra Jnr were in Monza, Luca could still feel it.


    The tension only worsened the moment the FIA diligently announced that Luca Rennick of Trampos Racing was cleared for competition in the F2 Italian Mega Prix.


    He could only imagine the disbelief, grief, and malcontent on the faces of those responsible for delaying his result¡ªand on those who had hoped to benefit from his absence.


    This could very well be the last day of peace of mind for any driver or team because the following day was the qualifying session for the grid on Saturday¡­ the most important qualifying session of the season so far.


    It was going to be the standard, traditional fastest lap format¡ªwhoever set the fastest time within the session would take pole, while the remaining positions would be claimed by subsequent lap times.


    Luca expected nothing less than severe competition on Thursday. Everyone, including him, would fight for what would ultimately determine a driver''s starting point in the finale.


    And the starting position mattered just as much as the finishing position.


    Luca was going into the Serpeggiare on Thursday morning with Pole Position in mind. Not P5, not P4, not P3, not P2¡ªonly the farthest, most dominant position on the grid.


    That was Thursday''s concern. But today was Wednesday. Three days left until Saturday.


    And Luca had some beef to fuel.


    Not that he planned to settle any discord with anyone. At least, that''s what the FIA would prefer to see on their screens. That''s what the spectators would yearn for. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The second pre-race driver conference was here, scheduled just as planned before the final race of the season. Every driver still in contention for the championship would attend¡ªLuca, Max, Aaronson, and Miles.


    The last time these four sat together at the same table, there had been six, including Ansel and Dani Walding. The last time this conference was held, Aaronson was still sulking over his DNF in Stadhaven, and Max Addams was sitting comfortably at the top of the Driver''s Standings.


    Now, Aaronson was just as confident and hopeful as any of his rivals attending the conference today. Knowing he''d be F2 champion just by winning this race gave him a surprisingly calm demeanor, as if he were planning every single turn he would make on Saturday.


    Now, Max Addams was full of worry, his confidence fading away, replaced with bitterness and an ache. He was aching not just for the F2 championship victory, but for victory over Luca.


    Halasz Pavilion in Budapest had hosted the last press conference, but today, Parco Di Monza in Monza was hosting the second¡ªthe same park where the circuit was located. It almost felt as if the FIA had completely colonized the area.


    Luca arrived at the venue with Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton. Team Principals were requested to attend the brief event, though they wouldn''t sit at the main table before the press. If present, Team Principals and Head Engineers would likely be interviewed in other booths, questioned about their tactics for the race.


    That part of the park was bustling with the media, clusters of photographers holding up cameras that never seemed to stop flashing.


    There were hurried conversations, including those between Luca and the organizers as they directed him and his Team Principals toward a safer path into the building, away from the sea of fans congesting the opposite side. Luca couldn''t see them from his angle, but he could hear pushing, collective muffles, and the unmistakable clamor of hundreds packed together.


    His eyes caught one man who had managed to squeeze his way to the front of the barricade. The moment their eyes met, the man''s face twisted with hostility.


    "Fuck you, Rennick!"


    The words had barely left his mouth before security spotted him and shoved him away, cutting off anything else he might have said.


    "Ignore the commotion, please," the organizer leading them said softly.


    Luca nodded and quietly followed.


    The FIA''s branding was plastered everywhere, and a lot of men in black were positioned everywhere. Luca wondered if every single man had a duty because there were so many, but not as many as the journalists who were already taking their seats and setting up their tripods with their corresponding photographers.


    Formula 2 was actually getting more recognition than it did five years ago.


    Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton tapped Luca goodbye before they went their separate ways to different interview booths.


    Luca heard a door shut behind him, drowning out the loud shuffle of the fans outside. He advanced further until he could see one figure sitting comfortably at the supposed conference table.


    It was Max, and he was seated like a king, deliberately choosing one of the two center seats to face the cameras more effectively.


    Max didn''t see Luca yet. He was scrolling on his phone because the event had yet to begin.


    Another figure, standing and speaking to the organizers as if he was really impatient to leave this place, was Aaronson. He was dressed in a suit, hands in his pockets, and when he turned, his cold gaze landed on Luca, who was approaching.


    "Please welcome Luca Rennick," an announcer announced in a soft, quick tone¡ªno microphone, just her clear, sweet voice.


    Max and all the journalists opposite looked up. Aaronson remained staring, while the organizer he had been speaking with walked over to welcome Luca.


    "Welcome."


    "Thank you," Luca answered as he stepped into the camera view and gave a fine wave before taking the seat at the far end of Max''s right.


    Max sized up Luca before turning his focus back to his phone. Aaronson, on the other hand, sat at the conference table and took a sip from the bottled water placed for him.


    He tried to remain calm and collected, but it was obvious he was deeply enraged that grown-ups like him and Max had to wait for teens like Luca and Miles.


    It took a whole ten minutes before Miles arrived, and when he did, he walked in with today''s host, Curt Wallace¡ªa very young Englishman in the complexities of journalism, no older than thirty.


    Miles walked behind Luca''s chair and took the chair beside Max.


    Seeing his rivals were seated, Aaronson finally took his own seat, completing the set.


    All four drivers looked relaxed, with no clear expression emblazoned on their faces. However, real sports fans would know that this expressionless appearance was a result of the tension and how high the stakes were.

 Chapter 214 The Road To Championship Begins. 6

    5 p.m. in Parco Di Monza, Monza, Italy¡ª all fifteen Formula 2 teams arrived with their fleet of trucks, consisting of car carriers and engineering trucks alone. A simple event like the qualifying session didn''t require as much inventory as a full race.


    The circuit itself was quiet, stretching as far and wide as it could with empty grandstands. However, the outside of the circuit¡ªthe surrounding locations of the park¡ªwas far from quiet and empty.


    Many people had gathered in numbers that were surprising for just a qualifying activity. Even though they wouldn''t be let anywhere near the streets leading to the circuit, just the idea of being close to the action and even hearing the roar of the engines was thrilling.


    Additionally, there were screens set up to broadcast the qualifying session. So, everyone was taking their seats under the mellow blue sky.


    After finishing his second-best playlist, Luca cracked his neck, ready to compete. He saved his best playlist for Saturday, when every action he would make in the race would be emphasized by the beats and bass his mind would be playing.


    "What if I get pole?" Haas asked Luca as they made finishing touches to their racing gear, ready to head out to the garage.


    Luca huffed, realizing it was quite possible if fate turned out that way. "That''s not even the hard part," he said, zipping up and making sure his Velcro straps were strapped shut. "The hard part would be keeping it on Saturday. I mean, 75 laps, mannn."


    "True," Haas answered, finishing up before Luca, like always. He grabbed the row of glucose on the bench and licked off just one pack.


    Luca, on the other hand, licked three packs.


    He needed unreal energy today if he wanted to get pole and begin the Italian Mega Prix with a head start. Max and Mr. Lugo''s words from the conference event yesterday had really stung, and he hoped to put their faces in the mud this evening.


    The first part was already done¡ªthe part where he clutched it late, blindsiding his rivals who had pinned their hopes on the doping accusation knocking him out of competition. Now, it was time for the second part.


    Max had denied it, though. He rejected the journalists'' assumptions that he would have enjoyed seeing Luca miss the Italian Mega Prix.


    He went on to explain that he wasn''t interested in defeating an opponent in the paddock. He explained that he wanted to cross the checkered flag first, stand on his Dallara, and glare down at Luca as he walked past, head lowered in defeat.


    Luca didn''t flinch when Max said this. In fact, he found the vividness amusing. He smiled.


    Miles, on the other hand, made no effort to hide his thoughts. He openly admitted that he had wished for Luca''s absence, because it would''ve improved his chances of winning both the race and the championship. Typical Miles Bellingham; very low on emotional intelligence, always blurting out whatever was on his mind.


    Aaronson took a different approach. He feigned neutrality, claiming it made no difference to him whether Luca had been suspended or not.


    But then he threw in a remark that stirred the room: he doubted the legitimacy of the tests and suggested a retake after the race because he still wasn''t convinced Luca was clean.


    That was the funniest thing Luca had heard all day. He let out a quiet chuckle, the same chuckle that accidentally broadcasted into his mic. It was enough for Curt Wallace to pounce, shifting the attention onto him. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You find Sean''s claims amusing?" Wallace asked with a very sharp and eager tone.


    Aaronson, already bracing for a quarrel, leaned forward. "Yes, please answer¡ªwhat''s so funny?"


    Luca didn''t hold back. With his arms folded, he shrugged. And then, with a single sentence, he shattered the calm demeanor Aaronson had been trying to maintain all day.


    "You," Luca answered simply. "Your insecurity and paranoia that I''m such a good driver you can''t even believe it."


    The press conference went on break for twenty minutes after that.


    This was why Luca needed to fuel himself with as much energy as possible. He had just escalated this competition to another level after that press conference, and not just with his rival drivers, but with rival Team Principals as well. Mr. Lugo, for instance, was now a direct enemy.


    Luca had outright refused to shake Lugo''s hand for the official photo to mark the day.


    Luca could defend himself for doing that whenever and wherever. Mr. Lugo badmouthed him on screen, saying "*scoffs* I hear teens do drugs a lot these days. This is no surprise, don''t you think?" Then he laughed with the interviewer.


    That laugh was nowhere to be found when Luca ignored his extended hand and moved to stand beside Mr. Grant instead.


    Not that Lugo had relished the idea of shaking hands with the driver who had given him hell all season¡ªhe had only reluctantly offered out of formality. And Luca just made him regret and wonder why he offered it in the first place.


    Luca preferred that the rivalry had to be open and official.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Dallara (F2 04)]


    **Last qualifying activity for the season. Let''s make it count!**


    **Yes!** Haas replied exuberantly from his Dallara, while Luca remained silent, rolling his own car out onto the track.


    For a moment, he slipped into Haas'' perspective, putting himself in his shoes, trying to understand what it felt like to be in his position. It only took seconds for Luca to grasp it, and if he was being honest, he felt a little jealous.


    Right now in the competition, Haas and a handful of other drivers were free, rival-less, unburdened, with no real stakes. For them, this final race was nothing more than a formality, a filler in their careers.


    Any driver feeling genuinely happy at this moment was likely sitting in P10 or below. The rest? They were either still in the hunt for the championship, fighting for a top-five accreditation, or aiming for the modest bonuses that came with a top-ten finish in the standings.


    Luca sighed as he took P24, lining up behind Haas, who was at P3.


    Unfortunately, the grid was structured alphabetically again, but this time by the team''s name. So, T for Trampos pushed Luca far back, while E for Erik positioned Haas ahead of him.


    The grid lights flashed on and disappeared moments later. It was time to chase the fastest lap on one of the toughest circuits in history.


    Speeding through the Serpeggiare was no easy feat, not with its disastrous turns that punished recklessness. The key to securing the fastest lap wasn''t outright speed but maintaining a steady, consistent pace and capitalizing on the four rare straights.


    But even that was a challenge with so many drivers cluttering the field, causing traffic at every corner.


    Some began weaving aggressively, trying to create space for themselves before the 30-minute timer ran out. What started as simple positioning soon evolved into soft duels, and before long, those duels intensified as everyone fought for clear track space from start to finish.


    The top drivers were the most entangled in these battles. They were forced to split their focus into finding space for their own flying laps while simultaneously blocking their rivals from doing the same.


    And they let it consume them. Luca had barely gotten a clean run, with Max Addams glued to him at every turn, and he still hadn''t set a lap time close to Oliver Kristensen''s best so far.


    The numbers didn''t look promising for Trampos¡ªor even their rival teams. When the 30 minutes expired, none of the title contenders¡ªLuca, Max, Miles, or even Aaronson¡ªmade it into the top three.


    Not even the top five.


    None of them would start in P1 through P5!


    **It''s alright. We tried our best** Mr. Ruben assured as Luca coasted his Dallara to their garage.


    [Activity completed]


    [Fastest Lap: 1:51.662]


    "What did I make?" Luca asked.


    **P7**


    P1¡ªOliver Kristensen


    P2¡ªBenjamin Taubert


    P3¡ªJames Legrasse


    P4¡ªAlbert Derstappen


    P5¡ªDani Walding


    P6¡ªMiles Bellingham


    P7¡ªLuca Rennick


    P8¡ªMax Addams


    P9¡ªSean Aaronson


    P10¡ªErik Haas


    Those watching from around the park groaned in frustration. This kind of grid didn''t scream excitement for a race like the finale!


    How could the top four contenders start in order from P6 to P9? From this setup, it''d definitely give those above a better chance because Luca and co would battle themselves at the midfield, giving those in P5 and above milliseconds to widen their gap.


    Luca removed his helmet as he came out of his car.


    He wasn''t thrilled with P7, but as long as his rivals hadn''t outqualified him significantly, he could live with it.


    Still, his eyes lingered on Dani Walding in P5. That placement might not seem like much now, but with Haas down in P10, if the F2 Italian Mega Prix ended in this order, Velocit¨¤ would clinch the Teams'' Championship¡ªeven if Luca walked away with the Drivers'' title.

 Chapter 215 The Road To Championship Begins. 7

    That night, Luca slept later than most of Trampos in the building. He had treated himself to a very satisfying night gym session. Night gym sessions were something rare, something he had actually never done since attaining his system.


    Still in need of a boost, Luca engaged in exercises aimed mostly at power surges, sharpness, and strength explosions. He really needed physical motivation and confidence before the race on Saturday because every ounce of energy would matter in a race with 75 laps.


    Some of the workouts he engaged in under the yellow glow of the gym lights were planks, push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, and the traditional punching of the heavy bag.


    Luca really enjoyed his time with the heavy bag. It swayed recklessly with just a few punches from him, but its tough and hard frame was still a pain to his muscles nonetheless.


    When Luca was done, he unstrapped his gloves and settled into the silence that accompanied the system''s congratulatory words. No rewards came after since getting Attribute points from activities other than real racing now proved difficult.


    He asked his system if he could keep doing night gym workouts occasionally. The system agreed happily but insisted on naming it evening sessions, scheduling the time from 4 p.m. to 8 p.m. max. The rest of the night, it said, was meant for dinner, a shower, and an early sleep.


    Luca agreed to the system''s terms. It was for his own good, after all.


    He rose to his feet and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, sliding it open to the left. A strong night wind, already whipping around, pushed its way into the gym without hesitation, rattling loose parts of some gym equipment.


    Before he left the gym to return to his room and call it a night, Luca stayed out on the balcony, letting the cold wind dry his sweat in a chilling manner.


    The moon was strangely bright, bright enough to give the track a reflective sheen, almost like the surface of seawater.


    -----------


    "...Passengers arriving from Flight TK721 from Istanbul, please proceed to baggage claim area 6..." the female backdrop voice announced.


    The words reverberated through the air of the airport terminal and its surroundings, the chill of the night further amplifying its resonance.


    "...Baggage for Flight TK721 from Istanbul will be available at carousel 6."


    A lot of hurried footsteps filled the terminal as everyone was eager to reach their destination in Monza since this was the last arriving flight of the day.


    A certain footsteps was distinct from the rest; it was calm, placid and collected. Maybe it''s because the person was entering the terminal just as others were hurriedly leaving with their luggage.


    Ansel hadn''t arrived on Flight TK721. His journey had started in Berlin, and his flight had landed in Italy not long before the one from Istanbul. Now, instead of heading out, he was making his way toward the vending area.


    Emma was hungry. And a hungry Emma meant trouble.


    Ansel scanned the options, his eyes resting on an arranged stack of fresh croissants under a glowing display case at one side to the airport walls.


    He pulled out his card and made a quick purchase at the counter, adding a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice to the order.


    Balancing the warm croissant in one hand and the chilled juice in the other, he turned back toward the terminal''s exit.


    Sometimes, Ansel wondered why people were always in such a rush to get on with their lives. He often called himself a pragmatist, and that mindset had always given him the upper hand when solving problems.


    It wasn''t like rushing would change the fact that you were late. Arriving in a frantic mess wouldn''t magically erase your tardiness, it would only make you look less composed, less in control. And let''s be honest, no one ever rushed unless they were already behind schedule in the first place.


    Ansel''s ideology was unique in some way, and when put into simple words, it was almost amusing.


    He believed that if you were late, then you were late. No amount of scrambling would undo that. The only logical course of action was to accept it, suck it up, and make sure you weren''t tardy next time, instead of making things worse by panicking and creating even more chaos.


    That said, it didn''t mean he accounted for pessimism.


    Optimism was everything. If someone saw even the slimmest window¡ªsay, three minutes¡ªto salvage their situation and reset everything back on track, then Ansel would advise them to take it.


    But once that window shrank to less than three minutes¡ªless than 150 to 180 seconds, give or take¡ªAnsel would tell them to let it go.


    In his view, chances and opportunities were just as rare as fortune. Grab them early, and you''d succeed. Grab them too late, and you''d manage to slip through the closing gate, only to be met with yet another hurdle.


    Ansel smiled when he saw Laura carrying his six-year-old niece as if she were a baby.


    If he were being honest, his love for Laura now was a hundred times stronger than when they first started dating¡ªeven stronger than when they got engaged. It was rare to find a woman who could cherish a child that wasn''t hers, yet somehow, Ansel had found one.


    He and Laura had always talked about having a child of their own, but for now, they saw Emma as theirs. They had agreed to wait until she turned ten before expanding their family. Besides, Laura had once joked that she wanted Ansel to make it to F1 first before they started having kids.


    She had said it in a teasing way, as if it were some kind of reward, and Ansel had long since accepted the challenge.


    Ansel groaned and shook his head. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He approached them within seconds. "Someone wanted orange juice," he said with a smile, hoping to get Emma''s attention.


    Laura giggled and shook her head. "She''s out cold," she said, turning slightly so Ansel could see Emma''s shut eyes.


    Ansel was surprised. The same eyes that had been brimming with tears just minutes ago, demanding treats, were now peacefully closed. "So fast?" he huffed before pressing a kiss to Laura''s lips.


    Setting the treats down on the steel bench, he gently took Emma from Laura''s arms.


    When Emma''s head was safely nestled against his shoulder, Ansel''s eyes caught a familiar figure approaching. His friend, Kendall.


    Kendall bounced toward them, flanked by a few bodyguards. As a soccer star, he needed heavy protection.


    Seeing Ansel carrying Emma, Kendall frowned. "Is she asleep?"


    "Yes," Ansel replied, his gaze drifting downward to what Kendall held in his grasp. It was a big, fluffy pink pony, clearly a toy for Emma.


    Kendall sighed and handed it to Laura. "Tell her I got it for her. I made a promise after she wouldn''t stop bothering me," he said, feigning a headache.


    Everyone chuckled as Laura took the pony.


    "Come on, let''s go. The convoy''s ready," Ken said, leading the way, though his men had already gestured ahead.


    "Thanks for forcing me to come," Ansel said as they walked. "I''m starting to like it, though. Just look at this place¡ªeveryone''s going crazy for the finale."


    Ken chuckled, accepting the thanks. He stole a glance at Ansel as they walked. As a friend, he couldn''t help but feel bad that even at this Mega Prix, Ansel would once again be absent from the track.


    Ansel had arrived at Monza with his family in Ken''s privileged private jet, just like how the Hawthorne jet was to Luca. Without their consent, Ken had bought early tickets for Ansel, Laura, and Emma, knowing full well that Ansel had planned to watch the Mega Prix just as he had every race since September¡ªfrom the comfort of his sitting room, dwelling and brooding over that night in Riyadh.


    But Ken wasn''t having any of it. Even at the peak of his soccer season back in England, he had made time for this weekend to watch Luca race in the finale and possibly clinch the F2 Championship. He wanted Ansel to come along, persuading him relentlessly, until Ansel finally gave in after Ken revealed the tickets he had already secured.


    "Today''s Thursday," Ansel muttered, reaching for his phone. "They must''ve qualified for the grid by now. Do you know the results?"


    Ken shrugged. He liked watching F2, not even F1, but keeping up with real-time results and inform wasn''t really his thing.


    Laura reached into Ansel''s pocket, retrieving his phone and handing it to him.


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    After a while of tapping and scrolling, Ansel''s brow furrowed, only for the frown to settle into a neutral expression.


    "What?" Ken and Laura asked in unison.


    "Luca starts in P7, Max starts in P8. Hmmm. It''s a very weird starting grid."

 Chapter 216 The Road To Championship Begins. 8

    Race Day: Nov. 28, Autodromo di Lombardia, Monza, Italy.


    The playlist Luca had saved for race day finally had its part to play.


    Five hours and twenty minutes¡ªit was just the perfect amount of time it''d take to drive in the coach buses to Monza again and get prepared for the race, which would begin at 4:30 p.m. It was just enough time to fully lock into focus mode.


    A composed, calm silence reigned over Trampos as they got ready to leave. Even from 5:00 a.m., when the team crew began preparing everything, loading equipment into the big trucks and making last-minute checks, everyone worked in silence.


    Luca himself hadn''t spoken to himself like he always did. He woke up a few minutes before his system chimed to begin the day and worked in his room just as the team worked below.


    When it was time, they rolled out of the facility in the serene quietness of the morning. Avidavis Motorsport followed shortly after, but by then, Trampos had covered enough road that they couldn''t even see their last trucks at the end of the fleet.


    In fact, just like a cue, within the hour, every team was making their way to the circuit, whether their temporary base was in Milan, Monza, or another city. All 15 Formula 2 teams had their convoys rolling over gravel and tarmac, all 30 drivers grooming in silence, thinking about how they''d drive.


    ------


    Mallow arrived at Parco Di Monza with Sara in a taxi. They hurriedly disembarked and dashed into the bustling park.


    It was already afternoon¡ª1:30 p.m.¡ªand three hours to lights out, marking the start of the last race of the Formula 2 season. Parco Di Monza was crowded to capacity, like a swarm of bees and a colony of ants all together.


    There was hardly any breathing space nor a walkable path to follow. Every direction was packed with people donning team colors, waving flags, and chanting in unison.


    The majority were Velocit¨¤ and Squadra fans, while Trampos fans had to mellow down in the open. They were in Italy, in the rival teams'' home, so they were bound to be outnumbered no matter how many had flown in from Berlin to watch the race in person. Enjoy exclusive adventures from My Virtual Library Empire


    Sara didn''t like the way Mallow dragged her along, pushing and weaving her way through. She did her best to stay on her heels without buckling over and to keep her purse and belongings close to herself.


    Intense gatherings like this always turned out to be nothing but trouble, notorious for theft one could never get back.


    "All the seats must be taken by now," Sara said, yanking her hand out of Mallow''s grasp. "We should just find somewhere to squat in a caf¨¦ or something," she suggested, though she didn''t seem thrilled by her own idea.


    "Hell no, we''re not doing that," Mallow shot back, grabbing her hand again and continuing the search. "I have a friend who promised to get us seats. Let me just find him."


    Sara sighed as she was pulled along. If Mallow had just listened to her and bought tickets early, they wouldn''t be wandering around, searching for seats outside the circuit.


    Now, during the most important race of Luca''s career so far, they''d be watching from giant LED screens outside the circuit¡ªor worse, crammed into a caf¨¦ with a hundred others, the air thick with the smell of beer. Mallow at least promised they''d find a spot in front of an LED screen and not be stuck inside a suffocating bar.


    First, though, he had to find this his friend. He even paused to make a call, and while he did, Sara took the chance to glance around.


    There were different seating sections on the park''s near grass, each with about a hundred chairs arranged in perfect 10x10 squares, all facing massive screens. Every single seat was taken, yet people still roamed around, looking for an opening.


    Mallow finally spotted someone he''d been directed to and made his way over. To his relief, two seats had been reserved for them.


    "And you are?" Mallow asked after expressing his thanks. This wasn''t his friend at all, yet he''d been sent to him.


    "Doesn''t matter. I''m a friend of your friend," the man replied, extending his right palm. "Now pay up."


    Mallow''s friend, Toti, hadn''t mentioned anything about paying, but it seemed this guy had different plans. Mallow glanced at Sara, silently pleading for her to cover it because he''d forgotten his wallet.


    Sara exhaled sharply, reached into her purse, and pulled out a neatly folded bundle of cash. Just as she was about to hand it over without even counting, she caught sight of the third seat next to theirs. A Velocit¨¤ shirt and two packs of cigarettes were placed on it, clearly marking it as taken.


    "I want this one too," Sara stated. "Three seats."


    "That''s rude, Sara," Mallow objected. "Someone already has that seat."


    "You forgot your goddamn wallet at a place like this. I''m the one paying, so I want it," Sara countered flatly. "Besides, that ''someone'' is probably off somewhere gambling and drinking." Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    She turned back to the guy holding out his hand. "Can you make it happen?"


    "I respond to cash," the man said bluntly.


    Sara handed him the money. He counted it, clearly impressed as it was more than enough to exclusively secure an entire row if they wanted.


    Like a soldier following orders, the man casually gathered the pack of cigarettes and the Velocit¨¤ shirt, then pasted a sticker on the seat to officially mark it as Sara and Mallow''s. Without another word, he left.


    Sara and Mallow exhaled as they finally took their seats, glancing around at the controlled chaos unfolding around them.


    The big screen before them was already rolling footage of the season so far, recapping dramatic moments, unexpected crashes, and strategic masterstrokes.


    Detailed analytics followed, breaking down each driver''s performance, their strengths and weaknesses, and what to expect from today''s race.


    Heat maps of overtaking zones in previous races in the circuit, tire degradation comparisons, and even simulated predictions flashed across the screen, giving fans a final taste of anticipation before the real action began.


    Minutes later, the broadcast switched to a stunning aerial view of the track, its beauty on full display for the world to see. The lush grass bordering chicane after chicane, the towering barricades standing as potential crash sites, and the legendary corners that had witnessed historic battles¡ªall of it was shown in breathtaking detail.


    The cameras then panned over the grandstands, packed with over 200,000 spectators, a sea of passionate fans waving flags and banners.


    The broadcast didn''t miss the arrival of influential figures making their way to their luxury suites.


    Mr. Kingston... Dan, was there just like everyone else. And despite the cold, he had decided to dress in the most offbeat manner. Wearing a loose beach shirt, khaki shorts, sunglasses, and a bin hat, sipping from a fine glass as if he were on a tropical vacation instead of at the F2 season finale.


    He casually strolled into a suite filled with sharply dressed businessmen, men like Mr. Marchetti.


    The cameras also cut to shots of the outermost garage rooms and paddocks of each team, placing special focus on those still in championship contention.


    After that, the view returned to the track again, and an announcement was made for a musical performance by TwoFluffyEggs, a music band set to kick off the event.


    Mallow sighed as he relaxed deeply into his chair, casually waving at a hawker selling snacks.


    He reminisced on last year and how the last race of the season had been kicked off. A band performed as well, just like always for Formula 2, while Formula 1 often had one single popular musician taking the stage.


    Back then, he never expected the next year would be different for him. That he''d actually care about the outcome of this race. But here he was, invested¡ªnot just as a spectator, but because he had a client on the grid.


    Mallow sat up with a suddenness that startled Sara. He glanced around, noticing how many Velocit¨¤ and Squadra fans filled the outside, while Trampos fans were as rare as any other non-Italian team supporters.


    He told Sara to attend to the hawker that was approaching, then he left his seat and ventured out to the nearest store in the park.


    Fortunately, they had Trampos sweaters and scarves. They were just a few, barely enough to be called merchandise.


    Mallow bought anyway with his card and returned to Sara, handing her the scarf while he removed his coat and pulled on the sweater.


    Mallow quickly sensed the hostility from the Squadra and Velocit¨¤ fans beside and behind him, but he didn''t care.


    This was the day where Luca dethroned both Max and Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr.


    This was the day where Trampos became F2 champions.


    And he was sure of it.

 Chapter 217 12th Round Finale

    "...Benvenuti a questo Formula 2 Italian Mega Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the grand finale of the season. Good evening, and welcome! This is the Italian Mega Prix!"


    Steve Cole was in a particularly good mood today. The commentary gantry he shared with Jon had never been more electric before, and their microphones had never been clearer. Even so, they could hardly hear themselves as the multitude occupying the grandstands of a circuit roughly the size of Central Park intensified their noise once the official broadcast began.


    "...one hour till lights out!"


    "...Un''ora al semaforo verde!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "..the teams are in position, and in just a short while, we will witness the final showdown of the Formula 2 championship!"


    "..the stakes couldn''t be higher today. Months of relentless competition have led to this very moment, and the grid is set for an intense battle on one of the most demanding circuits on the calendar. Precision, strategy, and raw speed will be key as the drivers prepare for lights out..."


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


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    1. | Trampos Racing | 275


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 238


    3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 236


    4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 175


    5. | Retona Racing | 90


    "...it is unbelievable we are about to have the last race of the season for the Formula 2 division. Right from Germany to Italy, from Bad Raunberg to Monza, this could only be described as Trampos Racing''s season as they clinched 1st Place for 12 rounds!"


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    If Luca and Haas could get just enough points to keep Trampos ahead of Velocit¨¤ after this race, then Trampos would have the lead. It didn''t matter if any of them won the race, they just needed higher points accumulated than Max and Dani Walding.


    Based on the current standings, Trampos held a solid 37-point advantage over Velocit¨¤. To maintain their lead, either Luca or Haas would need to finish in the top five, while the other could place anywhere in the top ten¡ªassuming both Max and Dani finished in the top five.


    However, if Max and Dani finished outside the top five but still within the top ten, then Luca and Haas would only need to finish somewhere in the top ten as well, regardless of whether it was top five or not.


    This put Trampos in a highly favorable position to clinch the championship, while Velocit¨¤ Jnr faced an uphill battle with only a slim chance to turn things around. As for Squadra Jnr, their only hope rested on sheer miracles¡ªlike their rivals suffering DNFs¡ªif they wanted to snatch an improbable championship win.


    "...Who''s your bet, Jon? Which colors do you think will soar in victory this evening...?"


    "...Well, I see Squadra fans out in force, dressed in their black and gold, their black and silver. They''re chanting, convinced their team will claim victory¡ªregardless of what the analytics say. But the loudest voices in the crowd? Those belong to the fans in blue. And rightfully so. As reigning champions, this is the perfect stage for Bueseno Velocit¨¤ to defend their title and add more glory to their name."


    "...Jon, you slippery snake, you still haven''t answered my question...!"


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    ---------------------------------------


    1. | Max Addams | 155


    2. | Luca Rennick | 151


    3. | Miles Bellingham | 146


    4. | Sean Aaronson | 144


    5. | Ansel Hahn | 115


    "...Steve, I''m a man of calculations, data, and cold hard analytics. Unlike the Driver''s Standings, where the odds are spread, I see very little chance for Velocit¨¤ Jnr to snatch first from Trampos¡ªand close to none for Squadra. I mean, Steve, Luca Rennick is locked in and ready for action."


    After a while, the circuit went through its usual routine of announcing the VIPs. There were so many names that it felt like it would never end, making Ansel wonder just how much more exclusive Formula 1''s own finale could possibly be.


    He had enjoyed the performance by TwoFluffyEggs, and now, all he wanted was for the race to begin. From his seat alongside his family and Ken, he had a sharp, angular view of Trampos'' garage.


    Ansel recognized every damn crew member he spotted, each moving with purpose, fine-tuning the pit box, adjusting tire blankets, double-checking telemetry, and laying out last-minute tools.


    McCauley, as usual, didn''t seem to be doing much. He was just standing there with a mug of coffee in hand while his younger crew members bustled around, making final adjustments.


    Ansel sighed and glanced up at the sky, relieved to see that there was no sign of rain unlike the last race in France. Though the sun was behind clouds and there was cold, soft wind, the forecast had predicted it to remain like this. And a perfect weather it was for racing.


    "...a well-executed strategy today might mean victory or heartbreak. If things didn''t go as planned for Trampos, it might just be the biggest heartbreak in the history of this sport..."


    "...first championship title up for grab for Trampos Racing and their bright star, Luca Rennick! The tension is building, the fans are on their feet, and everything is set for what promises to be a thrilling race!"


    "...Stay with us as we count down to lights out¡ªthis is the Italian Mega Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...TRENTA MINUTI AL VIA!"


    "...THIRTY MINUTES TO LIGHTS OUT!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "How the heck are there this many people?" Haas muttered under his breath after the last collective roar literally shook the walls of their dressing room.


    Luca laughed from the side, in the middle of getting fully dressed after dropping his MP3 player. He glanced at Haas. "You aren''t in no pressure now, are you?"


    Haas shook his head as he stood up. "Of course I am," he said. "We aren''t champions yet. What if I hit the barricades, huh? And you fail to make top three?"


    "I see."


    "My grandpa used to smoke a blunt when he was under pressure. I wish I could do the same," Haas blurted out with a stretch before walking toward the exit.


    "Where are you going?" Luca asked.


    Haas shrugged. "Take a blunt, I guess?" he said with a laugh before disappearing behind the door.


    Luca''s own laughter faded into the silence of the room as he put on his gloves. He could hear the noise coming from the circuit¡ªit was loud, very loud.


    Big, legendary circuits like Mandalora and the Serpeggiare were roughly half the size of Vatican City. So, you could imagine just how massive they were and the kind of deafening noise that erupted from the fans.


    Luca''s right foot felt uncomfortable in his racing shoes, so he propped it on a bench and adjusted the fit, trying to find some comfort.


    Just then, the door opened, and Sam, one of the youngest crew members, walked in. He was an adorable, chubby lad, and his sudden entrance startled Luca.


    "What''s up, pal?" Luca asked, turning his head. He immediately noticed the boy''s melancholic expression and wondered why.


    "This will be your last race for us, right?" Sam asked, his head down. "I wanted to say goodbye¡­ you might be too busy and high after the celebrations."


    Luca paused what he was doing, studying the boy for a moment. Despite his round shape, he had seen Sam doing pushups with the crew a few times. The Trampos Veststar uniform fit him snugly, but with his build, the boots looked more like rain boots than ideal crew gear.


    "This MIGHT be my last race for Trampos. It''s not confirmed yet, but it''s likely," Luca corrected, finally finding comfort in his right foot. He turned around and sat on the bench. "And don''t come saying things this touching before a race. I have plenty of time to say goodbye if I do leave."


    The boy nodded, then apologized. "You''re a good racer. Please win the championship for us today. Crash Max again."


    Luca chuckled, shaking his head. "I can promise you the first, but not the latter," he said before standing up. "C''mon, move along, chap. I need a clear head. Seventy-five laps is no joke."


    The boy nodded. "I also came to tell you¡­ it''s prayer time."


    "Prayer time?"

 Chapter 218 12th Round Finale. 2

    Luca half-expected to see a priest and a few nuns in the garage for this prayer. After all, this was Italy, a country deeply rooted in Roman Catholicism. But that was a bit of an overreach for his thoughts.


    The pre-race prayer turned out to be a simple but meaningful tradition within Trampos. Every crew member, from the seasoned Mr. Grant to the youngest little Sam, gathered in the haul room to the left of the garage.


    There, they''d bow their heads together, each saying a short, silent prayer according to their own faith or beliefs. Afterward, Mr. Grant and Mr. Ruben would rally them with a series of booming motivational statements, each one met with a resounding "JA!" that shook the very walls of the garage. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca had no doubt that nearly every other team was doing something similar at this very moment. It made him wonder which team''s prayers would be answered today.


    "We own this track today!"


    "JA!"


    "Victory is ours¡ªno excuses!"


    "JA!"


    "Trampos takes the title today!"


    "JAAAAAAA!!!!"


    "Okay!" Ms. Vallotton boomed as they dispersed. "Lights out in less than thirty minutes. Work begins today," she announced.


    Luca stood next to the wall, admiring the stir of activity and movement in the garage and paddock.


    Damn, little Sam, he thought as he began to reflect how this might be his last time getting prepared in a Trampos garage.


    He began to envision the possible future with Outback Performance say their negotiations with Trampos unfold well. The red livery of Trampos slowly changed to that somewhat darkish, yellowish orange color of Outback and their secondary green.


    Mentally replacing Trampos'' colors was an easy task, but it was difficult to envision Outback''s Red Bulls as the Dallaras seated calmly before him.


    For some reason, that seemed too much of a stress for Luca''s imaginative radius.


    Luca''s eyes caught Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton walking toward him, so he stood upright and saluted.


    Ms. Vallotton seemed peculiarly happy today, and Luca noticed right away. His mind quickly searched for reasons because her mood was brighter than usual, and if there was ever a rare time to see a Trampos personnel with a happy face, this was it.


    Was she realizing that, in some way, she could actually become a two-time F2 Championship winner?


    After all, Ms. Vallotton and her strategy group had worked for Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr last season and were part of the winning crew. This year¡ªbeing with Trampos¡ªshe and Colt had the chance to pull off something crazy: back-to-back F2 championship medals, one from each team.


    That''s if Trampos won today.


    Luca saluted again when his Team Principals approached him.


    "...P5, Dani Walding...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...P4, Albert Derstappen...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...P3, James Legrasse...!"


    "...P2, Benjamin Taubert...!"


    "...Pole Position, Oliver Kristensen...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...for the first time this season, Oliver Kristensen starts at pole! Benjamin Taubert and James Legrasse make up P2 and P3! Our next powerhouse is Albert Derstappen, at P4! Jon, don''t you think this opportunity came a bit late for these our drivers?!"


    "...Oh, absolutely! If they had this kind of start all season, we might''ve had an entirely different championship battle! But, better late than never, Steve! And let''s be honest, for them now, it''s more about pride now than points!"


    The primary strategy today was still the same¡ªTiered Pursuit strategy in speaking. Luca''s finish was prioritized, not just because he was significantly better than Haas, but because a win for him would also be a win for Trampos, fostering driver-team happiness and a good relationship.


    Microstrategies included three or four pit stops, depending on how lucky these soft tires could get, withstanding the wear and tear that came with navigating the lethal turns of Serpeggiare.


    Mr. Grant made it clear that this wasn''t the track for duels, and he suggested his drivers try their best to focus on their own race, even though that might not really be possible.


    But they had to, for their sake. Many Team Principals had cracked the psychological code of the circuit, Autodromo di Lombardia.


    Never had the Italian circuit been scheduled to host a mid-season race. It was always the first or one of the last three. And this was where the stakes were often at their peak.


    Not like it was done intentionally during construction, but over time, the track had been termed a punisher of adrenaline, impatience, eagerness, bloodthirstiness, drive, and every single thing that defined a driver in those high-stakes moments when Italy hosted a race.


    So it was up to the drivers to get schooled by Serpeggiare and mellow themselves even in the time of heat...


    Or to face its punishment, where the bendiest curves made their bottlenecks look like a short straight.


    Luca couldn''t say he hadn''t expected Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton to pull him into a tight hug. They had approached him in Haas'' absence, ready to give him parting words, words that could carry him far, not just in his career, but in life.


    As they strolled into the uniform room, Ms. Vallotton veered off to handle business, leaving Mr. Grant to continue speaking with Luca.


    "I wouldn''t like it if you don''t win and we do," Mr. Grant said. "I''d personally order that the team doesn''t celebrate. Not even for a second."


    He was referring to the possibility of Luca finishing in P2 or P3 or any position at all high enough to secure Trampos the championship over Max and Velocit¨¤ Jnr, but not enough for his own personal victory.


    "Please, sir, don''t do that," Luca replied. "If it happens, everyone deserves to celebrate. Little Sam deserves to celebrate."


    They re-entered the room, and as Luca made his way toward the bench where his balaclava and helmet lay, he noticed Mr. Grant had stopped walking. He turned around.


    "No, I''m serious," Mr. Grant said. "It''d be a gesture of respect for bringing us this far."


    Luca didn''t know how to respond. Keeping the team from celebrating their own victory just because he hadn''t won the Drivers'' Championship¡­ that felt a bit cruel, didn''t it?


    Mr. Grant turned to leave. "I told you before¡ªI''m not a Team Principal of numbers, fame, or accolades. If I can''t sit in my living room ten years from now and rewatch you lifting the F2 trophy high on November 28, then there''s nothing worth celebrating. Not even our first team championship title."


    Luca stood frozen as Mr. Grant walked out. Silence stretched in the room¡ªuntil the walls trembled again with the roar of the circuit.


    "...Decima posizione, Erik Haas...!"


    "...Nona posizione, Sean Aaronson...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Ottava posizione, Max Addams...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Settima posizione, Luca Rennick...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Sesta posizione, Miles Bellingham...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca sighed and grabbed his helmet and sock. It was time to begin the race.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been Issued!]


    "Haha! I had a hunch you''d do this. In important races like this, you often give Daily Quest tied to the race to prevent me from losing."


    [Indeed, host. Critical moments demand decisive action.]


    "So, what''s it?"


    [-¡¤-CRASH ONE RIVAL IN THIS 75-LAP RACE-¡¤-]


    Your next chapter awaits on My Virtual Library Empire


    [DURATION: nil]


    "..."


    "You... you must be kidding, right?"

 Chapter 219 Italian Mega Prix

    Luca wondered how Oliver Kristensen felt about starting at pole, being the first driver to lunge into action.


    As all drivers sat on the grid, with drivers P18 to P30 still lining up behind, Luca studied those ahead and the track that wound like spaghetti into the abyss of the evening sky.


    This was a very peculiar grid for a peculiar race¡ªthe last race of the season. Kristensen would begin the race once the five lights disappeared, followed by strange faces like Taubert and Legrasse.


    From the view of the grandstands of Tribuna Centrale, any spectator wouldn''t see powerful colors until P4, where Albert Derstappen, in Squadra Jnr''s black and gold livery, sat confidently and menacingly.


    The competition grew the more one''s eyes moved to the left.


    Dani Walding followed in his blue Dallara, and Miles Bellingham sat in P6, right before Luca, the sharp angles and shape of his car painted the same colors as Derstappen''s.


    Luca hated seeing Miles'' gearbox.


    The only rival still in title contention in front of him on the grid. Luca planned on using Grid Launch to make their positions only grid-temporary.


    And then, for the first few laps, Miles could fight with Max and Aaronson while he looked for more openings.


    The toughest opponents occupied P4 to P10. Luca''s objective was to escape this throng and move farther up the pack, where drivers he could easily dominate were.


    He needed to escape his rivals as early as possible. A line of Aaronson, Max, Luca, and Miles prophesied nothing but danger.


    "...Here we go! The grid is set, the final race of the season, the Italian Mega Prix, and this is where it all comes down! Oliver Kristensen, for the first time, starts on pole! Benjamin Taubert alongside him in P2, and James Legrasse in P3¡ªcan they hold their ground into Turn One?"


    "... Midfield is packed! That is where all eyes would be, awaiting their launch in order!"


    Everyone in Trampos had taken their positions in the paddock or the telemetry room. Mr. Ruben, Colt, and Mr. Moritz made some quick checks with Luca and Haas as the lights were set to flash on any second now.


    **Track temp is holding at 39 degrees. So, we might focus a lot on tire warm-up for some time**


    "Oh, ok¡ª okay. Got it," Luca replied, thinking. "It must be getting cold out there, right?"


    **Yes. Soft wind** Mr. Ruben informed, taking in a deep breath of the cool air that had just rushed in from the paddock and into the garage, filling everyone''s lungs with calm. **In fact, tailwind into Turn 6, crosswind into its chicane. Could unsettle braking**


    "Okay...."


    **Tire wear is assured regardless of an early push or not. So, we push early and make it count** Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire


    Luca nodded and gripped his wheel tighter. The first light had just flashed on!


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "Heh. So, no mercy." S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    **No mercy**


    Luca gripped his wheel tighter as the second light flashed on. The heat from his car gradually spread through his body, and the heat from the opponents rippled the air.


    Luca''s mind flicked back to the Daily Quest his system had issued right before the grid lineup.


    [-¡¤-CRASH ONE RIVAL IN THIS 75-LAP RACE-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: nil]


    This felt like a very absurd Daily Quest to Luca and he couldn''t understand why his system would issue such.


    "You... you must be kidding, right?" he had asked the system and it replied negatively.


    [Critical moments demand decisive action.] the System repeated as its explanation.


    Luca sighed in his cockpit, now forced to contemplate who he''d have to victimize to accomplish this ridiculous task.


    Crashing an opponent legally was already difficult¡ªtoo difficult. If the system had granted him a Skill for that kind of a thing, maybe he''d consider it. But without that? Executing something so outright mischievous was practically a gamble.


    And if the target was a top rival like Aaronson, Max, or Miles? That made things even harder. They were too good at defending. Any aggressive move would immediately look like a DNF attempt. And it was something the stewards would catch onto for screening and penalize him in a heartbeat.


    Luca thought about crashing other drivers on the grid. Other drivers that weren''t in championship contention. Maybe he could drop back down the pack purposefully just to victimize one unlucky fellow.


    But doing that would just be total malevolence and wickedness. And climbing back up might be another task.


    In fact, Luca wondered if he even had to complete this Daily Quest. He had expected it to be [-¡¤-EMERGE FIRST OUT OF THIS 75-LAP RACE-¡¤-]. Instead, it was something else. How does crashing one rival assure he wins the race?


    Maybe it''s the Rewards, Luca thought. But I still don''t know why you want me to cause someone to crash.


    Luca remembered the Rewards the system had listed for him. He also tried to remember if there was a punishment attached.


    [-¡¤-CRASH ONE RIVAL IN THIS 75-LAP RACE-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: nil]


    [Eliminating a rival will significantly increase your chances of winning this race and securing the F2 Championship as a whole.]


    [Reward for Completing Saturday''s Daily Quest: (EXP)


    -Strength +1


    -Endurance +1


    ~Acquire a takeaway


    -Tuning Upgrade


    [Consequence for Failing Saturday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Red sores.]


    Luca asked his system what this Tuning Upgrade meant. But it responded with no real details about it, saying he''d have to acquire it first before having access to its information. However, the system mentioned it was a feature just like how Sync Buff was.


    Sync Buff had been great to Luca so far, the major reason for his race wins. So, if this Tuning Upgrade was a feature just like Sync Buff, then it meant it''d be as useful or even more considering it came later to him than Sync Buff.


    Still, Luca wasn''t sure about risking the life of a rival to acquire a new feature.


    If he failed, he''d get red sores! How horrible is that?!


    So, if even if he won the race without accomplishing the quest, he''d be celebrating the F2 Championship trophy with red, itchy skin?!


    Luca decided he''d attempt it. After all, he was able to even do it twice in Le Castellet without getting a penalty. One to John Roberts, and one to Max Addams.


    All five lights were bright and clear now, piercing through the evening atmosphere.


    The crowd silenced themselves and lowered their flags.


    "...And now, all five lights are on¡­ the engines are roaring, the tension is unbearable! Every driver locked in, eyes fixed ahead, fingers twitching over the clutch paddles. One final breath before the chaos erupts!"


    All SomberCores growled in unison, creating a deep sonorous sound that stretched gradually across the grid.


    The smell of burning rubber and high-octane fuel saturated the air. It was thick and intoxicating, but smelt different to Luca and the other drivers. For them, it was fuel to their veins.


    Aaronson flexed his hand on his wheel. So did Max, Luca and Miles, their pulse steady and intense as they locked their eyes on the red lights waiting for the moment the columns go blank.

 Chapter 220 Italian Mega Prix. 2

    "...The crowd is on their feet, thousands holding their breath in unison! This is it¡ªthe final race of the season, the Italian Mega Prix! No more calculations, no more second chances¡ªit all comes down to this moment!"


    "...The lights are still on¡­ still holding¡­ the anticipation is unreal¡­ and¡ª!"


    "Lights out, Luca," Luca huffed, engaging his controls. "Let''s do this."


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...LAST GRID OF THE SEASON! We''re driving in Monza!"


    Miles'' tires spun in fury, the ridges gripping the asphalt for traction as fast as possible.


    Luca''s own tires were able to perform that just a little bit faster due to his Grid Launch. So, he got traction early enough, and instead of trailing behind Miles from the start, Luca jumped to share P6 with him as they crossed the start/finish line behind the leading drivers.


    "...the Italian Mega Prix is underway! They crawl off the line with Luca Rennick jumping off to battle Bellingham even before Turn 1!"


    [Grid Launch +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    Luca''s cockpit view rattled once he leaped out of his grid box and joined Miles to begin the race. They quickly followed the leaders of the pack into the short path that led to Turn 1.


    Solid barricades lined the track, towering walls of steel and advertisement boards closed down on them after the Tribuna Centrale. This brief confinement brought Miles'' car close, fighting for an early grip as well.


    One slight misjudgment, one twitch of the wheel, and metal would meet metal with nowhere to escape.


    If Luca wanted to escape more of this in this race, he''d have to get as far as possible and as early as possible.


    The short alleyway was completed and Luca could see Dani Walding''s blue Dallara bending into Turn 1.


    [Track Span Analysis: 7.5 meters wide (limited maneuverability due to barriers)]


    [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 5.2 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters]


    [Margin for Error: 2.3 meters (shared with other cars, potential overlap)]


    Luckily it was a right-hander, and Luca was to the right, so he had a better chance of using the inside lane to his advantage.


    He titled his wheel, directed by the numbers and the arrowheads of his system. He made adjustments when necessary and his engine supplied just the right power to make his chassis obey.


    Miles saw he was losing P6 so early, but there was really nothing he could do about it. He covered enough ground on the left, but Luca''s inside maneuver had left him powerless.


    Luca glided in, forcing Miles to tuck behind before the right-hander abruptly changed to a left-hander, beginning Turn 2.


    "...And Rennick dives to the inside for Turn 1! Top four hasn''t changed but P6 surely has!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...That''s textbook racecraft from Luca Rennick¡ªcalculated, clinical! He saw the gap, committed, and now he''s got P6, fronting his championship rivals in the Italian Mega Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [6th Position]


    That was a fantastic start to the race, fueling Trampos'' optimism. The German crowd erupted in cheers, celebrating the moment, but the Trampos crew remained silent.


    They didn''t want to get ahead of themselves. They had seen races unravel too many times before, and with 75 laps ahead, anything could happen. Excitement was one thing, but they knew better than to let their emotions ride too high too soon.


    No premature celebrations. Everyone had silently promised.


    [Analyzing 7th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [7th Position is 0.8 sec away, host.]


    Miles wasn''t done yet, that was for sure. So, Luca, now on the defensive, had to make sure he didn''t lose P6 over Turn 2 and Curva Grande, Turn 3.


    Tire temp was building up much faster than Luca expected, so he could be able to drive efficiently through the steepness of Turn 3.


    "...and Miles Bellingham would try to take back what''s his! He''s already closing in, just eight-tenths behind, and with Turn 2 leading straight into the sweeping third, he''s got a golden opportunity to fight back!"


    "...Luca might have won the inside line into Turn 1, but now he''s on the defensive! He''ll have to manage that grip carefully¡ªbecause with the way tire wear is creeping in, he might struggle to hold pace through the high-speed left-hander ahead!"


    [8th Position closing in]


    [9th Position closing in]


    Oh no. Luca had almost forgotten about the two other threats creeping up behind him. Barely ten seconds into the race, Luca bet they were already hungry for position.


    He couldn''t afford to focus solely on Miles. If he lost momentum, it wouldn''t just be P6 slipping away, it''d be a disastrous drop to P9, with Max and Aaronson capitalizing on every bit of lost speed.


    A split-second decision for Luca.


    Instead of going full defensive, Luca realized the better move was to attack. Push for Dani Walding. Push for P5. If he could get ahead, he''d naturally create a gap, keeping Miles and the others at bay.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    Unbelievable, Luca thought.


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    Right at the apex of Turn 2, Dani Walding was already locked in a fierce early duel with Albert Derstappen, a veteran of the grid.


    Maybe even Dani understood the situation that if he didn''t keep moving forward, he''d be the one swallowed by the pack.


    Smart, Luca thought.


    So, from the aerial view, it was just a swarm of Dallaras, jostling and lunging, every driver desperate to carve their own path through the chaos.


    Not until Turn 3 did the pack suddenly contort like an earthworm, snaking in a synchronized, desperate rhythm.


    The arc of the turn coiled like a python, displaying the first field of grass in Autodromo di Lombardia. And then the steepness caused everyone''s tires to scream with traction loss, rubber clawing desperately for grip.


    They''d navigated this before in the qualifying session, but it totally felt different for some reason. Perhaps, different atmosphere and objectives caused this contrast.


    Luca''s helmet tilted a bit because of the G-load, but he endured it like a champ, compared to his rivals who suffered the strain to their neck.


    [Endurance +1]


    Slowly, Oliver Kristensen wormed his way through, Taubert followed, and Legrasse barely made it. In fact, he didn''t¡ªhe had to take the runoff area at Turn 3.


    A treacherous turn like that always had a runoff section. Runoff areas were extra tarmac, gravel, or grass beyond the track limits meant to slow down or redirect cars that couldn''t make the corner. In Serpeggiare, it was still tarmac, but that didn''t mean it was any less time-punishing.


    Much to Luca''s surprise, Dani Walding gave up the fight and diverted into the runoff as well.


    **Great. Push**


    "...Turn 3 forces Legrasse and Walding to regroup rather than risk a spin! Can they rejoin quick enough?!"


    "WOOOOHH!" S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    In Luca''s mind, there was no way they''d rejoin in time. He had three bloodthirsty drivers breathing down his neck, rivals who would seize any opportunity to keep him from advancing.


    So even though it was guaranteed Luca would slip out of Turn 3''s exit before Legrasse and Walding, there was no telling whether Miles, Max, and Aaronson would allow two cars to act as a buffer between them and the Trampos Dallara.


    Zip!


    Legrasse held his breath as Luca sliced out of the exit. The runoff was safer¡­ but longer.


    [4th Position]


    Zip!


    Miles followed, less than a second behind. Legrasse barely clawed his way back onto the track, rejoining from the intersection just before Mad Max could cut him off!


    Max, forced to lift off, cursed into his helmet. The sudden obstruction killed his momentum, and all he could do was fume as Legrasse got away.


    For Dani Walding, his worst fear of tumbling down the leaderboard was playing out regardless. Max¡ªhis own teammate¡ªhad just slipped through, and now his only hope was to slot in before Aaronson got there.


    "¡­It''s very tight for Dani Walding! He''s desperate to get back in before Sean Aaronson, but Aaronson isn''t lifting! They''re side by side at the merge¡ª"


    "Cunt," Aaronson muttered under his breath, throwing his car past the intersection without a shred of concern for Dani Walding.


    The moment Dani veered back in, Aaronson''s back-left tire clipped his front-right.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "¡­CONTACT BETWEEN ARONSON AND WALDING AT CURVA GRANDE!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca had been splitting his focus, glancing at his side mirror to track where Walding would rejoin. After all, Dani Walding was a Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr driver, and his finishing position could be crucial to Trampos'' victory.


    But now?


    It looked like Dani Walding wouldn''t be finishing the Italian Mega Prix at all.


    His car sat lifeless at the side of the track, its front tires locked up in a choking cloud of smoke. Aaronson still moving, the entire crowd gone wild.

 Chapter 221 Italian Mega Prix. 3

    Being the minority never mattered in situations like this. As long as their attendance reached up to ten thousand, enough to cause a roar, Trampos had found their voice over Bueseno Velocit¨¤.


    A DNF for Velocit¨¤ Jnr driver Dani Walding on the first lap of the Italian Mega Prix was the most humiliating feat of the season, far more demeaning than Ansel''s similar first-lap DNF back in Budapest. Find adventures at My Virtual Library Empire


    At least Ansel''s crash had a thrill to it and was understandable because he was in a duel with Miles before one of his tires clopped away, sending him into the barricades.


    Dani Walding, however, didn''t skid away in a cinematic manner. He just remained seated at the intersection, his right tire fuming with smoke as all twenty-nine other drivers moved past before the flags waved.


    This was the 12th lap, and even though that happened on the first lap, chants kept on going for twenty more minutes.


    Dani Walding was escorted off the track back then as the safety car parade began, totally abating the first lap of its sudden action. He was then deemed unable to finish the race.


    Wonderful news for Trampos Racing! Even Luca didn''t expect such fortune to drop before them so early in the Italian Mega Prix.


    A rival team''s driver had just failed to finish. This meant Trampos'' chances of winning the championship were almost solidified, increased by 25% if mathematically calculated!


    Everyone in the Trampos crew understood this, but instead of openly expressing their joy, they stuck to their plan of avoiding premature celebrations until the very end. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Silence and calm remained in the garage as if they weren''t the team that would benefit the most from Dani Walding''s fizzle.


    But the silence was nothing compared to that which reigned in Velocit¨¤ Jnr''s garage, a stone''s throw down the pit lane from Trampos'' garage.


    Mr. Lugo and his head engineer had their jaws tightly clenched, their hard mandibles visibly outlined.


    A DNF where the driver was barely hurt felt like an embarrassment. It was as if it had all been for nothing, their efforts useless, with the driver returning to the garage without even the slightest scar of a battle.


    Mr. Lugo felt like grabbing the collar of any of his pit crew workers and delivering a heavy punch to the innocent soul just to exert his anger somewhere. His mind kept recalling the commentary, even though it had been twenty minutes now.


    "...AND HE''S OUT! HE''S OUT! Dani Walding is stranded at the intersection, completely immobilized...!"


    "...What a nightmare for Velocit¨¤ Jnr! This is NOT how they wanted to start the Italian Mega Prix! Look at that¡ªWalding''s car isn''t even moving! Just billowing smoke as the rest of the grid storms past...!"


    "...Absolutely gutting for Velocit¨¤ Jnr! That''s an early DNF for Walding, and we''re only in the opening lap! And look at Sean Aaronson, he''s still going! No damage to his car at all...!"


    The most frustrating part was that a lap later, race control announced their verdict of Aaronson being not guilty on the basis of a tight-intersection crash.


    "...What a disastrous start for the Italian outfit at their home race. That''s a championship-impacting moment right there...!"


    The timing did catch Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr and all their supporters off guard, as no one had expected such an early DNF.


    But if it was to happen, they were somewhat glad it happened early in the race, almost as if Dani Walding didn''t participate at all. This gave Mr. Lugo and his strategists the opportunity to dig up Plan D, re-strategize themselves, and inform Max, who was still on track, of their changes and what he should do from now on in order to make up for the lost blue.


    "...It still marvels me, Jon. This is a MAJOR blow to Velocit¨¤ Jnr''s title ambitions! A two-on-one battle now, with Trampos holding all the cards!"


    "...They needed every point they could get today, and now¡­ now their title hopes are hanging by a thread in this Italian Mega Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Tires are in less than ideal condition, host. Fuel level at 60%. DRS is unavailable. Engine temperature slightly stable. Brake wear at 40%.]


    [Telemetry reports fair handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. Recommend maintaining current pace. However, a pit stop is strongly recommended immediately to refresh your tires and maintain performance for the race.]


    In the 12th Lap, Luca was still in P4. He had had many opportunities to overtake Derstappen, but it felt out of reach for some reason.


    The tight curves of the track were a great hurdle to overcome, not to talk of planning an overtake. Luca made sure his turn exits were smooth and steady, focusing on correcting understeer and oversteer when necessary. This would help him fully adjust and master the demands of the track ahead of the more intense laps to come.


    As expected, Max Addams took P7 from Legrasse at the 7th Lap. Even though it took him some time, he managed it, throwing James Legrasse into Aaronson''s jaws. Now, Luca, Miles, and Max were lined up again, and Luca was considering a pit.


    Luca''s car wasn''t in bad condition, so he hoped Pitstop Prodigy would shave off a lot of time for him. Even if Miles would definitely take P4, Luca was confident he could slip in before Max or, if possible, merge side by side.


    For now, he had to make it into the 13th Lap and head into the pitlane.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 1.5 seconds away, host.]


    Luca deliberately gave himself and Derstappen some space as they headed into the tight chicane that featured Turns 13, 14, and 15. Luca knew better than to follow a rival closely at this part of the track because this was the track''s signature sequence.


    [Turn Sequence: Three-turn chicane (Left-Right-Left)]


    [Entry Width: 7.5 meters ¡ú Narrowing to Apex: 6.2 meters ¡ú Exit Width: 7.8 meters]


    Derstappen''s tires rumbled over the strangely high curbs. The curbs were 5mm in height, very unusual but important for a tight chicane like this. It helped Derstappen sweep into Turn 14 before he used his rear to wedge himself out at the apex.


    It was a brief drift for Derstappen, and his car was now directed into Turn 15.


    Perfect! Luca thought. He and Derstappen had navigated this chicane eleven times already, and this was, so far, Derstappen''s best, most efficient feat.


    The longer you race on the track, the more it becomes second nature...


    Luca decided to imitate him by throwing his car in that same manner, instead of gradually snaking through the chicane, which was a real momentum killer.


    He mimicked Derstappen''s maneuver, letting his tires rattle over the harsh curbs before soaring into Turn 14. His fast gave him a nice but blurry view of a cherry tree beyond the track. The cherry tree served as a marker, informing him there was still one turn ahead to complete the chicane.


    Luca then flicked the rear just right, wedging himself out at the apex and sliding cleanly into Turn 15.


    By then, Derstappen was already rounding the normal Turn 16, heading toward the final straight.


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [5th Position is 1.2 sec away, host.]


    Luca''s priority now was to gain as many milliseconds as he could with the upcoming straight and even the home straight that would loom very soon.


    He pushed his car through the rangy Turn 16. It was just like any other roaming turn that gave a nice sweeping view of the blur of cars from the grandstands.


    It served as an arc, leading to the entrance of the fourth straight.


    [600 m straightaway ahead]

 Chapter 222 Italian Mega Prix. 4

    Luca''s eyes caught the DRS marker to the side. He really thought about using DRS for Derstappen, but he wasn''t yet within a second of him. And while a one-second delta was ideal for DRS usage, using DRS beyond that might lead to a waste of SomberCore energy.


    Luca was relieved to see Derstappen''s rear wings still closed, meaning he wasn''t using DRS on whoever was in front of him. So, both drivers sped down the straight, pushing their engines a fraction beyond their normal max speed.


    It was a brief rest, as they had to slam their brakes once more, tilting their wheels into the next chicane: Turns 17, 18, and 19.


    **Luca, box crew is prepped and ready. Tires and fuel set. You''re good to pit whenever**


    **Window is open, but stay out if pace holds. Your call**


    "First thing next lap," Luca responded, feeling his downforce waver as he forced a right-left-right melee.


    Once again, he and Derstappen managed to make use of the red-and-white-striped curbs that marked the corner apexes, their color slightly faded by years of sun exposure and tire abrasion.


    It helped their tires shift back on track whenever there was a slight loss of traction that would have meant some real danger.


    Turn 19 swept past a huge field of grass before merging into the last merciless combination of corners.


    "WOOOOHH!" the crowd roared as Benjamin Taubert''s tires hit the curbs in a sickening manner that totally ruined his momentum for the pursuit of Kristensen''s P1.


    "...And here comes Oliver Kristensen, storming onto the home straight to officially kick off Lap 13 of the Italian Mega Prix! Right behind, Benjamin Taubert follows through, keeping the pressure alive. Albert Derstappen in P3, but look at Luca Rennick¡ªhe''s right on his tail, closing in with every meter...!"


    "....The entire pack isn''t far behind! At this rate, we might just see the whole grid make it onto Lap 13 in mere moments...!"


    "...Tredicesimo giro del Gran Premio d''Italia!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [650m Straightaway ahead]


    "What''s my delta from Miles? 2 seconds now?"


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [5th Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [Yes, host.]


    Good. He had just enough buffer to dive into the pits without losing too much ground¡ªif the stop was clean.


    He barreled down the stretch, the roar of the crowd blending into the shrill pitch of his engine. The pit entry was closing in, flanked by the black ribbons.


    [13th Lap]


    The Trampos crew stood ready as Luca''s car approached, waves of heat radiating from his chassis like a mirage in the desert. Every motion was precise and every second accounted for in a pit.


    Luca held steady at the pit lane speed limit, his focus locked on his team''s garage rather than the jeers, insults, and shouts echoing from rival camps as he coasted past.


    Passing Squadra Jnr''s bay, his eyes flicked over their pit crew that were already in motion. Was Miles about to pit? he thought.


    A quick glance at the side mirror confirmed it. Miles'' black and gold Dallara was at the pit lane''s entrance, not roaring past toward Turn 1 as Luca had expected, but rolling in at the same time.


    As soon as Luca stopped in his box, Trampos sprang into action. Every move was synchronized, seamless. His chassis responded to their touch like a well-tuned instrument, and in mere seconds, he was good to go.


    2.5 seconds. Unbelievable.


    "... IMPOSSIBLE FOR AN F2 TEAM! THATS A RECORD IN FORMULA 2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **You''re good to go!**


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    During the course of the 12 Laps before the third, Luca was able to get the first bar full with a point to Spatial Awareness. The notification had come as:


    [Spatial Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    Luca was still uneasy about how the new Sync Buff mechanism would play out in this race. He wished he had tested it in a less critical event rather than the Italian Mega Prix.


    Then, he remembered the Tuning Upgrade promised as a reward for his Daily Quest, which he had yet to complete.


    [-¡¤-CRASH ONE RIVAL IN THIS 75-LAP RACE-¡¤-]


    One driver had already DNFed¡ªDani Walding¡ªbut that was Aaronson''s doing, not his.


    That raised a very important question for Luca: how much involvement did I actually need for the system to recognize the crash as my doing?


    Did Luca have to make physical contact, like Aaronson''s tire clipping Walding''s? Or could he simply pressure a rival into an error, like when he forced Max into a crash back in France?


    Still unsure, Luca asked his system.


    [For host''s indulgence to be recognized by the system, a Skill must be in use at the moment of the crash.]


    That meant he couldn''t just cause a crash by raw aggression, he needed to be actively using a Skill for it to count. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "That''s really not fair y''know," Luca said. "So if I just ram into someone, it won''t work?"


    [That would be the use of Strength¡ªan Attribute, not a Skill.]


    Then, the system recalled past crashes it had acknowledged.


    [Retrieving data....]


    [... successfully retrieved!]


    [¡ªBritish Grand Prix: Spatial Awareness: #09, Orange Dallara (F2 04) rival.]


    [¡ªFrench Grand Prix: Side-by-Side King: #13, Blue Dallara (F2 04) rival.]


    Luca''s eyes widened slightly.


    "Ohhhhhh. I see what you mean."


    So, this simply meant if Luca wanted this Tuning Upgrade and prevent getting red sores, he''d have to be actively using a skill while he was carrying out the action of crashing his opponent.


    Luca groaned in exasperation, wondering where he would even find the nerve to deliberately crash a fellow driver.


    He had already sped out of the pits, aiming to rejoin the race before Max Addams could take P4.


    But Max had been too close to Miles all along. He wasn''t backing down. With a sharp move, he soared past, diving aggressively into Turn 1.


    "...MAX ADDAMS IN P4!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    From his earlier calculations, Luca remembered James Legrasse had been right behind Max. He quickly checked his side mirrors just to see if Miles was still in his pit box. He was.


    Great!


    Luca could slot in before Legrasse and Aaronson, which would push Miles further down the order.


    However, as he reached the intersection, his heart sank. The Dallara in his peripheral wasn''t Legrasse''s, it was a more familiar one, painted in rival colors.


    Unbeknownst to Luca, Aaronson had activated DRS on the home straight and overtaken Legrasse.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s system instantly recognized the threat and flashed an urgent track analysis.


    [Trajectory Assessment: Pitlane disadvantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 5th Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 39% throttle; maintain intersection apex trajectory. Anticipate 5th Position''s outside pressure.] Enjoy new adventures from My Virtual Library Empire


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 5th Position). Adjust for slight traction loss at exit to regain position.]


    A sly grin spread across Aaronson''s lips as he barreled down the track with reckless abandon, his intentions crystal clear.


    Imagine how legendary it''d be to take out two rival teams'' drivers in one day.

 Chapter 223 Italian Mega Prix. 5

    Luckily, with the help of his system, Luca was able to fully anticipate Aaronson''s approach and the speed of his own Dallara leaving the pitlane to rejoin the race.


    He made necessary adjustments when merging, whisking into the farther left side of the track instead of the inner right like everyone expected. The crowd awed as Aaronson joined Luca with terrifying speed on that lane, speed that was enough to send one car skidding if contact had occurred.


    "...And look at that speed from Sean Aaronson! He came flying down the track, any slight contact would have sent one of them skidding off...!"


    "...But Luca escapes! He rejoins cleanly, wasting not a fraction of a second...!"


    "...That was razor-sharp decision-making from Rennick, adjusting his reentry, and veering to the far left to switch lanes, completely catching Aaronson off guard!"


    Aaronson was bummed that he wasn''t fast enough to get Luca and eliminate one driver in this finale. Even though he might be handed a stern penalty, let''s say 30 seconds, Aaronson was confident he could make it up with the 50+ laps to go in this Italian Mega Prix.


    After the feat performed by Luca, Turn 1 quickly opened, and Aaronson went for the inside, leaving Luca to round out at his peripheral vision.


    "Insecurity and paranoia, you say," Aaronson muttered under his breath, stealing a blurry glance at Luca. "I invite you to a dogfight, pal. Let''s see how you''ll fare with cold tires."


    Sometimes Luca wished Pitstop Prodigy also affected the condition he''d leave the pits with. Cold tires were a nightmare. Without optimal temperature, they lacked grip, making acceleration sluggish, braking unpredictable, and cornering a problem.


    If Pitstop Prodigy also helped him leave the pitlane with hot new tires, ready for grip, then that''d be much better. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Where Serpeggiare was a track designed for turns, Luca''s cold tires wouldn''t get him anywhere if he didn''t take it steady at least until the last straight.


    Taking it steady with a wild-card rival beside him would be no easy feat. Aaronson would look for any hesitation in Luca''s braking, pushing him to misjudge a turn and run wide. He could feint a divebomb, forcing Luca into a defensive line that would only worsen his cold-tire struggles.


    Luca gritted his teeth. He didn''t plan on dropping back or losing any bit of momentum. James Legrasse had entered his system''s radius and was distanced at 2 seconds.


    Luca deployed Side-by-Side King as best as he could to fight back and gain the upper hand.


    Turn 2 came fast, and both drivers naturally switched trajectory due to track structure, crisscrossing their paths. Luca''s cold tires twitched under braking, but he held firm. It was difficult to fully execute Side-by-Side King in an unstable track like a chicane, and his cold tires made the feat more difficult.


    [Ding!]


    [Side-by-Side King failed due to cold tires]


    [Estimated Time for Optimal Tire Temperature: 2.5 laps under standard racing conditions¡ª1 Lap for host.]


    [Acceleration and cornering compromised until 85% heat threshold is reached]


    [Recommendation: Gradual weight transfer through turns to generate heat efficiently]


    Aaronson, relentless, edged closer, trying to muscle Luca off the ideal racing line. His front wing lurked dangerously near Luca''s sidepod, threatening a wheel-to-wheel clash.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s rear skated as he tried to balance throttle and steering, but Aaronson wasn''t backing down. He crowded Luca into the narrowest possible exit, making sure any attempt to accelerate would be a risk.


    "Damn it!" Luca muttered. He had to find a way to push back, but Turn 3 was already looming ahead. If Aaronson boxed him in here, Luca might not even make it through unscathed.


    "...Hot driving from Aaronson! He''s absolutely muscling Luca off the racing line, refusing to give an inch through Turn 2...!" Explore more adventures at My Virtual Library Empire


    "... Rennick is struggling on those cold tires, and Aaronson knows it, he''s piling on the pressure, forcing him wide! This is aggressive driving, Steve..."


    **Don''t panic-brake, Luca. Hold your position. You''re still in the fight. Temps should reach manageable condition in a few more corners**


    "Turn 3, I won''t survive."


    Just then, an announcement was made once Luca and Aaronson drove into Curva Grande, his grip nowhere near stable.


    "...AVVERTIMENTO ALLA VETTURA #09, SEAN AARONSON, PER GUIDA AGGRESSIVA. MANTIENI UNA CONDOTTA DI GARA CORRETTA..."


    "...WARNING TO CAR #09, SEAN AARONSON, FOR AGGRESSIVE DRIVING. MAINTAIN RACING CONDUCT..."


    "BOOOOOO!"


    **Aaronson''s been warned, Luca. Race control''s on him now. He might ease off, so keep your line steady**


    Luca exhaled sharply, hands gripping the wheel as he fought to stabilize his car. He wondered if the word "might" meant Aaronson still had the choice.


    If he successfully forced Luca to a DNF, Luca wondered if a thirty seconds penalty would be even termed justice.


    "....And there it is! A well-deserved warning for Aaronson¡ªhe''s been pushing Luca dangerously through these turns. We''ve seen him muscle competitors before, but that squeeze at Turn 2 was right on the edge of what''s acceptable. Race control stepping in was the right call...!"


    It seemed the majority of fans were not impressed by the judgement, and they were anticipating Luca''s downfall after he left the pitlane.


    Aaronson clenched his jaw, eyes flicking to the race tower as the warning flashed across his dashboard. He wanted to press on, to force Luca into a mistake, but the risk was too high now. Another move like that, and he could be staring at a penalty.


    He was still in championship contention, he didn''t have to compromise that now. There were still many laps to come in this race, and he was sure he could catch Luca again.


    He growled audibly to his engineers and backed off slightly as both drivers reached the steep apex of Turn 3.


    [Traction unstable]


    Luca wasn''t going to take any chances. He despised traction issues because without it, he was just a canoe drifting on a river. Nearly all his Skills relied on grip: Chopping Skills, Side-by-Side King, Overtaking, even Reflexes. Without traction, he couldn''t execute them properly.


    Approaching Curva Grande, he analyzed the slanted structure of the turn. The tarmac leaned slightly toward the curbs, offering minimal assistance. In that moment, he understood exactly what Dani Walding must have seen in that split second when he miscalculated here.


    [Track Span Analysis: 2.5 meters wide (inside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 1.8 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.3 meters (0.15 meters on each side)]


    Luca decided to take the runoff area instead of forcing his way through the bottleneck. His tires were still far from optimal, and he couldn''t risk a full-throttle commitment through Curva Grande, not with Aaronson lurking like a vulture, ready to capitalize on the slightest mistake.


    As he veered toward the escape road, his hands worked fast, counter-steering to keep the Dallara stable. Suddenly, the rougher surface of the runoff area rumbled beneath him. It was a sharp, strangely soothing difference to the smooth racing line of the turns he had just abandoned.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Deviation Detected: Runoff Path Engaged]


    [Grip Adjustment: 67% Efficiency]


    [Exit Projection: Time Loss Estimated ¨C 1.2 seconds]


    "...Luca Rennick takes the runoff at Curva Grande! He''s opting for the escape road instead of forcing the issue through that tightening bottleneck..!"


    "...Smart decision from him. He''ll lose some time, but at least he avoids a potential spin or worse...!"


    "Coward," Aaronson huffed, catching a glimpse of Luca through the heat haze, both their cars blurring at the edges.


    For a brief moment, their paths ran parallel, until Turn 3''s final curvature forced Aaronson outward, splitting their trajectories like the diverging arms of a slanted "K," the holographic number 5 hovering over his chassis.


    [Time Loss Estimated ¨C 1.1 seconds]

 Chapter 224 Italian Mega Prix. 6

    Luca heard that runoff tracks often help better tire temperature. Maybe it was because of the difference in the texture of the tarmac. It was darker, more abrasive, designed to promote higher friction.


    That extra resistance could generate the heat his cold tires desperately needed. If he could use this brief moment to build temperature without losing too much time, he might just turn this gamble into an advantage. "Huh!"


    As Luca sped down the runoff area, aiming to rejoin the race before too many cars surged past, the grandstands erupted with movement.


    A crowd of Velocit¨¤ Jnr supporters¡ªloyal fans of the entire Bueseno Velocit¨¤ team in general¡ªsprang to their feet, pressing against the barricades that separated them from the runoff track.


    As Luca''s Trampos Dallara streaked past at a speed that was moderate by racing standards but still intimidating up close, the reaction from the fans was immediate and hostile. Jeers and insults filled the air, fingers jabbed in his direction, and middle fingers shot up in unison.


    Luca blinked, caught off guard.


    He had always been told by Mr. Fisher, Mr. Grant, and Mallow to never take fan reactions too seriously, but this was something else entirely.


    The sheer intensity of it, the way even those seated farther away stood up, waiting for the exact moment he would pass them just to scream at him... it was astonishing.


    Even with the loud noise of his SomberCore and the padding of his helmet, Luca could make out the faintest echoes of their fury.


    He forced himself to ignore them, shifting his focus to his right, where the distinct screech of two approaching engines cut through the noise.


    "...James Legrasse in P6!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Peter De Klerk in P7!"


    Just as De Klerk swung out of the curvature, the glowing holographic #7 hovering over his orange Dallara, Luca slotted back onto the track.


    To his surprise, he rejoined right as Haas came flying past, and in an instant, the two cars merged into a tight share, side by side through the remainder of Turn 3.


    [9th Position]


    "Bad drop!"


    Haas was slightly ahead of Luca as they raced side-by-side exiting turn 3 toward a rangy Turn 4 that led to the second straight of the track.


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    "... Rennick is back on track but it was a costly detour, taking him to almost P10. Now, he''s clutched with his teammate, Erik Haas...."


    According to the Tiered Pursuit strategy, which Trampos had adopted since July, Haas was expected to deliberately give Luca the better racing line for a clean overtake.


    Haas understood this, and without even communicating on the radio, he began moving his car to the outer lane for Luca to take the inner lane at Turn 4.


    Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton smiled with delight, seeing their drivers expertly make the necessary adjustments for a smooth handover of position. This was exactly how it was meant to be.


    [Analyzing 10th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [10th Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    The moment Luca saw Miles'' black and golden Dallara in his side mirror, a shot of nostalgia surged through him as if this exact moment had played out in a dream before.


    He had completely forgotten that Miles was still in the pits when he left, so it made sense that he''d be catching up anytime soon.


    **Bellingham is approaching fast. Take P8 before the straight**


    **Erik is yet to box today. You have better Operational Status, Luca. Take P8 before the straight**


    "...We see a strange formation between Luca Rennick and Erik Haas, drivers of our table leaders! Are they defending against Miles Bellingham, or is Erik Haas giving Luca the position...?!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Miles gripped his wheel tighter, his focus sharpening as two Trampos Dallaras loomed before him, their red lights flashing with every curving point of Turn 4.


    Miles had cold tires, not yet hot enough for tough duels, but he was going to go for it. After all, he was unchallenged through Turn 3 that''s why he didn''t take the runoff track. And if he could just slip in through the space created by these two red drivers...


    Even without taking note of their car numbers, Miles knew exactly how Luca drove and he identified Luca as the driver edging to the inner lane, and Haas, his teammate, as the one who had a drop of momentum as if he was tapping on his brake more than necessary for just a simple sweeping turn.


    **Get in there, Miles!**


    Vrmmmmm!


    Miles'' cold tires spun like a motor fan and his car lunged straight ahead, nosing in between Luca and Haas.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The crowd erupted as Miles committed to the dive, his black and golden Dallara slicing between Luca and Haas like a bullet threading a needle.


    "...Miles Bellingham goes for the gap! Look at that¡ªright between the two Trampos cars...!"


    [8th Position]


    Luca had successfully taken P8 from Haas, but they were all on the same lane by the naked eye. It was a three-wide show down right at the apex of Turn 4.


    Luca, spotting Miles'' nose gradually creeping up beside him, instantly reacted. His grip tightened, instincts flaring.


    Haas, on the other hand, had already been easing off, but now he hesitated. Was he supposed to close the gap or leave it open?


    The split-second hesitation was all Miles had needed. His car, despite the lack of grip, found just enough traction to wedge itself into the narrowing space. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The delight on Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton''s faces instantly turned into a frown.


    Three drivers battling for space was never a good thing. Haas was supposed to use the space Miles had intercepted to tuck in behind Luca without losing ground. Now, if he had to tuck in, he''d have to brake hard, letting them move ahead before sliding behind.


    That wasn''t an option. The Tiered Pursuit strategy was meant to give the teammate the upper hand¡ªnot a rival!


    **That was reckless! He''s just throwing himself in and hoping for the best!** Haas complained.


    **Stay focused. Bellingham is committed now. Prepare to fight back on the straight** Mr. Ruben chimed in.


    Luca wanted to suggest that he and Haas box Miles in, but he wondered what other trick his old high school classmate had up his sleeve.


    Besides, boxing in a rival at turns was never advisable because he might just use the track structure to wedge his way out. A straightaway was ideal for that.


    [500m Straightaway ahead]


    Luca remembered his Daily Quest.


    Hmm. It might just be time for you to crash, Miles, he thought slowly.


    His tires seemed fine enough to execute his Skills, so at the straight, Luca would fire all he had with Side-by-Side King while instructing Haas to press Miles in.


    There''d be no way Miles wouldn''t falter into a mistake!


    The straight opened, and Luca''s system calculated as expected. However, a frown appeared on his face as he noticed something before even Trampos'' engineers did.


    Before the straight, the entrance from Turn 4 slimmed down. It wasn''t wide enough for three cars to pass through simultaneously.


    [Turn Exit Width: 6.2 meters]


    [Total Car Widths Occupied: 5.7 meters]


    [Available Space: 0.5 meters (0.25 meters per side)]


    [High-Risk Collision Probability: 83%]


    **Erik, drop back, mate**


    Miles saw it too, and a grin spread across his face. Stuck in the middle, he was making it through regardless. One of them at the sides had to back off¡ªit was just a matter of who.


    "... IT''S A TIGHT SQUEEZE BEFORE THE STRAIGHT!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Haas'' heart pounded. His foot hovered over the brake pedal, but he knew it was too late for a clean retreat. The space was too tight, he could see it!


    SCREEEEEEECH!


    A sickening screech of carbon fiber against carbon fiber filled the air as Miles'' front-right scraped against Haas'' left sidepod. Sparks exploded from the impact, tiny embers trailing behind them.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    BANG!


    The jolt sent Haas veering right, his rear tire clipping the edge of Miles'' front wing.


    "...CONTATTO ALLA CURVA 4!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Haas felt the impact through the chassis, his steering wheel jolting in his grip. His right-rear tire wobbled for a split second and then completely gave out!


    Bueseno Velocit¨¤ crowd roared in excitement! Trampos'' garage went silent.


    This was a DNF no doubt. Haas'' car was already skidding away onto the advertisement pavement beyond Turn 4.

 Chapter 225 Italian Mega Prix. 7

    Haas'' DNF came as a shock to Trampos and even opposition fans. The underdog driver of Trampos had finally gotten some publicity, but not the good kind.


    "...BANDIERA GIALLA, BANDIERA GIALLA! SAFETY CAR IN PISTA...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Watch your delta to Bellingham and De Klerk**


    It all went fast for Luca. Before he knew it, the screens displayed Haas walking defeatedly to their garage. And after that, Mr. Moritz radioed that they''d received him safely.


    "...SAFETY CAR RIENTRA IN PIT LANE! RIPRESA DELLA GARA...!"


    "...Oliver Kristensen in P1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Erik Haas is out of the race! A disastrous turn of events for Trampos Racing. He got squeezed out before the straight, and that contact with Bellingham ended his race right there...!"


    "...You have to feel for him. He was simply following the team''s strategy, but the narrowing track left him nowhere to go. A tough break for Trampos, and now it''s all on Luca Rennick to recover from this mess!"


    The turn of events had brought Trampos to a square-one battle with Velocit¨¤ Jnr. After having the upper hand with the help of Dani Walding''s early DNF, the competition had leveled again now that Haas was escorted off the track.


    ~"We aren''t champions yet. What if I hit the barricades, huh? And you fail to make top three?"~


    "Ohhh... Goddamnit," Luca growled. Right now, he was nowhere near that P3, and he wondered why.


    Max was definitely around the podium spots, most likely P3 itself or P4 by chance. Luca wouldn''t fancy the leaderboard if it ended this way. He would need to leave this midfield as soon as possible and make an effort for P1 contention.


    The yellow flags, which had fluttered consistently since the Turn 4 incident, were now being withdrawn one by one, each marshal lowering their flag in sync with the official confirmation from Race Control.


    The pack that had been slowed to a processional pace erupted back into full-blown racing, resuming an Italian Mega Prix that had already delivered a staggering amount of drama, and they were only less than 20 laps in.


    [19th Lap]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 7th Position]


    [You are 3.5 seconds away, host.]


    [500m Straightaway ahead]


    [Analyzing 9th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [9th Position is 1.5 sec away, host.]


    After the incident, Miles was still stuck to Luca''s gearbox, unable to find a way to weave through over the turns and over the laps so far. Every attempt he made was shut down by Luca, who was using his racing line to its fullest advantage, placing his car exactly where it needed to be.


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    After successfully corner chopping Miles at one of the latest chicanes that led to the last straight and the start of the 19th lap, this tallied Luca''s Sync Buff value to:


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    Earlier, when Miles had plotted to deploy DRS on a straight, Luca had chopped him off there as well before his wings could flap open. Luca got a level-up to Straightaway Chopping, which surprised him because he only remembered executing it once.


    [Straightaway Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    During this time, all Luca could do was quickly review this final race of the season, weighing the chances of victory between Trampos and Velocit¨¤ Jnr.


    This brought his mind back to the standings and the exact points held by Velocit¨¤ and Squadra:


    Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr ¡ª 238


    Squadra Corse Jnr ¡ª 236


    A mere two-point difference separated both teams beneath Trampos, and these were the only rival teams still mathematically in contention for the championship.


    A two-point gap was practically nothing. A single race could flip it as if it had never existed.


    And Luca had been so fixated on Velocit¨¤ Jnr and Max that he had barely noticed how the Italian Mega Prix was quietly tilting in Squadra Corse Jnr''s and Miles'' favor.


    Dani Walding and Erik Haas were the only drivers to have crashed so far in the race, and both of them were from Trampos and Velocit¨¤!


    This meant that while Trampos and Velocit¨¤ each had only one driver left fighting¡ªLuca and Max, respectively¡ªSquadra still had both of their elite drivers on track: Albert Derstappen and, of course, the very same Miles Bellingham responsible for Haas'' crash.


    Luca was reluctant to admit it, but if, by some unfortunate twist, he and Max failed to finish¡ªperhaps even taking each other out¡ªSquadra Corse Jnr and Miles Bellingham would be crowned champions here in Serpeggiare this evening.


    Luca hmmed, shutting his eyes for a brief moment.


    Was this Squadra''s plan all along? And that dumb Aaronson had actually helped them accomplish a quarter of it.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 250 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 115 bpm


    -Operational Status: 75% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 70500m


    -Time: 30 min.]


    [20th Lap]


    "...Ventesimo giro in questo Mega Gran Premio d''Italia...!"


    "... WOOOOHH!"


    Behind, a few drivers were starting to make their second pits, while those ahead, who''d saved and pushed their cars, were making their first. The pit garages quickly filled with activity, crews springing into motion as cars dove in, engines growling before cutting off in precise halts.


    The likes of Max Addams, now in P3, and Albert Derstappen, now in P2, were rolling in just as Oliver Kristensen rolled out to continue the race.


    Benjamin Taubert made it through to retake the P2 he had once lost drastically to the A-list drivers. Having pitted much earlier, just like Luca and Miles had, he was free to join Kristensen in tackling the turns again.


    Chances were, he could capitalize on his momentum, exploit Kristensen''s earlier retardation, and top the leaderboard for the first time this season.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 7th Position]


    [You are 3.1 seconds away, host.]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    [DRS Engaged]


    Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    Miles blinked, his focus tightening as Luca''s car¡ªpreviously just within reach¡ªsuddenly surged forward. The red and black Dallara rocketed ahead, its rear wing snapping open under DRS, gaining on De Klerk with unnerving speed.


    [Slipstream Mastery +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]


    De Klerk, up ahead, had no time to react. Luca''s car slotted into his slipstream, the gap between them evaporating in mere seconds.


    [DRS Disengaged]


    [Track Span Analysis: 2.5 meters wide (inside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 1.8 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.3 meters (0.15 meters on each side)]


    "...Rennick moves to the inside! He''s going for it into Turn 5! De Klerk tries to hold the outside line, but Luca Rennick''s already ahead! He slots in, late on the brakes¡ªAND HE TAKES P7! Brilliant move from Luca! That was pure commitment...!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P7, Peter De Klerk in P8!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [7th Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [Agility +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 82.5%]


    Luca felt as if this race was a joggler, randomly and confusingly switching their positions. Now, he was below Legrasse on the leaderboard, the same Legrasse he remembered leading some laps ago.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 6th Position] S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Luca made sure he had fully claimed P7, his car completely ahead of De Klerk''s with no possibility of an immediate duel.


    And with De Klerk acting as a buffer between Miles and him, Luca could now shift his concentration elsewhere and drive confidently in this Mega Prix, just as he did in every other race.


    The sun was nowhere to be found in the deep, dull blue evening sky stretching over the circuit. It was 5 p.m. now, and a strong, restless breeze swept through the grandstands, rippling flags and team banners, sending waves of movement through the treetops beyond the barriers.


    The atmosphere had this memorable, nostalgic feeling, especially for children who were watching.


    The brake lights of all cars shone clearly through the twilight, and the distant commentary and announcements echoed with more resonance.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 6th Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    A deep growl of thunder rumbled across the sky stretching over the little city called a park. The flash of lightning and the crack that followed unsettled the drivers, team principals, and everyone else in the circuit.


    But it didn''t bother them as much as those beyond the circuit, watching from their seats on the park ground. Rain now would totally ruin their spectating.

 Chapter 226 Italian Mega Prix. 8

    "WOOOOHH!"


    "... ALBERT DERSTAPPEN LEADS THE ITALIAN MEGA PRIX!"


    "... WOOOOHH!"


    "...Albert Derstappen supera Oliver Kristensen! Albert Derstappen in P1, Oliver Kristensen in P2!"


    [30th Lap]


    After nearly fifty minutes of racing, Oliver Kristensen could no longer hold onto the lead any longer. He had fought hard, managing his tires and pace as best as he could, but with Albert Derstappen and Max looming behind, the pressure was relentless.


    Every lap, every sector, they had been chipping away at his advantage, they had been closing in with calculated aggression.


    Now, Aaronson had managed to slip through, thrusting Kristensen behind to a vulnerable position, one where Max could capitalize on his momentum loss.


    Mr. Moritz informed Luca that a rival had claimed P1 over Kristensen, but he didn''t say who.


    It was left to Luca to figure that out on his own, and in the end, the answer was an easy guess.


    Luca knew Max Addams was a good driver¡ªactually, the best in Formula 2 excluding himself. But Max wasn''t that good, not to the extent of progressively overtaking both Derstappen and Kristensen in tandem.


    That kind of feat was meant for Luca alone!


    And then, at the sweeping curve of Turn 16, Luca''s eyes flicked toward the far side of the circuit. Beyond the advertisement pavement and the strip of grass, he caught a quick glimpse of the car now leading the race.


    It was a black and gold Dallara with #66 on its rear wing.


    Definitely Derstappen.


    Luca''s growing fear about Squadra Corse Jnr having a real shot at the trophy was gradually becoming reality.


    Even though Miles was at P9 now, anything could happen in the next 45 laps. It was enough time for the trophy to tilt in their favor.


    Aaronson was behind Max now, and if he just pushed in a way that forced Max into anger or reckless retaliation, then those two would take themselves out.


    "SQUADRA CORSE IS PLAYING THE LONG GAME!" Luca huffed, determined not to let that happen.


    All he needed now was a notification confirming his effort against James Legrasse, and he''d be on his way to the front, flipping this race upside down.


    Legrasse was already feeling the weight of Luca''s Side-by-Side King, struggling against the oppressive aura it created.


    And that was with the skill still at 7 points.


    Luca had a theory about how Side-by-Side King actually worked. Maybe the smaller the value, the longer it suppressed the victim by pressing down on them, forcing them to back off gradually or eventually falter into a mistake.


    But the higher the value, the faster it worked, making opponents yield and falter instantly, as if Luca had simply found the perfect moment to overtake.


    He recalled the French Grand Prix, when Max had managed to hold out for two whole seconds against Side-by-Side King at 50 due to Sync Buff.


    [6th Position]


    [Side-by-Side King +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    "Great!"


    [Determining Sync Buff duration....]


    A sleek digital holographic countdown wheel appeared on the interface, spinning rapidly like a roulette. Many numbers began to flash in quick succession¡ª1:00, 2:15, 4:32, 3:09¡ªflickering too fast for even Luca''s eyes to follow.


    Then, a progress bar beneath it began filling up in bright neon green:


    [Processing: ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ3:15¨ˆ??1:30??? 50%]


    The numbers continued shifting, the system cycling through endless possibilities. Luca would admit it was quite scary.


    [Processing: ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ?? 80%]


    The countdown wheel slowed. The cube''s rotation stuttered. And a single number locked in, blinking three times before solidifying.


    [Finalizing Sync Buff Time...]


    [...Sync Buff duration determined!]


    [Sync Buff Duration: 3 Minutes, 42 Seconds]


    Luca took a moment to stare at the screen, taking his time to understand what the system had done.


    So, this was how the Randomized Duration Window takeaway feature worked? It didn''t just select a time instantly like he had expected. Instead, it cycled, calculated, and finalized like an actual in-game mechanic. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It feels more like calculation than random, system," Luca said, eyeing the bold numbers¡ª 3:42. "You let me watch fate decide. That''s too much anticipation."


    [System is glad to receive a positive feedback on Randomized Duration Window!]


    "Three minutes, forty-two seconds¡­ hmm."


    Luca exhaled, taking in the number.


    One thing he appreciated about the system was its pre-activation reveal of the Sync Buff duration. Knowing the time before activation gave him control because it''d let him plan rather than gamble. If the duration was only shown after activation, he''d be forced to adapt on the fly instead of strategizing ahead.


    "A minute and eighteen seconds short of the usual five minutes¡­ not too bad... I guess," he muttered.


    With the field still packed tightly together, no clear gaps had formed. That meant three minutes and forty-two seconds could be just what he needed to climb from P6 to the top three.


    [7th Position closing in]


    [Analyzing 7th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [7th Position is 1.5 sec away, host.]


    Legrasse still had hopes to retake P6, but Luca had other contrasting plans.


    A smile creeped on Luca''s face once he made it out of Turn 12, getting a clear view of the driver''s ahead, and the driver before him.


    Aaronson''s orange and black Dallara looked tantalizing like a baked meal fresh out of the oven.


    And now, Luca had the appetite to devour it.


    He had Sync Buff. He would have the pace. And more importantly, he had the grudge.


    It was time for Luca to return the torment Aaronson did to him earlier this race. If possible, Luca wished he could use this chance to complete his Daily Quest by forcing Aaronson to a crash.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    "Yes."


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 28 ???? 50


    Stamina: 31 ???? 50


    Endurance: 29 ???? 50


    Experience new tales on My Virtual Library Empire


    Agility: 28 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 28 ???? 50 ]


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping/Spatial Awareness/ Night Mastery/ Grid Launch/ Slipstream Mastery/ Side-by-Side King/ Slipsense & Rainborne]


    Since Luca''s aim was to make it to the lead of the pack, he''d have to select skills that would make that easier to execute. This meant taking in consideration skills that would scratch out the problems of the track and also create openings and advantages.


    Luca looked at the sky ahead. He frowned. This was the first time he was hearing thunder. He wondered if he''d have to consider Slipsense & Rainborne to the list. But since no drop of rain had fallen since, he''d focus on others.


    Luca ended up selecting Spatial Awareness for his own safety. With so many cars still tightly bunched together, he needed the widest possible mental map of every moving part around him. Every gap, every potential collision in this crucial race, he had to see them before they even happened.


    Side-by-Side King followed, being his weapon in direct combat. The oppressive pressure it exerted would make his rivals uneasy, forcing them to back off or make errors. If he was going to carve his way forward, he had to ensure his opponents yielded before they fought too hard.


    Then Luca completed the three-skill set with Slipstream Mastery.


    It would be his ticket to overtakes on the straight where the speed of his SomberCore was just the same as the rival ahead. Slipstream Mastery would be the difference, giving him extra speed and slinging him forward without losing energy.


    Luca gave one last glance at the stormy sky. The thunder was unsettling, but still there was no rain.


    [Successfully Selected!]


    [Spatial Awareness: 7 ???? 50


    Side-by-Side King: 7 ???? 50


    Slipstream Mastery: 8 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 3 min. 41 sec left for Sync Buff]


    "It''s for real," Luca said, taking a brief glance to any suite glass room he could see. "Time this motherfuckers."


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Unbeknownst to Luca, his eyes had a twinkling spark of red streaking all the way out of his helmet.


    He could see Aaronson driving confidently as they made it into the last rangy turn before the home straight to begin the next lap.


    Aaronson genuinely had no idea what was coming for him.

 Chapter 227 Italian Mega Prix. 9

    From the start of the race, Mr. Marchetti had been rather... bored, uninterested, and absent-minded, focused only on the outcome and the final results. His eyes were on the track, but he paid little attention to every movement made by the drivers, unlike every other spectator who studied even the slightest twitch of the tires.


    That changed the moment Luca activated Sync Buff.


    The shift was instant and undeniable. Luca''s presence on the track sharpened, his movements became more fluid, his car cutting through the air with newfound intensity.


    Mr. Marchetti sat up, intrigued. His boredom vanished as curiosity took hold.


    "Set up a timer," he ordered his assistant beside him. He wanted to get to the bottom of this sudden burst of performance by Luca, especially since the doping tests had come out negative.


    Reaching for one of the exclusive suite tablets, Mr. Marchetti accessed the real-time telemetry feed. These tablets were streamlined, real-time versions provided by race control for VIPs.


    They were not as detailed or sophisticated as the full FIA telemetry honed by teams in their respective garages. Instead, they only displayed simple and essential data, even for the dumb likes of Dan to understand.


    Essential data like: Current speed, Sector times, Throttle and brake inputs, and Energy deployment.


    Compared to the vast chunks of data in full telemetry¡ªsuch as tire temperature readings, g-force readings, ERS and DRS deployment, fuel consumption rates, etc.¡ªthis didn''t seem like much.


    But it was more than enough to tell the difference in Luca''s driving after activating Sync Buff.


    For example, in the 13th lap, Luca had struggled to dogfight with Aaronson through the turns, barely able to find an opening. But now, their duel didn''t even last two seconds. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The moment Luca surged onto the home straight, the Sync Buff-infused Slipstream Mastery latched onto Aaronson''s car like a grappling hook, reeling Luca forward with a massive burst of speed. His Dallara rocketed down the straight, the engine screaming as he closed the gap in mere moments.


    By the time they approached Turn 1, Luca was already alongside. Aaronson instinctively squeezed left, trying to deny him the inside, but Luca was having none of it. He braked later, harder, and with pinpoint accuracy, forcing his car into the tightest part of the corner while still carrying insane momentum.


    Aaronson, caught off guard, hesitated for just a fraction of a second. But that was all Luca needed.


    Through Turn 2, his front wing was fully ahead, and as they entered Turn 3, his rear tires sealed the overtake. Aaronson was now behind.


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [31st Lap]


    [Track Span Analysis: 7.5 meters wide (limited maneuverability due to barriers)]


    [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 5.2 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters]


    [Margin for Error: 2.3 meters]


    **Yes! Great driving, Luca!**


    [5th Position]


    [You have 2 min. 50 sec left for Sync Buff]


    "...Luca Rennick sorpassa Sean Aaronson...!"


    "...Rennick in P5, Aaronson in P6!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Mr. Marchetti could see Luca wasn''t done yet. The boy was on a mission to leave the midfield and top the leaderboard in mere minutes.


    [32nd Lap]


    Derstappen was in P4, now acutely aware of Luca''s approach after he overtook Aaronson in the last lap. Aaronson was still sulking and bitter, powerless as he watched Luca create gap after gap, moving toward his next prey.


    [Analyzing 6th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [6th Position is 1.5 sec away, host.]


    [Reanalyzing...]


    [6th Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [Reanalyzing...]


    [6th Position is 2.5 sec away, host.]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    Luca''s Dallara tore through the air, closing in on Derstappen terrifyingly. Derstappen had lost P3 to Max just as he was making an effort to reclaim lost position during their pit stop.


    The Dutchman braced himself as Luca approached, setting up his own chassis to match the aggression and calculation. He reacted by subtly shifting his racing line to defend, planning to make things difficult for Luca.


    But from Mr. Marchetti''s perspective, Luca had no intention of wasting time. He had Sync Buff active, and he was going to use every last second of it.


    Approaching the braking zone for Turn 5 after making it through Curva Grande, Luca made his move.


    With Side-by-Side King still active, he forced his car into the narrowest of gaps, squeezing himself alongside Derstappen at the last second.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    As Mr. Marchetti suspected¡ªjust like every other time Luca suddenly became perfect on track¡ªhe hardly ever applied the brakes when driving.


    "...into Turn 6! Rennick holds his ground, squeezing in to snatch the position from Derstappen!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Going from worrying about the turns to becoming unbothered by them was surprising.


    The tablet in Mr. Marchetti''s hands finally showed a signal of braking, but it was merely a trail brake from Luca. He did it to keep his car stable due to the aggressive entry he had dove into the duel with. The grip held, his tires biting into the asphalt, and as he rotated through the corner, his front wing pulled ahead.


    Mr. Marchetti realized it wasn''t just a simple brake for stabilization but an overtake maneuver!


    Derstappen tried to counter at the exit of Turn 6, but Luca was already clear.


    "...Luca Rennick sorpassa Albert Derstappen!"


    "....Rennick in P4, Derstappen in P5!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [4th Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Power-up failed!]


    [Sync Bar is currently being used]


    "...Ma attenzione! Rennick is not lifting! Could he go for Max in a row?!"


    [You have 1 min. 15 sec left for Sync Buff]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    "...If Luca Rennick times this right, he could jump from P5 to P3 in the span of just two corners...!"


    Mr. Marchetti focused more intently than he had at any point since the race began.


    If Luca managed to overtake Max¡ªthus passing all three of Formula 2''s elite drivers in a single sequence¡ªthen something was undeniably up with the boy.


    His sharp eyes followed the live feed, but his hands remained on the tablet, scanning the data. Luca''s unnatural level of precision wasn''t a surprise anymore.


    After the French Grand Prix, Spanish Grand Prix, British Grand Prix, and every other race where Luca''s Sync Buff activation had left its mark, witnessing spectacular speed fluctuations, throttle modulation, and braking force had become routine for Mr. Marchetti.


    Whenever he wanted to decode what made Luca''s performance so extraordinary, this was the method he relied on.


    Back on the track, Max was no fool, he had taken notice. He saw what happened to Aaronson, then Derstappen. He knew Luca was coming.


    Yet even with that knowledge, he could do little to stop it.


    The lap was closing in, and Max Addams, the reigning F2 champion was set to lose a podium spot to his top rival this year.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Mr. Marchetti watched as Luca approached, his car still carrying the excess momentum from his overtake on Derstappen.


    Max was determined not to be a sitting duck, so he defended aggressively, shifting to the inside as they approached the final sector.


    But Luca had intelligently predicted it with Intelligence at 50.


    Instead of challenging directly, he adjusted his line ever so slightly, hanging wider through the previous corner to maximize his exit speed.


    **Commit, Luca!**


    By the time they reached the back straight, Luca was locked in.


    [Slipstream Engaged]


    [Speed Boosted]


    Luca felt the g-force hit him like a moving train, but he responded with so much strength, he endured the pain, transforming it into drive and momentum.


    [33rd Lap]


    [You have 50 sec left for Sync Buff]


    "Oh, damn. It won''t be enough for P1!"


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    At least, he could make it into P3 with what''s left, and lead his rivals in this race. So, Luca gripped his wheel tighter to make the last seconds count, and overtake Max who seemed to be proving stubborn.


    Max made that annoying defensive stance again, placing his car dead center on the track. A bold move, forcing Luca to commit either way.


    "Hmmm." Luca feinted right.


    Instantly, Max''s eyes sparkled with a glint and he quickly took the bait, thinking Luca had planned to commit there. It was just a slight lean in response, but it was enough for Luca to capitalize on.


    Luca snapped left with 50 Agility, diving down the inside in such a spectacular way as if their entire duel was rehearsed.


    Max, realizing his mistake, slammed the brakes late in desperation, but Luca had already committed.


    Their wheels came within inches, and Side-by-Side King at 50 began to work optimally.


    "...Rennick goes for it!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The apex of the final turn was approaching. Max was still there, refusing to yield, refusing to be overtaking, resisting the influence of Side-by-Side King to the extent he gritted his teeth and grew watery eyes.


    Luca had the inside line after taking the left earlier, so he dove into it without a second care of its steepness, knowing fully well that 50 Agility would help him swerve out of any trouble.


    Max was still clinging on, but he had no space left to counter, and the track structure inevitably tucked him behind Luca, successfully switching their positions, successfully changing the leaderboard in the 33rd Lap.


    "...LUCA RENNICK SORPASSA MAX ADDAMS!!!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Rennick in P3! Addams in P4!" Continue reading stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    [3rd Position]


    **Yes! Simply lovely, Luca!**


    "...THE TOP TWO IN THE DRIVER''S STANDINGS JUST TRADED PLACES! WAS THAT THE MOMENT THAT DECIDED THE CHAMPIONSHIP?!"


    "....RENNICK IN P3! MAX ADDAMS DOWN TO P4!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "....These two have been at each other''s throats all year, Steve, trading victories, battling for every point. But with this move, Luca has just taken one giant step toward the championship both for himself and for Trampos!"


    Luca slowly felt the energy of the Sync Buff gradually leave him just as he focused on Taubert''s Dallara in the distance. The chants of Trampos were familiar, and he could hear every word being echoed.


    [Sync Buff has elapsed!]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 0%]


    When Mr. Marchetti saw that Luca had mellowed down a little and wasn''t pouncing his way to Benjamin Taubert like he did to Aaronson, Derstappen, and Max, he looked down at the tablet in his hands.


    The readings and data displayed reasonable values for a driver competing in a high-stakes race and on a high-stakes circuit.


    Mr. Marchetti glanced at his assistant. "Time?"


    "Approximately three minutes, thirty seconds, sir," the assistant answered.


    Mr. Marchetti slowly relaxed in his seat, unbothered by the groans and scoffs of disdain and disapproval in his suite upon Luca''s overtake on Max.


    He sat motionless, pondering Luca and his chances of making it to F1. There was once a Rennick in Formula 1, and he had never been good fortune for Mr. Marchetti, so he expected Luca to be nothing less.

 Chapter 228 Italian Mega Prix. 10

    Mission successful with Sync Buff for Luca. He was able to go from P6 to P3 within two laps, bringing himself back in podium and victory contention.


    The jump from P6 to P3 wasn''t the biggest leap he had made with Sync Buff, but that was only because the system had randomly generated a shorter duration, cutting it by more than a minute from the usual five-minute window.


    Even so, Luca found satisfaction in what he had achieved. Overtaking his main rivals in a single file was a statement that he couldn''t ignore, no one could ignore, not even his rivals or the spectators in the grandstands. And with a rival still struggling far behind in P8, Luca had all the more reason to be pleased.


    The feeling of knowing they could see your gearbox, the very sight of your rear wing taunting them was satisfying.


    Luca believed this was it. The race had crossed its midsection and was gradually heading toward the end. If he could defend well against those behind while also pushing for openings against Taubert and Kristensen ahead...


    At the moment, Luca and Trampos had the upper hand. If the leaderboard stayed this way to the very end, his P3 points would make him the F2 Drivers'' Champion over Max''s P4 points.


    So, Luca needed to mentally divide his defense and offense into a ratio¡ªsomething like 70:30.


    [45th Lap]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 285 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 55% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 225500m


    -Time: 1 hr. 12min.]


    [Tires are in less than ideal condition, host. Fuel level at 50%. DRS is unavailable. Engine temperature slightly heated. Brake wear at 65%.]


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. Recommend maintaining current pace. However, a pit stop is strongly recommended immediately to refresh your tires and maintain performance for the race.]


    "What do you think? Could this be my last pit stop of the race?" Luca asked his system.


    Luca was aware the team had initially planned for three to four pit stops, but Luca hoped he could defy expectations and get away with just two. He didn''t want to waste time in the pit lane or the pit box.


    While his rivals would be committing to their third or fourth stops, Luca intended to stay out, building and extending gaps between them. If he could make it work, he''d increase his chances at the trophy.


    [Projecting strategy feasibility...]


    [Margin for tire degradation uncertain. External variables such as track temperature and tire wear fluctuation may necessitate one more pit stop before the end of the race.]


    "One more. Hmph." Luca glanced at his Sync Bar.


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    Sync Buff was the major reason his tires had this much wear by the 45th Lap. If not, Luca would have needed just two pit stops in this race when others would be having three or four.


    Now, back in the 39th Lap, Luca got a double notification Skill level-up for Reflexes and Track Awareness after he almost sabotaged himself on the track.


    He had unintentionally pushed a little too hard at Turn 9 when it seemed Benjamin Taubert was strangely getting away from his range. His back end snapped out, and his car spun a full 360, causing a wild drift of smoke and a screech of his tires. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca didn''t panic like the entire Trampos spectators and crew did. He had managed a 360 before in Le Castellet and in simulations, so he could do it again to save his race.


    His hands moved fast to counter-steer, and his footwork was flawless as he managed the throttle, snapping the car back into alignment with barely any loss of momentum.


    [Reflexes +1]


    [Track Awareness +1] Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire


    The two notifs came right after that, and his Sync Bar began to fill up once again.


    This made Luca wonder if he''d be able to pull off two Sync Buffs in one race. It was something he''d never done before, and it''d be a game-changer if he managed it.


    Additionally, it''d further confuse and throw off the suspicions that were still lingering because no one was used to Luca becoming astonishingly better than his usual good on two occasions in one race.


    If the first three minutes didn''t confuse them enough, this one would. So, Luca grew determined to complete this second Sync Bar, both for this very reason and also to make it to P1 and remain there!


    **Rear degradation is too high. You''ll be losing a lot of time without you even knowing**


    "Understood," Luca replied. "One last push into 46."


    **Copy. We''re all set. Keep it clean on entry. We need a perfect stop**


    "On it. You know me."


    "...the pit lane has been a hive of activity over the past few laps! We''ve seen a flurry of stops as teams scramble to get their strategies right in this quarter of the race. Fresh rubber going on, mechanics working at lightning speed, every second counts at this stage of the race!"


    [46th Lap]


    "...Sean Aaronson sorpassa Albert Derstappen!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Sean Aaronson in P5, Albert Derstappen in P6!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Stamina +1]


    Aaronson''s overtake on Derstappen wasn''t Luca''s problem. As long as he was still ahead of them, that was what mattered. And it seemed none of them planned on visiting the pits very soon. So once again, he''d be the earlier pitter amongst his rivals.


    Surprisingly, after making it down the home straight, both Taubert and Kristensen diverted into the pits. And as if it had been planned, Luca followed suit.


    Kristensen had a second''s lead over Taubert, and Taubert had a second and a half over Luca. Based on his calculations, with Pitstop Prodigy, he''d definitely leave the pits ahead of Taubert, snatching his position.


    Kristensen, though? That was uncertain. They might end up fighting for who''d exit the pit lane first to rejoin the race.


    Kristensen was already seated in his Retona box, his crew working around him at full speed. Taubert, meanwhile, had just reached his APX garage.


    Luca coasted past them toward Trampos'' pit with a determined air, the hostile tension between them almost tangible. He swore nothing would jeopardize this chance to take the lead. Pitstop Prodigy was his key to getting out first!


    "System, please tell me you''ve got something like a skill that helps battle cold tires waiting for me to unlock."


    [System has a variety of skills that support tire performance by increasing grip and reducing wear probability.]


    [However, these skills are available in the Professional and Top Driver Bundles, where the system grants physical skills that directly affect the car rather than non-physical skills, which host currently possesses.]


    "...."


    "So the Professional Bundle has skills that enhance the car, not me?"


    A brief pause as Luca rolled to a stop in his pit, hoping to break the record they had already set today.


    [System detects classified information not yet attained.]


    [Intelligence +1]


    Luca sighed, gripping the wheel tightly as the team got to work, lifting the car in a flawless motion.


    His focus locked onto his side mirror, watching for any sign of the others leaving their pits. He failed to notice Haas seated solemnly in the paddock or the other crew members cheering on.


    Whirrr! Thud! Tap!


    "You''re good, mate!" McCauley yelled. "Three seconds, baby!"


    "...LUCA RENNICK ENTERED THE PIT LATER, BUT HE''S LEAVING FIRST! TRAMPOS HAVE JUST EXECUTED ANOTHER BRILLIANT PIT STOP!"


    It didn''t break the record, but it was fast.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    Luca slammed the accelerator, his car jolting forward. It was time to take the goddamn lead in this Mega Prix.

 Chapter 229 Italian Mega Prix. 11

    Kristensen didn''t waste time hitting his throttle once his six-second pit was over. He could see Luca and his team were done, and Luca had already made it out of his pit box.


    P1 was slipping out of his grasp, and Kristensen wasn''t going to allow it. His tires spun and rotated as he leapt out, accelerating to a speed that overshot the pit lane speed limit so he could catch up.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The crowd noticed Kristensen''s surge past 60 km/h in pursuit of Luca as if they were on a normal racing lane.


    "...Did he push past the speed limit?!"


    The scowl from Trampos'' garage answered that question because, even with the naked eye, one could tell when a driver exceeded 60 km/h in the pit lane.


    Luca heard Kristensen''s tires screech when he launched out of his box. He looked at his side mirror to see him rolling past Legrasse and approaching at 67 km/h¡ªLuca was able to analyze his car since it was in the required range for system analysis.


    "What does he have in mind, risking a penalty for himself?" Luca asked aloud. He was already meters from the exit, and there was Kristensen, trying to keep up, deftly placing his speed not too far from 60 km/h as if that would soothe the stewards.


    "...Race Control is watching! Did he get away with that?"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s problem at the moment wasn''t Kristensen. He was confident that the pit exit was designed for a single car to merge at a time. No matter how much speed Kristensen had gained, there was no outmuscling the structure of the track itself.


    Luca''s concern was that Max and Aaronson were rolling down fast into Turn 1. If he and Kristensen rejoined the race in a queue, it''d be four-star F2 drivers on a single lane, even if only for a second.


    "...some of the biggest names in Formula 2 about to converge in the same piece of tarmac! Luca and Kristensen are rejoining just as Max Addams and Sean Aaronson come flying down into Turn 1...!"


    Luca''s instincts told him that Max and Aaronson would never ease off or adjust their speed to make his reentry smoother.


    According to FIA regulations, in situations like this¡ªwhere a driver is merging back onto the track¡ªany potential collision would primarily be blamed on the rejoining driver rather than those already on the racing line.


    This was because the drivers already on the racing line had the right of way, maintaining their trajectory and speed as expected.


    The merging driver, on the other hand, was responsible for ensuring a safe and controlled reentry without causing disruptions or forcing oncoming cars to react suddenly.


    Any miscalculation in timing or positioning could be deemed as unsafe rejoining, leading to penalties or even race-ending consequences.


    Discover exclusive content at My Virtual Library Empire


    First, because of this. Second, Luca knew he would be vulnerable, fresh out of the pits, facing rivals already at full race speed.


    He had no intention of becoming easy prey, so he timed his reentry precisely, slipping in just as Max and Aaronson blasted past with Aaronson glued to Max''s rear wing. S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [3rd Position]


    "...Max Addams in P1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Sean Aaronson in P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P3!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Oliver Kristensen in P4!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca and Kristensen remained unfazed. They knew Max and Aaronson would have to pit soon, and when they did, the fight for P1 and P2 would be wide open.


    But Kristensen''s confidence took a hit when his engineers relayed the dreaded news over the radio.


    **Oliver, we''ve been handed a five-second penalty for pitlane speeding**


    "...It was always going to be a risk! He pushed past 60 km/h in the pitlane, and Race Control isn''t letting it slide!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "....A five-second penalty! That''s massive at this stage of the race for Retona Racing, for Oliver Kristensen..."


    These were the kind of openings Trampos wanted. **Great!** Mr. Ruben exclaimed over the radio. **Now he will lag behind just like the others and P1 will be free to grab**


    Luca gripped his wheel tighter into Turn 1, aware of Kristensen lurking behind, most likely with a bitter heart after receiving the penalty that could jeopardize his race.


    [Estimated Time for Optimal Tire Temperature: 2.5 laps under standard racing conditions¡ª1 Lap for host.]


    [Acceleration and cornering compromised until 85% heat threshold is reached]


    [Recommendation: Gradual weight transfer through turns to generate heat efficiently]


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [4th Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Kristensen wasn''t waiting. Penalty or not, he was still in this fight, and Luca was his immediate target.


    A small kick of Spatial Awareness alerted Luca of Kristensen''s lunge for him and he responded with a defensive shift, automatically accepting the duel at the exit of Turn 1.


    Luca took the racing line into Turn 2, planting his front left onto the apex while carefully managing his cold tires unlike Kristensen, who charged into the corner aggressively.


    He braked later than Luca, forcing his car to squirm as it struggled for grip with his own cold tires.


    "...Kristensen is attacking immediately! He knows he needs to clear Luca quickly if he wants any chance at the win...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Furious, penalized, desperate. That''s what he is. Be conservative, Luca**


    Luca heard his engineers and he wished he could keep listening, because the moment he became conservative, Kristensen inched closer to his rear, breathing down his neck as they powered out of Turn 2.


    Turn 3''s sweep instantly appeared with no head''s up, forcing Luca to focus on adapting to its steepness rather than defending against Kristensen. This approach to Turn 3 saw Kristensen pull alongside Luca, momentarily nosing ahead on the slopy inside.


    In that brief moment, Luca''s cockpit tilted slightly, his view slanting downward. He looked to his right where Kristensen was there, staring back up at him from that violet helmet.


    Luca had never considered Kristensen a serious rival in the F2 Championship, but now? The Dutchman was making a damn strong proposal to be on that list.

 Chapter 230 Italian Mega Prix. 12

    "...Luca sticks to the racing line, but Kristensen isn''t playing it safe. He dives down the inside, his car slanting up the slope, momentarily nosing ahead!"


    "...Kristensen is alongside! They''re wheel to wheel through the rest of the corner!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca pressed down on the downforce, anticipating when Turn 4''s contrasting left-hander would merge in. He had Side-by-Side King on full activation, feathering its influence on Kristensen due to the instability of traction caused by the turns.


    Nonetheless, Luca had the upper hand, even by the slightest margin.


    Positioned on the outer line, the elevated lane of the slope, Luca tilted his wheel gently as Turn 4''s entrance cut in sharply on his part. But for Kristensen, he glided smoothly in from the inside line to the outside line, temporarily claiming P3 from Luca.


    [4th Position]


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...OLIVER KRISTENSEN SWINGS OUT OF TURN 3, TAKING P3!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Stay focused, chap**


    [Track Incline: +2.8¡ã slope (moderate elevation change)


    Racing Line Camber: -1.2¡ã (favors inside grip, outer line prone to understeer)]


    "Glad I''m on the inside then."


    "... Kristensen on the outside, Rennick on the inside as they charge through Turn 4 toward the straight!"


    [3rd Position]


    [Overtaking Skill +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    [Straightaway ahead]


    Luca gripped his wheel tighter, his focus sharpening as he could see Max and Aaronson already taking on the straight halfway with Aaronson slightly behind Max.


    [Side-by-Side King failed due to unstable traction and track structure]


    Luca knew the skill, Side-by-Side King had its limits, but on a definite, stable straightaway, where grip wasn''t a gamble, it was a different story.


    Kristensen was still holding his ground to the outside beside him, but Luca had already envisioned how this would play out on the straight, and he couldn''t wait to attack it.


    Luca quickly lifted his feet off the brake, switching to the throttle and pushing on ERS once the straight opened.


    Kristensen performed the same feat, his Dallara lunging forward on cue with Luca, violet and red roaring down as loud as a SomberCore could growl.


    Luca carefully executed all steps required for a smooth Side-by-Side King, pressing down on Kristensen as hard as he could as they barreled down the straight.


    The moment Luca initiated Side-by-Side King, the pressure shifted for Kristensen. His violet Dallara was still level with Luca''s red machine, but the balance of control had started to tilt.


    Kristensen clenched his jaw. He could feel the weight of Luca''s presence pressing against him, not physically, but in how every slight movement forced a response.


    He wanted to counter, to break free from the invisible tether Luca had cast, but the straight had now become a narrow, suffocating corridor.


    His wheel twitched slightly as he fought the urge to veer too far or concede too much. The speed was immense, ERS deployment at full stretch, but Luca had the advantage of execution.


    "...and it seems Luca Rennick is dominating this duel, setting the pace himself! Kristensen is still hanging in there, but he''s being squeezed inch by inch as they charge toward Turn 5, toward the next chicane!"


    [Track Span Analysis: 7.8 meters wide (inside lane partially available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 3.2 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.8 meters (0.3 meters on the left, 0.5 meters on the right)]


    Luca subtly dropped his speed by reducing ERS, taking the curve first while Kristensen was disoriented by Side-by-Side King on the straight.


    Both cars were overheating after roaring down a straight at high speed with high ERS usage. So, cautious, smart, and calm, Luca relied on a stable speed and self-steering to make it past Turn 5 and the chicanes.


    Kristensen, however, was determined not to fully lose the duel he was already losing. He maintained high ERS usage and a speed that was never recommended for a turn.


    "...Kristensen refuses to back down! He''s throwing everything at this duel, even when the odds are shifting against him..!"


    "...You can see the tire heat rising, the rear grip starting to waver¡ªKristensen is on the absolute edge! If he pulls this off, it''s a masterclass in raw determination, but if he overcommits... he could be in serious trouble!"


    As soon as Steve''s words were broadcasted to the spectators, Kristensen overcommitted at the entrance of Turn 6, the chicane.


    He tried squeezing in with Luca even when chicanes were known for their slim and tight apexes. Luca had totally covered the racing line, only giving space for a nose in and nothing more.


    The last effort of Side-by-Side King was applied, and Oliver Kristensen was at a loss when he oversteered off track, drifting and driving onto the advertisement pavements!


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...OH, KRISTENSEN OVERCOOKS IT! HE''S OFF THE TRACK...!"


    "WOOOOHH!" the crowd stood in awe as Kristensen''s Dallara skidded out like waste from Luca''s rear and onto the blue floor designed with FIA sponsors.


    "No! No, no!" Kristensen panicked as his tires instantly lost grip, and he skated sideways. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The rumble strips did little to help as his wheels rattled on them for a second before fully veering off. His stomach lurched as he careened into the center of the pavement, watching Luca drive off into Turn 7 unharmed.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...WHAT A MOMENT IN THIS DUEL! The crowd is on their feet¡ªLuca Rennick holds firm, while Kristensen pays the price for that all-or-nothing gamble!"


    Luca kept his focus forward, but his eyes flicked to the side mirror instinctively. He heard Kristensen''s tires rumbling, felt the loss of heat from his car as well, and then the roar of the crowd.


    The Retona Violet livery looked out of place against the brightly colored sponsor boards, its trajectory anything but controlled.


    Luca could see the fight in Kristensen''s hands, fighting and wrestling the wheel, trying to regain control before the car completely lost balance.


    From Luca''s assessment, it seemed Kristensen could regain control, but not before a few drivers overtook him. Just look at Derstappen, already in P4 now.


    "...Albert Derstappen in P4!"


    "...Albert Derstappen prende la quarta posizione mentre Kristensen ¨¨ un''anatra seduta!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "....Kristensen is in trouble! He''s still trying to recover, but the damage has already been done! Derstappen has swooped in and snatched P4, and he''s not the only one on the hunt!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...That overcommitment at the chicane has cost Oliver Kristensen dearly! He''s scrambling to regain control, but the pack is closing in fast! He''s now a sitting duck out there!"


    [Side-by-Side King +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [4th Position is 2.5 sec away, host.]


    That was Derstappen now.


    Luca took notice and continued to surge forward, leaving the fate of Kristensen into Kristensen''s own hands. He wondered if he''d be able to accomplish the day''s Daily Quest if Kristensen ended up not finishing because of what happened.


    Luca shook the thought for now. But even as he pushed ahead, his mirror still showed Kristensen struggling, fighting to bring himself back into the race.


    A deep breath. A reset.


    No time to look back. Derstappen''s a tiger!


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Luca?**


    Luca was surprised to hear Mr. Ruben''s voice crackle through the radio. "Huh? Sup?"


    There was a brief pause, one that felt longer than it should have. Then¡ª


    **5-second time penalty for forcing another driver off the track**


    Luca''s eyes widened. "What¡ª?!"


    "...Luca Rennick has been given a FIVE-SECOND PENALTY...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "ARE YOU... KIDDING ME?! OLIVER?!"


    **Yes**


    Luca''s grip tightened on the wheel, his pulse spiking. "How the hell did I force him off?! He overcommitted!"


    Mr. Ruben responded slowly. Even the penalty came as a surprise to him, so he tried to keep Luca calm under the conditions he was in now.


    **Race Control determined that you squeezed Kristensen into an unrecoverable position before the chicane. The racing line was yours, but you didn''t leave him a fair escape route. They see it as forcing him off**


    What in the world.


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    Luca let out a sharp breath. "Hmm! What did they expect me to do? Teleport out of his way...?"


    **If we could teleport, we''d be at P1, ha! Keep your head down, chap. We''ll manage this**


    "...Race Control has ruled that Luca applied excessive pressure, leaving Kristensen with no alternative but to go off-track!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca shook his head and sighed as the circuit erupted into chaos, the roar so loud it sounded like a colosseum.


    "Damnit. What has Side-by-Side King done to me now?" Luca asked himself. "I hope this doesn''t mean skills have demerits¡ªplease, not!"


    A five-second penalty¡ªor even a penalty in general¡ªwas not what Luca was hoping for in this Mega Prix. He needed every millisecond, and here he was, being deprived of five thousand of them.


    That meant he''d have to take it in the next pit stop, and that pit stop had to be as fast as a flash to reduce the impact of the penalty on his race.


    Luca suddenly regretted giving Oliver Kristensen his all in their duel. Now, both of them had five-second penalties, with no one having the upper hand.


    And just look at that¡ªKristensen was making it back on track, his tires gripping the asphalt as he rejoined the race from the brake marker of Turn 7 with fierce determination. He had lost time, but not the fight.


    But not before Miles took P5.


    "...Miles Bellingham in P5!"


    "WOOOOHH!"

 Chapter 231 Italian Mega Prix. 13

    The tension rose in the air like never before. It was palpable, suffocating, yet very silent, with urgency evident in the movements of both drivers and their team crews.


    It all started in the late 40s laps when Miles joined the leading pack by slotting into P5 after Oliver Kristensen had temporarily skidded off the track due to Luca''s Side-by-Side King.


    Miles'' slow but astonishing climb from P8 to P5 was still being talked about, with everyone terming it a wolf-in-sheep''s-clothing climb. And his presence in the honorable top five had upped the competition at the very top.


    Now, Luca, alongside Max, Aaronson, and Derstappen, all occupied P5¡ªone of the fiercest lineups so far this season.


    [1st Position]


    [55th Lap]


    Fortunately, Luca was currently in P1. It felt strange knowing this was the first time he was leading the pack in the Italian Mega Prix.


    He had inherited P1 when Max and Aaronson finally took their second pit stops. Max was the first to box on Lap 50, surrendering the lead to Aaronson. However, his stop was executed flawlessly, allowing him to rejoin in P3, just ahead of Derstappen.


    Aaronson then pitted on Lap 51, which officially handed Luca the race lead. But his stop wasn''t as quick as Max''s¡ªhe rejoined behind Derstappen, falling to P4.


    One lap later, Derstappen boxed as well, momentarily dropping him behind both Luca and Aaronson, restoring their positions from earlier.


    Luca was still in P1, but being at the front wasn''t a moment to relax, it meant every driver behind him had their sights set on hunting him down.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 295 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 60% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 357500m


    -Time: 1 hr. 33min.]


    [56th Lap]


    "...Questo ¨¨ il cinquantesimo sesto giro del Gran Premio Mega d''Italia!"


    "...Al momento, Luca Rennick in P1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Max Addams in P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "....Sean Aaronson in P3!"


    "...E attenzione! Albert Derstappen sta spingendo forte in P4, riducendo il distacco!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...into the last quarter of the race we go! The atmosphere is electric here in Monza, and the tension is thick enough to be cut with a kitchen knife! Luca Rennick keeps the battle alive with the lead! All engines roaring through the evening as the formula 2 championship trophy is up for grabs!"


    The silence in Trampos'' garage was gradually replaced by shuffling and movement as the pit crew began making preparations for what was going to be the last pit stop of the race and the season.


    The telemetry feeds showed Luca still holding P1, but everyone knew what was coming very soon. This would be the last time this year that Luca would run down the pit lane toward their garage. It could even be the last time he would ever do it as a Trampos driver.


    With this, the stop had to be perfect. Even though a 5-second penalty would keep him in the box longer, the stop still had to be perfect.


    [57th Lap]


    "...Questo ¨¨ il cinquantesimo settimo giro del Gran Premio Mega d''Italia!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The viewing post had long since been emptied by Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton once Lap 50 began, the melancholic evening sky casting long shadows over Monza. Their focus had shifted entirely to the telemetry room, where they could monitor Luca''s every move with pinpoint accuracy.


    Headsets crackled as real-time data streamed in from Luca''s car, relayed straight from the pit wall. His tires were nearing the end of their lifespan, their grip diminishing with every corner. Fuel calculations had already been finalized. Every variable, every risk, every fraction of a second was now being scrutinized.


    McCauley took note of these requirements and returned to the garage, giving orders under the fluorescent light that seemed brighter than ever.


    "Final stop prep. Move it!"


    The pit crew quickly put on their fire-resistant gloves and helmets, rolling out fresh compounds and bringing out their hydraulic lifts.


    The wing adjustment crew wasn''t needed since Luca had no issues with his wings. But even so, they still needed to be out there¡ªfourteen of them¡ªwhen Luca came barreling down the pit lane.


    [58th Lap]


    "...Cinquantottesimo giro di questa gara!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The race raged on in front of Mr. Ruben, Mr. Colt, and Mr. Moritz, who studied Luca''s telemetry intently. Ms. Vallotton and Mr. Grant were more focused on the live feed. But they weren''t just watching.


    They were waiting for Luca''s pit call.


    The wind outside affected the clear transmission of the radio; nonetheless, they could still hear Luca as his words cut through the silence in the stuffy telemetry room.


    **Yea¡ª yeah¡ªLap sixty?¡ªtires are dropping¡ªhow much fuel for the final stint?!**


    Everyone in the telemetry room snapped to attention. Mr. Ruben took charge and grabbed the radio.


    "Capito, Luca! One more lap, then box! I repeat, one more lap!" Mr. Ruben responded.


    Luca didn''t respond right away, but the onboard camera showed his grip tightening on the wheel. Then, through the static, his voice cut back in.


    "Understood. Lap sixty-one."


    Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton believed this might be the last time Luca would communicate with the pit wall, or that any important information might flow through here. So, they dropped their headsets, encouraged the engineering team to keep it up, and made their way outside the garage where the pit crew was getting ready.


    The air inside the garage was thick with tension, but outside, the wind carried the distant roar of engines and the electrifying energy of the race as if the tension was far from them now.


    The pit lane was packed, and the two Team Principals watched their crew brace for Luca''s arrival.


    Still on the same pit lane, Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton could see Squadra Jnr setting up for a pit stop as well. They wondered if it was Derstappen or Miles who''d be visiting the pits¡ªor if it was going to be both.


    Mr. Grant remembered that Derstappen had boxed not too long ago, and Miles was the most likely to make a pit stop since he''d been pitting in sync with Luca since the start of the race.


    "Understood. Lap sixty-one," Luca responded to his engineers.


    He had taken a while to reply because two rivals were battling just a second behind him, breathing down his neck at every turn. He needed to focus on every calculation his system provided.


    [Tires are in less than ideal condition, host. Fuel level at 50%. DRS is unavailable. Engine temperature slightly heated. Brake wear at 65%.]


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. Recommend maintaining current pace. However, a pit stop is strongly recommended immediately to refresh your tires and maintain performance for the race.]


    This would be Luca''s final pit stop of the race, and he''d serve his unprecedented 5-second penalty while sitting in the box. So, to counter those five valuable seconds, Luca pushed hard, stretching the gap as much as he could from Max and Aaronson, defending like a pro.


    All he could say was that he was grateful they were both behind him. It meant Max couldn''t go 100% on the attack because he also had to focus on defending against Aaronson.


    And anytime Max found an opening to exploit, Luca instantly shut it down¡ªso many times that he acquired two level-up points in Corner Chopping, adding an extra bar to his Sync Bar.


    [Corner Chopping + 1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]


    Corner Chopping was now at [14], and Luca was gradually becoming an elite at it.


    Apart from that, he couldn''t believe he actually needed just one more bar to complete a second Sync Bar in this race! One Sync Buff was always a game changer¡ªso two Sync Buffs would be what, then?


    "Pitstop Prodigy will definitely add an extra point," Luca thought as he glided out of Turn 21, facing the home straight like it was a destination of its own.


    [You are gathering speed]


    [Warning: Slipstream Threat Detected]


    [Analyzing car behind...] Explore more adventures at My Virtual Library Empire


    [Blue Dallara (F2 04)]


    [Distance: 1s ¡ú 0.8s ¡ú 0.6s]


    [Speed Increase: +8 km/h due to slipstream] S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Max wasted no time engaging DRS.

 Chapter 232 Italian Mega Prix. 14

    Max knew very well that Luca''s reaction time and speed were exceptionally high, so he executed his move as fast as he could.


    By capitalizing on Luca''s slipstream without him noticing, he gained an extra burst away from Aaronson. And in that split second, Max expertly deployed DRS, breaking through the one-second delta between him and Luca.


    "...Max Addams pulls alongside Luca Rennick before Turn 1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    As soon as Max drew alongside Luca, Luca''s system flagged Aaronson, who was now directly behind.


    [Analyzing 3rd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [3rd Position is 1.5 sec away, host.]


    **Addams will have the inside into Turn 1, cover your ground on exit. Don''t leave the door open¡ªcan''t lose two positions**


    What Mr. Colt was practically telling Luca was to let go of P1 to Max and focus on preventing Aaronson from capitalizing on his lost momentum. If he stubbornly fought Max and lost, he could end up dropping two positions instead of one.


    Luca understood the importance of protecting against a double overtake, but he still didn''t see why giving up P1 to Max was a good idea. He could still fight¡ªit wasn''t over yet.


    Colt, however, quickly clarified that Max and Aaronson weren''t just battling Luca for rival-sake, but they were also racing against the pit clock. Since they were a pitstop behind, they were pushing hard to close the gap and match Luca''s pace. Colt even suspected they''d be diving into the pitlane any moment now.


    Luca wished Colt had soundly explained this sooner, maybe he wouldn''t have attempted blocking an overtake that Max was already winning.


    As they barreled into Turn 1, Max had the inside line and fully committed to the move. Luca, still holding his ground on the outside, braked late to stay in the fight.


    But then¡ªLuca felt contact he thought he''d completely evaded!


    "WOOOOHH!"


    When Max slipped through in his blue Dallara, contrasting against Luca''s red, his rear-left tire scraped against Luca''s front-right wing.


    "...Ohhh! There''s contact! Max Addams takes the lead, but he clips Luca Rennick''s front wing on the way through!"


    "WOOOOOOHH!"


    "Tch¡ªdamn it!" Luca cussed as the jolt shook his hands on the steering wheel, sending a shiver of imbalance through his cockpit and the car itself.


    **Front wing damage, Luca. Front wing damage. We see it**


    Luca''s hands instinctively adjusted to the impact, countering the subtle shift in steering. It wasn''t catastrophic, but he could feel that his front-right downforce had taken a hit. His grip on right-handers wouldn''t be the same.


    "How bad is it?!" Luca asked, watching Max pull ahead into Turn 2.


    [2nd Position]


    **Minimal scrape on the right. The car will feel light on right-handers**


    "...That could be damage! That could be damage to Rennick''s car!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Max Addams sorpassa Luca Rennick per conquistare la P1 in questo Gran Premio Mega d''Italia!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "....Max Addams in P1, Luca Rennick in P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca didn''t bother hoping for Max to get a penalty because that definitely wasn''t coming. He had already begun to feel the lightness in his front wing, and now he noticed sparks flickering out of the carbon fiber.


    But Luca had no time to process it.


    Because as soon as the contact happened, his mirrors were full of Aaronson.


    [Analyzing 3rd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [3rd Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    Luca instantly realized his vulnerability.


    [Downforce Compromise Detected: Front wing damage affecting high-speed stability and cornering grip.]


    [Aerodynamic Balance Shifted¡ªIncreased understeer expected in fast corners.]


    [Recommendation: Adjust steering inputs to compensate; reduce entry speed and rely on mechanical grip through mid-corner phase.]


    [Warning: Braking distances may increase¡ªadapt accordingly.]


    The damaged front right wing meant reduced downforce and compromised cornering stability which were exactly what he didn''t need with a rival like Aaronson breathing down his neck.


    His car felt different already, the usual precision in the steering was now dulled by the imbalance.


    Luca tightened his grip on the wheel. If Aaronson capitalized on this now, it would be an easy overtake.


    Aaronson, on the other hand, was thrilled. Another chance to force Luca into a DNF had presented itself. If he could strike fast and keep up with Max, who was already at Turn 3, he''d be golden.


    "We might wanna add a wing to the pitstop."


    **Of course, Luca. Of course. Focus on the race. If Aaronson pushes too much, it''s not worth it**


    "Okay," Luca replied before the radio dropped the dead, the pit crew now adding wings to the pitstop strategy.


    Luca exhaled sharply as he dove into the steep Turn 3 with poor downforce caused by a damaged front wing, courtesy of Max Addams who was ahead, unbothered, and definitely pleased with himself for what he had done. Your next read awaits at My Virtual Library Empire


    But Luca had bigger problems than Max right now.


    Aaronson was swarming him like a damn fly¡ªno, worse, a cockroach that refused to die.


    With the reduced downforce from his damaged wing, Luca had to wrestle the car through Curva Grande, but Aaronson was relentless. He was right on Luca''s diffuser, inching closer, refusing to give him any breathing room.


    Every time Luca tried to stabilize his car, Aaronson twitched in his mirrors, feinting a divebomb, threatening contact.


    This guy''s trying to send me off.


    Aaronson finally shoved his nose in aggressively, forcing Luca to tighten his line to avoid a crash. He was the last Trampos driver on the field and he had to keep it that way.


    The runoff area he had taken before, loomed temptingly to the left with safer, straight, stable and unobstructed track¡ªeverything that defined an easy escape.


    But at crucial times like this with almost 15 laps to go to end this race, Luca didn''t want to be thrown back the pack with the time-killing feature disguised as a runoff track.


    He gritted his teeth and held firm, keeping all four wheels on the main, steep track of Turn 3.


    "...Sean Aaronson is all over Luca Rennick through Curva Grande! He''s not letting up!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...he''s forcing Luca into a compromised line, Jon. He might be practically pushing him off, right now! But Rennick''s holding on, under massive pressure both from his rival and that damaged wing!"


    Luca knew there was no point dogfighting with Aaronson when he had a damaged wing, for downforce was just as crucial as traction to execute Skills that he honed.


    Moreover, according to Colt''s analysis, Luca would be in P1 anytime soon when Max and Aaronson visit the pits.


    Aaronson was disappointed when he realized that Luca wasn''t going to battle for P2 and the brat had just accepted his fate. Aaronson knew if he kept pushing he''d be handed a penalty because it was obvious Luca had given up P2.


    And then, just as they hit the straight after Turn 4¡ª


    WHOOOSH!


    Aaronson rocketed ahead, launching past Luca with DRS like a missile, seizing P2 with ruthless efficiency though he wasn''t satisfied he hadn''t taken it in a much brutal way.


    "....Aaronson sorpassa Rennick per la P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!" S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...And there it is! Aaronson finally gets ahead of Luca Rennick after a brutal fight through Curva Grande and Turn 4!"


    [3rd Position]


    "...That front wing damage really cost Rennick as he just couldn''t hold Aaronson back any longer!"


    Luca sucked it in, his gaze fixed on Aaronson''s black gearbox as his orange Dallara loomed ahead. His system quickly alerted him that he was in P3 now.


    And that meant becoming the target for the driver in P4.


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [4th Position is 3 sec away, host.]


    "Good delta, I guess."


    Calmly, Luca navigated Autodromo di Lombardia again, its turns and tribulations now veiled under the deepening evening sky.


    The sun had long dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a dim, fading glow over the park. By now, track lights and floodlights blazed, illuminating the circuit. Even from a driver''s view, the artificial brilliance was beautiful.


    Shadows stretched longer, blending into the creeping darkness of late evening. The air had turned even colder¡ªalmost freezing¡ªcarrying the lingering scent of hot rubber and burning fuel.


    Luca knew this was the perfect atmosphere for a championship celebration.


    It was just a matter of who would be lifting the trophy.


    [60th Lap]


    He managed his car and its damaged wing into the next lap, where Max and Aaronson effortlessly handed him the lead, diving into the pits. Their Dallaras were panting out of exhaustion.


    "All that, just to give me the lead again?"


    "...Luca Rennick in P1!" The announcement boomed through the park, echoing past the now-calm sitting areas outside.


    Velocit¨¤ Jnr and Squadra Jnr fans fell silent.


    But Trampos made sure they were heard.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [1st Position]

 Chapter 233 Italian Mega Prix. 15

    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 4 sec away, host.]


    Four seconds was quite the gap between P1 and P2, but that was only because the drivers who had occupied that space the lap before were now in the pits, granting P5''s Miles an uncontested inheritance of P2.


    Luca remained in P1, with Miles in P2, the gap between them now stretching to 4.5 seconds.


    Derstappen had pitted alongside Max and Aaronson, and they all exited the pit lane in the same order they had entered¡ªMax first, Aaronson second, and Derstappen last.


    With that, they slotted in behind Miles, completing the set: Max in P3, Aaronson in P4, and Derstappen in P5, narrowly slipping ahead of Kristensen in P6.


    This structure held for the entirety of Lap 60, but as Lap 61 began, Luca made his move¡ªdiving into the pits for his final stop of this Formula 2 season.


    **Crew is ready**


    The diversion of the pit lane opened, and Luca smoothly tilted his wheel, leaving the main track with fluid grace, even though his damaged front wing had caused downforce issues.


    Luca wanted this pit stop¡ªthis his last retreat to his fortress¡ªto feel special, at least to him alone.


    This might truly be the last time he''d run down the lane, stretching toward the Trampos crew waiting like surgeons ready to operate on his Dallara.


    He surrendered his speed to precision, and time had never been more crucial.


    "...Luca Rennick dives into the pit lane! This could very well be his final stop of the race¡ªhis last chance to get everything right before the final push to the checkered flag!"


    Luca frowned when he passed Squadra Jnr''s garage... after receiving passing-by slurs of course.


    Just like his previous pit stop in the race, they were meticulously arranging every tool and tire, preparing for what seemed to be a pitstop for one of their drivers as well.


    In fact, they were already in position, just like Trampos'' own crew, clearly waiting for their incoming driver.


    Luca quickly realized that it was Miles preparing to pit, not Derstappen, who had already stopped not too long ago.


    And the moment that realization hit, his heart sank!


    First things first, as he approached his own garage, he instinctively glanced at his side mirror to confirm. And there it was¡ªMiles'' black and golden livery entering the pit lane.


    Now, Luca''s heart really sank!


    "No. No. No. Miles can''t be pitting now. Not now!"


    "...A big surprise here, Miles Bellingham is heading into the pits as well! This could be a crucial moment in the race, with both the leader and his close rival making their final stops at the same time!" sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca was certain this was a calculated move, orchestrated by Mr. Mancini and his entire crew! They had timed Miles'' pitstop to align perfectly with his own, setting him up to take P1 over time.


    This was Squadra Corse Jnr''s play.


    Max, Aaronson, and Derstappen had only completed two out of the three pitstops required today. If they didn''t take the final stop soon, they''d be running on borrowed time which could result in either breaking down by Lap 72 or stretching it to Lap 74. And pitting that late in the race was always a nightmare. But regardless, they had no choice.


    However, Luca and Miles were the only two top drivers opting to get their third pitstops out of the way early.


    And with Luca carrying a 5-second penalty, he would undoubtedly stay longer in the pit box than Miles, even if Pitstop Prodigy worked at more than its current value''s efficiency.


    That meant Miles, uncontested for the brief window, would exit first, rejoining the race behind Max, Aaronson, and Derstappen at P4.


    Luca, on the other hand, would come out at P5 or P6, depending on Kristensen''s pace.


    Then, when Max, Aaronson, and Derstappen were inevitably forced to pit in the closing laps¡ªor risk sudden mechanical failure¡ªthe track would open up for Miles to inherit P1 without resistance.


    Luca didn''t even know how he''d explain this to Trampos as he coasted into the box, watching all 14 crew members rush to his Dallara with single-seater parts in gloved hands.


    From his mirror, he spotted Miles, smugly seated in his cockpit as figures in black and gold swarmed around him.


    Luca had begun to have sharp eyesight. Sharp enough to see past Miles'' visor, where his eyes gleamed with malicious intent, confidence, and the certainty of victory.


    Zip!


    "...Max Addams in P1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


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    "...Sean Aaronson in P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca gritted his teeth, gripping the wheel tighter as his Dallara came to a stop precisely on the marked pit box.


    The moment his tires locked in place, his Pitstop Prodigy system activated, displaying a real-time countdown as the Trampos crew swarmed his car with machine-like accuracy.


    The front jack lifted the nose instantly, and the four tire changers lunged forward, electric guns screaming as they tore off the worn rubber.


    Simultaneously, another set of young mechanics reached for the new front wing, aligning it with millimeter-perfect accuracy before locking it in place.


    Luca''s focus remained glued to his display, tracking the pit timer, but his peripheral vision caught movement beyond the blur of bodies working on his car.


    Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton were outside, pushing their way toward him through the controlled chaos of the pit lane.


    The tires were on as fast as possible. The wing was secure within a second. The Trampos crew dropped the car, but Luca couldn''t go anywhere yet.


    [Pitstop Prodigy +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    His penalty time had just begun.


    Five agonizing seconds.


    "...And Luca Rennick is stationary in the box, serving his five-second penalty! This is the worst possible timing for him!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s instincts screamed at him to launch forward, but he had to sit still, his fingers tightening around the wheel as the seconds dragged and McCauley counted.


    Mr. Grant leaned toward his cockpit. "Stay calm, Luca. Stay calm."


    Ms. Vallotton spoke next. "We just got some bad prediction Miles will have the upper hand," she said, taking one brief glance at Squadra''s pitbox far away. "Damnit. They''re almost done."


    "...Meanwhile, there we have it¡ªBellingham is already getting serviced and WILL be out ahead of Luca!"


    "... Luca Rennick can do nothing but sit there and wait! This is painful to watch for the Trampos fans!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca looked up at his Team Principals from his cockpit. He was glad that they were able to understand what was going to happen.


    "Oh, he''s coming," Ms. Vallotton said as she and Mr. Grant leaned away from Luca''s car.


    Luca''s eyes moved to his side mirror just to see nothing.


    A blur of black and gold streaked past.


    Miles.


    Luca''s jaw clenched as Squadra''s No. 75 roared down the pit lane, his fresh tires biting into the asphalt as he merged back onto the track.


    The Trampos crew erupted in furious shouts, hurling slurs at Miles and his team.


    "...Miles Bellingham ROLLS out of his box while Rennick is still frozen in place!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The final second for Luca ticked down.


    Green light.


    He slammed the throttle and he pounced forward, fueled by the supportive cheers of everyone in red he just left behind.


    His Dallara rocketed forward, tires screeching as he tore down the pit exit, the fire of his system literally burning in his chest.


    "...And there it is! The five seconds are up! Trampos releases Rennick back onto the track!"


    "WOOOOHH!"

 Chapter 234 Italian Mega Prix. 16: Zen Zoned

    [65th Lap]


    "..sessantacinquesimo giro qui a Monza!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "..dieci giri rimasti alla fine di questo Italian Mega Prix!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Lap 65 in the last race of the season at Monza meant there were ten laps left to conclude the F2 championship season¡ªten laps left for a champion to be celebrated and for a team to be crowned.


    In motorsport, or in any sport in general, the final stretch of a crucial event often held what most people call pre-podium celebrations.


    This was the moment when teams, mechanics, engineers, and even rival garages started hovering near pit walls, clapping, cheering, and waving their drivers on.


    It was a moment where emotions ran high, where hope, desperation, and strategy all meshed into one final push.


    Most importantly, the pre-podium celebrations were mainly orchestrated by the spectators themselves. The anticipation from every seat and row reached a fever-pitch as they began the prelude to Monza glory.


    "...The atmosphere is electric here at the Autodromo di Lombardia as we edge closer to the final laps of the Italian Mega Prix!"


    "...The spectators are already on their feet, waving flags, clapping, and chanting their drivers'' names! Flares are lighting up the grandstands, and you can feel the anticipation building¡ªeveryone knows the race isn''t over yet, but the celebrations are already beginning!"


    Within five minutes of the celebrations, the circuit was already in chaos, a real mess, indeed.


    [66th Lap]


    First of all, the now twilight sky was now filled with colorful smoke lights¡ªmostly blue, red, and golden¡ªas fans from the different teams still in championship contention wanted their colors to dominate the sky the most. In fact, the helicopters had difficulties getting a clear view of the drivers from afar due to this. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That was not the only aerial predicament because abandoned balloons followed suit. Hundreds of balloons, deliberately inflated and let go to fly into the sky, now hovered above Serpeggiare, floating so far out that Mallow and the rest beyond the circuit could see them.


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    BWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!! BWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!


    The sound of the air horns was so loud that Luca could even hear it. He knew prelude celebrations like this were often wild, but this one was literally primal¡ªespecially for Formula 2.


    Luca could hear every whistle from every lip and every chant from every group. Some supported him, some supported his rivals, while most were voiced to condemn him.


    There were about five hundred checkered flags waving now, all fake in authenticity... but they might as well have been real with how they filled the grandstands, the pit wall, and even the overpasses above the circuit.


    Luca saw them in bursts. They were all blurs of black and white rippling across the trackside, some massive and others no bigger than a handkerchief.


    They lined the barriers, fluttered from the grandstand rafters, and were even hoisted on poles by fans who had climbed onto fences just to wave them higher.


    From his cockpit, they almost looked like glitches in reality, scattered through the bends and straights of the massive circuit, forming a sea of illusions he couldn''t escape.


    They were all fake. But they were everywhere, calling for the race to end.


    BWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!! BWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!


    Everything seemed so vivid for Luca. He was certain now that his rivals couldn''t hear these air horns the way he did. It sounded as if they were being blown right beside him.


    The smoke lights and flares looked like distorted reality, patched through the dark sky, and the balloons floated almost unnaturally, their colors searing into his vision with an intensity that felt unreal.


    [67th Lap]


    "How far am I from P4?" Luca asked his system, oblivious to how resonant his voice had become.


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 255 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 107 bpm


    -Operational Status: 80% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 402500m


    -Time: 1 hr. 50min.]


    While Luca was taking note of the system information, impressed by how he''d endured almost two hours of racing, his eyes caught something unfamiliar in the system''s interface.


    Just beneath the Sync Bar at 87.5%, positioned at the bottom-right corner of the HUD, a new icon pulsed faintly. It was a minimalist, circular emblem with a single horizontal line cutting through its center.


    Luca narrowed his eyes.


    That wasn''t there before.


    [Zen Zone]


    (Available)


    "System, what''s Zen Zone?"


    [Zen Zone is an uncommon system feature provided to the host in moments of high importance. Its availability is determined solely by the system and cannot be manually activated by the host.]


    [Zen Zone induces a state of heightened clarity and fluidity, minimizing external distractions while optimizing the host''s mental and emotional state for absolute victory, and absolute victory alone.]


    "So, it''s active right now?"


    [Yes, host.]


    "I don''t feel anything."


    [Zen Zone cannot be consciously perceived. It is intangible and only noticeable when the host fully utilizes its effects.]


    [Note: Zen Zone does not enhance Attributes or Skills. However, it sharpens the host''s mental and emotional state, heightening awareness and focus, indirectly refining the senses for victory at all cost.]


    If Luca could see himself now, he might not even recognize his own reflection. His brown eyes had turned red, streaking out of his helmet, flashing through the cockpit and into the charged air of the circuit as he navigated the turn.


    Even his fingertips wrapped around the wheel, tingled with a faint red spark, and within him, his heart burned with an unrelenting fire.


    With this fire, he pushed, his jaw clenched and his focus locked in.


    The team radio remained dead because there was nothing to discuss but to watch Luca navigate in P5 until the end of the race.


    Miles was strong. Miles was tough. Luca could already see him in F1 a few years from now, maybe even his rival in the coming generation. He defended like his life depended on it, but with every lap, Luca closed the gap, millisecond after millisecond.


    [Stamina +1]


    [69th Lap]


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    "...IT IS PACKED! IT IS PACKED AT LATE LAP 69! LUCA RENNICK JOINS THE CONGESTION BEHIND BELLINGHAM"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    BWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!! BWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!


    The flares and smoke lights were condensing¡ªif that was even the right word¡ªlowering to asphalt level and slightly obstructing visibility.


    Luca, however, could still see. His eyesight was so sharp that from his own cockpit, he could make out what was being displayed on Miles'' dashboard!


    He wasn''t sure if he was going crazy, but he was certain he could even hear what Miles was discussing with his engineers over the radio.


    As soon as Miles tilted into Turn 19, Luca followed suit without hesitation. Both cars sliced into the chicane, quickly dropping speed for precision.


    As explained, Zen Zone affected Luca''s mental and physical state¡ªhis brain and the five senses¡ªnot his attributes and skills. That meant he was still bound by the track structure, forced to reduce his speed whenever making a turn.


    With time, the two snaked out of the chicane and joined Max and Aaronson on the home straight.


    "....And here they come, blasting down the home straight! The leaders are locked in, no time to breathe¡ªbecause in just moments, we''ll be starting the 70th lap of this Italian Mega Prix!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The air horns blared again, almost like a reminder to Luca that he should hit his DRS, and nailing its activation now was crucial.


    Down the straight, tucked behind his main rivals, Luca worked to slot himself right behind Miles and ride his slipstream. But Miles'' car was jittery, making it harder than expected.


    The reason was quite funny. It was a chaotic train of drivers all trying to outdo one another.


    Aaronson was hunting for Max''s slipstream, Derstappen latched onto Aaronson, and Miles was going after Derstappen''s. Greedy and restless, each driver weaved in a desperate attempt to shake off the one behind, ultimately ruining the effect for all of them.


    All except Aaronson.


    He managed to stay locked onto Max, and as they burst out of the straight''s alleyway, he hit DRS at just the right moment, launching himself forward¡ªstraight into P1!


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Appena prima della Curva 1, Aaronson supera Addams!"


    "...Sean Aaronson in P1, Max Addams in P2!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [70th Lap]


    "...Siamo arrivati al settantesimo giro di questo Gran Premio Italiano!"


    ".... SEVENTIETH LAP IN THIS FINALE!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "....Cinque giri alla gloria a Monza!"


    "....FIVE LAPS TO GLORY IN MONZA!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca studied his rivals'' cars as he joined them into the turns. He focused on Derstappen, Max, and Aaronson, as they were the ones he planned to analyze.


    Unfortunately, Max and Aaronson were too far ahead to be properly assessed, but Derstappen was within range. That was great because Luca could gauge Max and Aaronson''s performance based on Derstappen''s assessment.


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h (261 km/h) (295¡ª261km/h in the last five seconds) (20km/h each millisecond)


    Acceleration: 3.5 sec (0¡ª100km/h) (28.57 km/h per second)


    Max Power: 620 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]


    [Operational Status: 60%]


    Sixty percent Operational Status was practically the most skeptical value a car could have at this stage of the race.


    There were five laps left until the race ended, and five standard laps were more than enough to force an F3 chassis into the pits.


    So, this 60% Operational Status was a value stuck in between enduring the full race distance or breaking down before the checkered flag.


    If Derstappen''s car held together, it meant Max and Aaronson''s might as well. But if Derstappen''s machine started to falter, then the probability of the others suffering the same fate skyrocketed.


    Luca trusted 4-star Team Principals like Mr. Lugo and Mancini to not make such a risky gamble, instead insisting on a final pit stop. That was his prediction. Because if they didn''t, he might just end up finishing the Italian Mega Prix in P5.


    -----


    A/N: Thanks for 100 Golden Tickets and 1000 Privilege Unlocks.

 Chapter 235 Italian Mega Prix. 17

    [71st Lap]


    Alas! After a minute and a half driving around the circuit again and back to the home straight, Luca''s heightened hearing was able to catch the conversation of a pitstop from all three of them!


    Aaronson, Max and Derstappen would be pitting in a single file into the 71st Lap!


    Aaronson''s Radio:


    "Box, box. Lap 71. Let''s get this done quick."


    Max''s Radio:


    "We''re coming in Lap 71. Need a clean stop, no mistakes."


    Derstappen''s Radio:


    "Pit on Lap 71. Make sure tires are ready."


    Unbeknownst to them, all three had chosen the same lap!


    Smart of them. With four laps remaining, this was the perfect time for a late last pit stop. The first lap would be crucial to get heat back into the tires, while the remaining three would give them just enough time to launch one final charge for position.


    [Straightaway ahead!]


    Luca was now fully confident that he''d be in P2 within seconds, with Miles taking an open P1. So, he didn''t bother pressuring Miles this early; instead, he drove and weaved with the pack onto the home straight, which they were now on.


    BWWWWWWAAAAAHHHHH!! BWWWWAAAAAAAHHHHH!!


    "...Ladies and gentlemen, we are now entering Lap 71, and the final race of the season is reaching its thrilling climax! Just four laps to go, and every second counts...!"


    "...The title fight, the rivalries, the season-long drama¡ªall of it has led to this! The final laps of the season are upon us, and nothing is certain yet...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Settantunesimo giro in questo Mega Gran Premio d''Italia...!"


    Luca''s eyes locked onto Aaronson as he veered into the pit lane first. Just a second later, Max followed, and Luca could only imagine the shock on Aaronson''s face when he caught sight of Max in his mirrors.


    Even with Zen Zone active, Luca''s red eyes couldn''t quite make out a person''s full expression through their helmet¡ªat least, not yet.


    Then, half a second later, Derstappen darted into the pits as well.


    The crowd erupted.


    "WOOOOHH!


    "...Hold on¡ªAlbert Derstappen follows! All three are pitting at the same time!"


    "...Two title contenders, three final pit stops, all stacking into the pit lane! This could make or break the race...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **This is wonderful, Luca!**


    "...The tension is through the roof here, Jon! One mistake here could decide the entire championship...!"


    The roar of the crowd echoed through the circuit¡ªLap 71 was delivering fireworks.


    It was literally delivering fireworks.


    Some spectators were caught up in the sheer chaos of the moment, and had started shooting them prematurely into the late 6 p.m. sky, bright streaks of red, white, and green bursting above the circuit.


    Security would definitely have something to say about that later, but for now, the atmosphere was electric.


    As soon as Derstappen cleared the way for Miles, he seized the opening and sliced into Turn 1.


    At that exact moment, his name shot up the leaderboard, tackling Aaronson''s name out of P1 and cementing his smug face there.


    "...MILES BELLINGHAM IN P1!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Unbelievable! Miles Bellingham takes the lead for Squadra Corse Jnr as his rivals roll into the pitlane!"


    [2nd Position]


    "...The crowd is on its feet¡ªSquadra Corse Jnr is leading in the final laps of the season with Trampos'' Rennick behind at P2!"


    "...Can Bellingham hold on? Can he make history and win his first formula 2 title in his first year?!"


    "...Miles Bellingham in P1, Luca Rennick in P2 in questo gran finale...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host''s distance from 1st Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    Without hesitation, Luca''s instincts of Overtaking Skill kicked in rapidly as he chased Miles out of Turn 1 and into Turn 2. His front wing got so close to Miles'' rear at the bottleneck of Turn 2 that they almost made contact.


    The grandstands trembled under the weight of the roaring crowd because this was it. This was the peak duel of the season, the one that would determine who would lead the pack as the race was coming to an end.


    "...Bellingham leads, but Rennick is right there! Inches away! Can he make the move?!"


    "....This is the battle we''ve waited all season for! The championship hangs in the balance!"


    Luca''s heart rate remained steady, unnervingly calm, while Miles'' pounded like a war drum. Luca could hear it.


    Even the sharp, heavy breaths fogging up Miles'' visor¡ªLuca could hear those too.


    **He''s right on you, Miles! Stay composed**


    Miles'' radio chatter came through loud and clear to Luca''s heightened hearing.


    "I know. I see him." Miles'' voice was tight and controlled, but Luca could tell that he felt the pressure.


    Luca shifted to the inside line as they exited Turn 2 toward Turn 3. The announcement that he anticipated was broadcasted loudly.


    "...Max Addams in P3!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Albert Derstappen in P4!"


    "...Sean Aaronson in P5!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...Max Addams exits the pits first and takes P3!"


    "....Aaronson had a slow stop, and it''s cost him big time! Derstappen sneaks past¡ªhe''s into P4!"


    "...Unbelievable! Just two laps ago, Sean Aaronson was leading this race, and now he''s all the way down in P5!"


    "...Unless something drastic happens, this could be where he finishes!"


    [Analyzing 3rd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [3rd Position is 4.5 sec away, host.]


    Luca could now say with certainty that Max and the others were no longer his problem. Their cold tires, sluggish momentum, and ongoing battles among themselves would keep them occupied.


    His entire focus, his every ounce of willpower, was now locked onto Miles. P1 was right there. The F2 Championship was within reach. And beyond that? The next step toward becoming the greatest driver motorsport had ever seen.


    But Miles¡ªMiles had the audacity to deny him the slipstream.


    Luca''s grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles whitening as they shot out of the steep incline of Turn 3 and into the sweeping curve of Turn 4.


    The straight was ahead. And straights? Straights changed everything.


    **You can take it Luca. Now or never** Mr. Ruben said softly into the radio, although his voice was filled with tension and urgency.


    "He''s very tough.


    "...out of Turn 4 and onto the straight they go! This is where races are won and lost!"


    "System, can you give me a real-time display of when I lock in the slipstream...?" Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Certainly, host]


    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect)


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing)


    Car <<<¡ª LOCKED IN (Maximum slipstream advantage)


    [Real-Time Speed Gain: +0.27s/lap]


    [Overtake Window: Optimal]


    Slipstream was locked in now, and it was all left to Luca to execute the remaining steps of Slipstream Mastery to overtake Miles with it.


    The engine screamed, the chassis trembled under the sheer force as he shot down the straight, tearing through the wake of Miles'' car like a missile.


    Nosing in.


    Nosing in.


    Just a little more.


    The air resistance was gone. The drag had melted away. Luca''s car surged forward with terrifying momentum, his front wing inches¡ªcentimeters¡ªfrom Miles'' gearbox.


    The tension in his arms burned. His grip on the wheel was suffocating. But his mind? His mind was very very clear.


    ".... ACTION TIME as Luca Rennick closes in with the slipstream! He''s nosing in¡ªpushing¡ªforcing every ounce of power out of that car!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "..do you think Bellingham would hold off, Jon?!"


    "...if the straightaway was a little bit longer then I''d confidently say no. But now, it seems Turn 5 is opening up much faster than Luca Rennick might have expected..."


    [Chicane approaching]


    [Turn Sequence: Three-turn chicane (Right-Left-Right)]


    [Entry Width: 8.0 meters ¡ú Narrowing to Apex: 6.5 meters ¡ú Exit Width: 7.6 meters]


    Luca could hear the sigh of relief from Miles as Turn 5 approached and its accompanying chicane.


    Miles believed he had held Luca, especially when Luca didn''t use DRS, aware of his now 60 Operational Status that needed energy conservation.


    But what Miles didn''t realize was that Luca''s mental state was on a whole new level of focus for absolute victory and nothing else. Experience more tales on My Virtual Library Empire


    The straight track began subtly bending to merge with Turn 5. It reminded Luca of his duel with Kristensen and how it ended, giving him a clue about this one.


    He had his wings in Miles'' peripheral vision.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Track Span Analysis: 2.5 meters wide (inside lane available)] [Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 1.8 meters]


    [Car Width: 1.9 meters] [Margin for Error: 0.3 meters (0.15 meters on each side)]


    [Possibility of Overtake: 31% success rate] [Risk of Car Contact with Rival: 90%]


    Luca remembered his Daily Quest, the rewards, and the punishment attached.


    Why win the race and end up celebrating with red sores when he could take the Formula 2 Championship trophy and a feature as great as Tuning Upgrade¡ªgreat as the system described it?


    In that moment, a Zen-Zoned Luca reminisced on Miles¡ªwho he had been to him all his life. For what it was worth, Luca came to one conclusion that Miles deserved to be the stepping stone to his triumph in Monza.


    If he had to take P1, he had to take it now. The space was tight, but a Dallara could fit!


    **GET IN THERE, LUCA!** Mr. Ruben''s voice erupted through the radio.


    Luca obeyed, throwing his car into Turn 5 with reckless abandon.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s front lunged in, the tires biting the asphalt as he swung the rear out with intent.


    He heard Miles'' sharp gasp just before the impact as his rear slammed into Miles like a sledgehammer, shattering carbon fiber on contact.


    "... JESUS CHRIST...!"

 Chapter 236 Italian Mega Prix. 18: Miles DNF

    A high-pitched ringing drilled through Miles'' skull.


    His breath was loud inside his helmet, shallow, uneven, fogging up his visor. His fingers twitched on instinct, gripping at nothing.


    "What the hell¡­?" he thought.


    The world was spinning, but he wasn''t moving.


    Blur and fog clouded his head, and the warning lights on his dashboard flashed erratically. As his vision slowly cleared, he noticed his steering wheel was tilted at an unnatural angle, completely skewed from the impact.


    The side mirror was gone. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The front wings were twisted. Mangled.


    What was once a sleek, million-dollar bodywork of a machine was now torn open, exposing its delicate internals to the rush of the celebratory air at Serpeggiare.


    Miles'' hearing returned fully, though everything sounded distant like he was underwater.


    The air horns still blew loudly, and the announcements were going wild.


    "....BANDIERA ROSSA!"


    "...RED FLAG! RED FLAG!"


    "...Ladies and gentlemen, the F2 Italian Mega Prix has just delivered one of the most shocking moments in Formula 2 history!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The good news was that Miles was still alive and well. That much was clear from the way he groggily moved within his cockpit.


    His shoulders rose and fell with uneven breaths, his body sluggish, weighed down by the shock of impact.


    Miles had no idea where Luca had bashed his car to. He was definitely not on the track.


    He tore off his helmet, taking a deep breath of the polluted, colored air, before attempting to climb out of his wrecked Dallara.


    Only then did he realize that he was right in the middle of the main advertisement pavement, the same place Kristensen had skidded away laps ago.


    Beyond his crash site, billows of smoke rose from the grandstands, neon flares piercing through the growing dusk.


    Marshals in bright orange vests rushed through the flares and smoke, toward the wreckage, fire extinguishers and medical kits in their hands.


    "...Debris everywhere on the circuit¡ªrace control has immediately called a red flag...!"


    "...It''s absolute carnage on the circuit¡ªBellingham and Rennick''s battle ends in disaster...!"


    "...A high-speed collision into Turn 5, and the red flag is out...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [RED FLAG]


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    This was the third time the red flag was raised in a race this season. The first went for Max, the second for Luca himself, and the third¡ªon the finale in Monza¡ªMiles had the most horrific front impact, courtesy of his former high school classmate.


    The shock on Mr. Mancini''s face couldn''t be described. His eyes had sunk deep, his arms were still folded, and his expression wavered between fury, disbelief, and something dangerously close to heartbreak.


    He was usually a pillar of composure, far more composed than Mr. Lugo, but now, it looked as though the weight of the entire season had just crashed down on him.


    His engineers, who had been gripping their helmets, slowly removed them, staring at telemetry screens showing the sudden drop in speed and the spike in g-forces which were a brutal confirmation of the impact.


    The entire Squadra Corse Jnr crew, spectators, and business owners were silent, their mouths moving soundlessly.


    Even Trampos'' garage was silent as well. No one was celebrating because everyone was in shock.


    Mr. Ruben cleared his throat and spoke into the radio.


    Luca heard the words crackle through the static, loud and clear, as if he were right there in the stuffy telemetry room with them.


    **We might be looking at a penalty here, son**


    Luca didn''t reply. Instead, he steadied his car to match the speed limit required as the safety car was officially announced. The bright orange lights flashed ahead, its presence cementing the severity of what had just happened.


    Sure, there''d be a debate on whether this deserved a penalty, but Luca was confident his verdict would be innocent.


    The rules of the FIA stated that in a duel, especially during the slim entrance of a turn, contact was always a high possibility because of the curved trajectory. In that case, blame for a crash wouldn''t simply be assigned based on impact alone.


    It would depend on who pressed down the other, who left no escape route, or who deliberately forced contact while squeezing in.


    In Luca''s case now, the stewards would review whether he had genuinely gone for Turn 5, or if he had dived in specifically to wipe out Miles.


    Luca already knew his answer.


    He went for Turn 5. He took the gap. The opening was there, and he committed. All he did was swing the rear of his car after drifting into the gap, and smashing Miles into smithereens.


    "...Marshals rushing to the scene now, let''s hope Bellingham is okay, because it looks like Rennick is!"


    "...Replays are coming in now¡­ and oh my goodness, Luca dived in aggressively¡ªwas there enough space?! This is a controversial move!"


    "...The marshals are already on the scene! What a disastrous moment for Squadra Corse Jnr!"


    **Watch your delta to Addams. Safety car''s out**


    The marshals reached Miles in no time, swiftly helping him out of the wreckage. All around, the other Dallaras crept through Turn 5 at a controlled pace, weaving past the shattered debris, their engines humming low under the safety car''s command.


    Miles had a slight concussion, and the marshals kept a firm grip on him as he found his footing, offering him instant supplements to keep his head clear.


    The camera drones dived through the thick air of blue, golden, and red smoke, capturing every moment as Miles was carefully escorted off the advertisement pavement toward the pitlane in the distance.


    "...And what a heartbreaking turn of events for Miles Bellingham¡ªjust moments from potential glory...!"


    "...We''ve been talking about the rivalry between Luca and Miles all season, Steve, and now it''s ended in carnage for the Englishman, the white lion!"


    "...The red flags are waving, Luca Rennick still holds ground after that bone-crushing contact, and when this is over, he might go on to claim P1!"


    "...I''m very much pleased with your use of ''might,'' Steve..."


    "...Why so...?"


    "...Race Control is reviewing, Race Control is on it. Luca Rennick should get a good lawyer because it''s not looking good...!"


    "...Miles Bellingham subisce un ritiro!"

 Chapter 237 Italian Mega Prix. 19: Tuning Upgrade

    "System, did I accomplish the Quest?"


    "I''m very sure I was making use of Overtaking Skill when I crashed him."


    "Don''t tell me I ruined a fellow driver''s race for nothing."


    [Ding!]


    [Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!]


    "Great!"


    [You have been rewarded with (EXP)!


    -Strength +1


    -Endurance +1] S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I must be averaging 30 now in my Attributes."


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a feature:


    -Tuning Upgrade ]


    Finally, Luca had unlocked this Tuning Upgrade the system had ever so overhyped. He wondered if it would actually live up to the hype, or if the system was just exaggerating. But something about the name alone made him think it had to be cool.


    Luca took a deep breath. The safety car parade was still ongoing, as was his potential penalty review. So, he had enough time to communicate with the system.


    "So, c''mon, say it. What''s Tuning Upgrade about?"


    [Retrieving Data...]


    [...Data successfully retrieved]


    [Tuning Upgrade is a feature that grants the host the ability to manually enhance Attributes and Skills at will. Instead of relying solely on natural progression or predefined upgrade paths, the host can directly allocate upgrade points with a simple mental command.]


    "What the¡ª"


    Luca couldn''t believe it! Had he just discovered a glitch to the system?


    He reread the explanation again, a smile creeping into his face as he realized leveling up might just turn out to be much easier!


    So in other words, instead of waiting for things to improve over time, he could just decide to boost his stats?


    "I hope there''s no catch to this?"


    [There is no definite "catch" as host states. However, the full description of Tuning Upgrade and its mechanism is as follows:]


    [Tuning Upgrade is a feature that grants the host the ability to manually enhance Attributes and Skills by using tools which can be acquired from Daily Quests, Race Wins and other accomplishments]


    [Catalyst (Self Upgrade) :


    ¡ªThe Catalyst tool can help refine host, allowing you to enhance your attributes and skills through direct selection.


    ¡ª1 Catalyst equals 1 Skill EXP


    ¡ª1 Catalyst equals 3 Attributes EXP


    ¡ª3 Catalyst equals 1 Wrench ]


    [Wrench (Car Upgrade):


    ¡ªThe Wrench tool is the counterpart to Catalyst, designed to enhance the car itself when host unlocks Professional Bundle. It allows host to fine-tune the car''s performance, rather than relying solely on natural leveling up and the team''s engineering staff.


    ¡ª1 Wrench equals 1 Skill EXP


    ¡ª1 Wrench equals 3 Attributes EXP


    ¡ª1 Wrench equals 3 Catalysts ]


    [Ding!]


    [Starter Reward!]


    [You have received 1 Wrench!]


    [Note: Catalysts and Wrenches expire upon anytime host makes use of Sync Buff]


    Luca stared at the interface, trying to process the sheer depth of what he had just unlocked. His eyes flicked from one line of text to the next, mentally dissecting the mechanics behind Catalyst and Wrench.


    "This is... extreme."


    Catalyst for me, Wrench for the car... But they convert into each other?


    His fingers twitched over the wheel as he muttered under his breath.


    One Catalyst equals three Attribute EXP, but one Wrench equals three Catalysts.


    That meant a single Wrench was basically nine Attribute EXP, or three Skill EXP if converted properly.


    "What in the world is this feature, first of all?!"


    [System has provided an icon box titled <INVENTORY> where host can keep count of how many Catalysts and Wrenches he has]


    "Hmm. I''ll check that later," Luca said as he reread the whole thing again to fully grasp it.


    Then his eyes landed again on the last line.


    [Note: Catalysts and Wrenches expire upon anytime host makes use of Sync Buff]


    His brows furrowed. Sync Buff... so if he ever activated it, he''d lose whatever Catalysts or Wrenches he had? That was a serious trade-off. Did that mean Sync Buff was that overpowered, or was it just a failsafe to prevent him from abusing the system?


    Luca inhaled sharply as he navigated to the inventory the system just provided.


    [¡ªWrenches: 1]


    A Wrench. Right from the get-go. A gift, I guess.


    He sat back in his cockpit, the distant hum of engines and safety car sirens still somewhere in his mind. His thoughts were running wild.


    "Do I use this Wrench on myself? Convert it to Catalysts and take all my attributes to 30?"


    "I don''t have any such thing as car upgrading yet. System doesn''t want to tell me, but I know Professional Bundle has to do with upgrading the car that I drive."


    That''s why¡ªTHAT''S WHY YOU FREAKING GAVE ME THIS QUEST! Nice!


    Luca studied the wrench. It definitely looked like a real wrench, ready to turn and turn, tune and tune a single-seater to perfection. Too bad he didn''t have Professional Bundle yet. The Wrench was useless.


    Unless he converted it to three Catalysts and use it on himself instead.


    Luca began to ponder how to make good use of this Wrench. Because from what he could perceive, these tools would come rare, and he didn''t want to waste any potential.


    "System, show me all my Attributes."


    [Generating host''s Attributes...]


    [....Generation completed]


    [Strength: 29


    Stamina: 32


    Endurance: 30


    Agility: 28


    Intelligence: 29 ]


    Luca needed only Strength, Agility and Intelligence to make it to 30 to unlock another Skill.


    If he were to convert this single Wrench to three Catalysts, he''d be able to then get nine EXP and use it in any manner he liked.


    He might just nonchalantly assign +2 EXP each to all Attributes except Stamina which he would assign +1. This would take them to these:


    Strength¡ª31, Stamina¡ª33, Endurance¡ª32, Agility¡ª30, Intelligence¡ª31.


    Luca was certain if he went through with this, he''d unlock a new Skill.


    His mind hovered at the interface, ready to commit, until his eyes caught something else on the screen.


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    He hesitated.


    Was his priority unlocking a Skill that he''d have to grind up from (2)? Or was it winning this race and finally securing the Professional Bundle?


    And what if the new Skill wasn''t even useful right now?


    No. His first Tuning Upgrade had to be impactful. He needed something that would make a difference¡ªnow.


    Four laps remained.


    Just four.


    Would he even have enough time to complete the Sync Bar before the checkered flag?


    His rivals definitely had better car Operational Status than he did. Luca needed an upper hand.


    His mind flashed back to the conversion rates and he recalled the use. Then, Luca asked his system to change the Wrench to three Catalysts. Your next journey awaits at My Virtual Library Empire


    [Processing request...]


    [Conversion initiated...]


    [1 Wrench ¡ú 3 Catalysts]


    [Conversion successful!]


    [Current Inventory:


    ¡ª Catalysts: 3


    ¡ª Wrenches: 0]


    [Note: Catalysts can be allocated to Attributes or Skills at host''s discretion.]


    "Okay. Show me all my uncompleted Skills."


    [Generating...]


    [... successfully generated.]


    [Pitstop Prodigy: 13


    Corner Chopping: 14


    Straightaway Chopping:8


    Spatial Awareness : 7


    Night Mastery: 4


    Grid Launch: 7


    Slipstream Mastery: 8


    Side-by-Side King: 8


    Slipsense & Rainborne: 3]


    It didn''t matter which he upgraded with the Catalysts. All that mattered was that he completed his second Sync Buff of this race.


    So, Luca decided to go with Grid Launch. At least, in the first race of next season, he might just have the upper hand at the grid.


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 3 Catalysts to Grid Launch...]


    [Grid Launch: 7 ¡ú 10]


    [Current Inventory:


    ¡ª Catalysts: 0


    ¡ª Wrenches: 0]


    "Nooooooo," Luca wailed dramatically. He was already in love with those two tools.


    [Grid Launch +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used.]


    It was official now: Luca had completed two Sync Bars in one race.


    He was leading the pack in the parade. All he had to do was resume the race with this monstrosity called Sync Buff, and he was on his way to victory!


    As the system began loading the next display to randomly determine the Sync Buff duration, Luca turned his attention to the wild circuit around him.


    For some reason, Miles'' crash didn''t bother him¡ªdefinitely because of Zen Zone¡ªbut he was still wary about the penalty verdict.


    Whether he was innocent or guilty, Luca would forever be seen as guilty in the eyes of the Italian crowd, mainly Squadra Corse and Bueseno Velocit¨¤.


    The French Grand Prix had its own controversy with the DNF he forced Max into. Now... the Italian Mega Prix had its own sauce.


    As the safety car gradually concluded its purpose, the announcement of the verdict was broadcasted loud and clear.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The crowd went wild as the announcement relayed that Luca was found innocent of foul play.

 Chapter 238 Italian Mega Prix . 20; Season Conclusion

    "...AS INNOCENT AS A BLANK SHEET OF PAPER! No penalty for Luca Rennick...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The Trampos crowd erupted in celebration, shouting and chanting about how unstoppable they truly were.


    The massive circuit screens began replaying the collision, this time with analytical lines and assessments that broke down Luca''s innocence in the crash.


    Luca''s swoop into the turn failed to exhibit any real recklessness or signs of intent to collide with Miles, ultimately failing the mens rea analysis and proving his innocence.


    Though, in truth, Luca was anything but innocent. But in that moment, he had executed the move so smoothly that he was innocent. After all, whatever the verdict declared was reality and was what truly mattered.


    Luca was innocent.


    No one could even accuse Race Control of favoring him in this decision, or in any previous rulings from this race or the last.


    That theory didn''t hold up.


    How could Race Control possibly favor Luca when they were under the same governing body that had charged him with doping accusations? The very same body that had nearly stripped him of the chance to compete in this very Italian Mega Prix?


    Definitely not possible.


    But the rival fans of Squadra Corse weren''t having any of it. They erupted in fury, yelling and chanting the most hostile slurs in protest of the verdict.


    Yet Trampos fans, ecstatic and triumphant, drowned them out with the legendary chant¡ª


    "UNAUFHALTBAR TRAMPOS!"


    "...Luca Rennick, once on the brink of a penalty, now finds himself not only absolved but in prime position to take this race by storm...!"


    "...Who could''ve predicted this? Miles Bellingham, out of contention! The young man who seemed destined for victory is now watching from the sidelines, and the entire dynamic of this Mega Prix has shifted in just a matter of moments...!"


    Trampos'' garage burst into celebration the moment Luca was declared not guilty of targeting the driver instead of the turn.


    After maintaining a tense calm for the past two hours, they finally let loose, not just because Luca had avoided what could have been a severe penalty, but because he was now sitting in P1 with the safety car preparing to leave!


    "...La safety car sta per rientrare ai box..."


    "... misfortune have struck Miles Bellingham and Squadra Corse Jnr, but the race will resume regardless as the safety car prepares to leave the track..."


    [Determining Sync Buff duration....]


    [Processing: ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ1:10¨ˆ??4:35??? 50%]


    [Processing: ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ?? 80%]


    [Finalizing Sync Buff Time...]


    [...Sync Buff duration determined!]


    [Sync Buff Duration: 2 Minutes, 17 Seconds]


    "Two minutes, seventeen seconds," Luca repeated softly after the system.


    This duration was shorter than the last and far shorter than the original five minutes. This Sync Buff duration could only last him for two laps, maybe with some extra minutes into the final lap.


    With that being said, Luca was confident that it''d be enough to help him finish the race in P1 once he resumed the pack''s pace.


    Four laps left, with two laps of certainty in driving perfection. With these two laps, he''d definitely widen the gap between himself and Max, who was currently in P2, so much so that the remaining two laps wouldn''t be enough for anyone to catch up.


    Luca couldn''t believe he was about to claim a definite victory! No close calls, no photo finish, no last-minute duels?! Just him, rolling through the curves of the last section alone, then flying down the home straight to the finish line.


    **Alright, Luca** Mr. Ruben''s voice emerged, breathing heavily as if he could taste the victory already. **Safety car''s left. Make it to the grid and make a burst**


    "Copy," Luca responded, keeping his pace steady as he eyed the pit lane.


    Up ahead, Squadra Corse Jnr''s garage loomed in the distance, shrouded in something heavier than just their signature black.


    It was a darkness of disappointment, frustration, and disbelief. Their arms were folded, their gazes locked onto his car as it rolled past into Turn 1, their silence louder than any protest.


    Luca refocused on the track, leading the pack on the long haul back to the grid.


    Max''s grip on the wheel was so tight he could feel the texture pressing into his skin, his pulse hammering. Watching Luca hold P1¡ªafter all that¡ªsent a raw wave of frustration through him.


    He had done everything right. Driven as perfectly as he could. Calculated every move. And yet, here he was, trailing behind a man¡ªa boy¡ªwho, in his mind, shouldn''t even be in this position.


    His breathing turned shallow.


    He had four laps. Four laps to change everything.


    Aaronson''s frustration was no less fierce. He loathed the fact that the illustrative description of Luca leading the pack to resume the race felt as if he was actually dragging them forward. As if he was their conqueror, marching at the front lines, forcing the rest of them to trail behind in his wake.


    Aaronson gritted his teeth. He was in P4 now, and he refused to be just another name in Luca''s story.


    "....And here we go, ladies and gentlemen! The pack is making its way back to the grid, and you can feel the tension thick enough to cut with a knife...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "....The dust has settled, the verdict is out, and Luca Rennick still holds P1. But don''t be fooled because this race is far from over..."


    "...Max Addams in P2, Squadra Corse Jnr''s Derstappen in P3, Aaronson in P4, and behind them, the rest of the hungry pack, all eyeing top spots. The restart is about to be chaos...."


    It was almost comical how three of the top teams this season lost one driver in this race¡ªTrampos, Velocit¨¤ Jnr and Squadra Jnr.


    Now everything was on an equal level and the victory of the winner would be unchallenged.


    Luca wanted to time his Sync Buff with perfection so he could kick off the 72nd Lap with it.


    [Straightaway ahead]


    This was it.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    "Yes."


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 29 ???? 50


    Stamina: 32 ???? 50


    Endurance: 30 ???? 50


    Agility: 28 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 29 ???? 50 ]


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping/Spatial Awareness/ Night Mastery/ Grid Launch/ Slipstream Mastery/ Side-by-Side King/ Slipsense & Rainborne]


    This actually turned out to be a tough dilemma for Luca. Sitting at P1, he didn''t need skills that would support overtaking because he was already at top. He needed something that would improve his pace and push him even further ahead.


    His mind drifted back to the Spanish Grand Prix, to those final laps when he had activated Sync Buff while leading the race.


    ~"Choose any goddamn skill, I don''t care!!!!"~"Yes!!!!"~


    "Damn... I really asked the system to do that?"


    After some thought, Luca realized that most of his uncompleted Skills weren''t designed to help a driver extend a lead. They were more suited for aggressive recoveries like the comeback he had pulled off in France.


    With that in mind, he made his decision. He would boost Reflexes, a completed Skill, along with Track Awareness, another completed one. And just in case anyone surprisingly managed to close the gap in Serpeggiare''s treacherous corners, he''d throw in Corner Chopping as well.


    [Successfully Selected!]


    [Reflexes: 20 (+4) ???? 50


    Track Awareness: 20 (+6) ???? 50


    Corner Chopping: 14 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 2 min. 16 sec left for Sync Buff]


    "Alright. Zen Zone and Sync Buff must be a lethal combination, right?"


    [71st Lap (R)]


    "...and we are back racing in the Italian Mega Prix! The 71st lap is officially underway...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca Rennick leads them off the line, controlling the restart from P1! The pack is bunched up, engines roaring as they charge toward Turn 1...!"


    "...The tension is sky-high as we enter the final laps of this finale...!"


    Luca wasted three seconds of his Sync Buff timer as he decided to see the lengths Max would go to snatch P1.


    Ruthless, tenacious, relentless.


    At this rate of competition and aggression, Luca doubted there wouldn''t be another safety car in just four laps. Someone was definitely going to crash if he didn''t give them some space.


    Moreover, when he increased the gap to an inevitable victory, it''d definitely make them lessen their aggression because they''d realize the battle for P1 was already lost.


    The more Luca would extend his lead, the more their desperation would wane, shifting their focus to securing the best position behind him rather than recklessly chasing an unattainable win.


    Luca gripped the wheel tighter, channeling the full force of his Sync Buff as he launched into Turn 2. His tires bit into the asphalt, every micro-adjustment of the wheel guided by Reflexes and Track Awareness.


    He could feel his Dallara responding to him, more alive than ever! If this was the last time he''d drive an F2 04, then he should make it count!


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [Reanalyzing...]


    [2nd Position is 3 sec away, host.]


    [Reanalyzing...]


    [2nd Position is 4 sec away, host.]


    Continue reading at My Virtual Library Empire


    [72nd Lap]


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Settantesimo secondo giro di questo Italian Mega Prix, Luca Rennick mantiene ancora la P1...!"


    "...Luca Rennick is flying! That Dallara is dialed in, and at this rate, Max, Derstappen and Aaronson are fighting for scraps...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Three laps, Luca, three laps! Don''t let them breathe!**


    Luca didn''t need the encouragement. He was already on it. Through the circuit''s treacherous curves, he used his Reflexes and Agility to perfection, slicing through the apexes, widening the gap.


    At the first straight of the 72nd Lap, Max emerged out of Turn 4, hoping to get a glimpse of Luca and possibly execute DRS¡ªuse his slipstream or something.


    But Luca wasn''t in sight.


    "...INCREDIBILE DA LUCA! LA VELOCIT¨¤! LA POTENZA! FORZA PURA! LUCA RENNICK! LUCA RENNICK...!" S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [You have 30 seconds left for Sync Buff]


    [73rd Lap]


    [Sync Buff has elapsed!]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 0%]


    Luca made an assessment on how far the Sync Buff had carried him, gauging his distance from Max and the toll it took on his car''s Operational Status.


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]


    [2nd Position is 7 sec away, host.]


    [Operational Status: 50%]


    "...Seven seconds! Seven whole seconds! Luca Rennick has obliterated the competition! This is domination at its finest! Max Addams simply has no answer¡ªnobody does! Rennick is flying to victory with an unstoppable lead...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    ----------------------


    "Come on, love," Ansel said to his little niece, Emma, as he stood up. "Let''s cheer Mr. Luca to the finish line." He lifted her into his arms, making sure she had a clear view as Luca blazed past Turn 9.


    Emma, wearing a Trampos fan shirt with Luca''s #21 engulfed in flames, looked just like any other young Trampos supporter in the crowd. Ansel hoisted her onto his shoulders, giving her the best seat in the house.


    Alongside Ken, they joined the thousands of Trampos fans, clapping twice in perfect rhythm, their voices rising in unison as Luca stormed into Lap 74.


    --------------------


    **Luca, one more! Just one more!** Mr. Ruben was practically begging. **Bring it home!**


    Luca''s tires were wearing, but his rhythm was untouchable. Every sector lit up green. His Dallara was nearly depleted, but the damage had been done. The lead was his.


    Max, Derstappen, and Aaronson saw this and could only swallow their words of ambition from before the restart.


    Luca''s Sync Buff had expired, yet he still held that gap, keeping them three sectors behind. He was practically racing alone now, with only the deafening cheers of his supporters and the bitter jeers of his detractors filling the circuit and reigning down on his car as he drove into the last lap of the season!


    [75th Lap]


    "...Giro finale del Mega Premio d''Italia!"


    "...FINAL LAP OF THE RACE AND THE CROWD CHEERS LUCA RENNICK TO VICTORY...!"


    "...MAX ADDAMS IS UNABLE TO KEEP UP TO HIM, AND LUCA RENNICK HAS HIS OWN FATE IN HIS HANDS AS HE MAKES IT TO THE LAST SECTOR!"


    The marshal responsible for the checkered flag took his position, leaned forward, and began waving it through the thick atmosphere of colored smoke and the scent of fuel and rubber.


    Unbeknownst to Luca, his system had deactivated Zen Zone, and he was now driving with full emotional awareness toward victory.


    How was he on the final straight, about to become the F2 World Champion, leading drivers who had been in the competition for years?


    He, Luca Rennick, had just blocked a powerhouse like Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr from turning F2 into a farmer''s competition?


    "...LUCA RENNICK IN TESTA! ¨¨ SOLO LUI! SOLO LUI...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...TRAMPOS IN FESTA! GUARDATE LE BANDIERE! LUCA RENNICK ¨¨ IMBATTIBILE...!"


    The checkered flag waved in the distance¡ªnot the fake ones from the spectators, but the real one.


    "...BANDIERA A SCACCHI IN VISTA! LUCA RENNICK, CAMPIONE DEL MEGA PREMIO D''ITALIA...!"


    **Yes, yes, YES!** Mr. Ruben shouted as Luca stormed down the straight.


    Luca heard the radio crackle roughly and then go silent because Mr. Ruben and all the engineers had hurriedly dashed out of the telemetry room, out of the garage, and onto the pit lane under the dark sky, ready to run down to his car as a crowd!


    Luca loosened his grip on the wheel as he coasted through to victory, barely able to believe it.


    "...LUCA RENNICK IS FORMULA 2 CHAMPION...!"


    "....LUCA RENNICK ¨¨ CAMPIONE DI F2, RENNICK ¨¨ CAMPIONE A MONZA...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [1ST POSITION]


    ===


    ===


    ===


    A/N: This is the end of Volume 1

 Chapter 239 My Season Revision

    TWO WEEKS LATER


    -------------------------------


    For the past two weeks, Luca''s dreams had always been a reminiscence of his victory in Monza. He''d relive the moment every night, both consciously before his eyes went shut and unconsciously when he was already deep in dreamland.


    [1ST POSITION] his system had announced then, as the circuit erupted into full chaos.


    "...In the fortress of his rivals, in their home territory, Luca Rennick emerges victorious and crowns himself champion of Formula 2...!"


    Luca vividly remembered mentally swiping away the system''s interface as he pushed himself out of his cockpit and into the loud atmosphere as loud as rain.


    There, on the biggest screen, he was being displayed with every animation related to the word victory and 1st Place.


    [Congratulations, host.] his system had told him as he stood atop his car, ready to raise his arms in victory.


    One of the most enjoyable aspects of his victory¡ªthe part that made Luca savor it even more¡ªwas the fact that the race had technically not ended yet. All the other drivers had yet to cross the finish line to determine the final positions.


    And until the moment he stood upon his Dallara, facing the home straight, not a single driver excluding him had yet crossed the finish line.


    That spoke volumes about the gap he had created between himself, Max Addams, and the rest during the closing laps.


    One by one, they all rolled down the straight to the final grid, weighed down by the exhaustion of two long hours.


    There was no greater disappointment, no greater frustration and envy, than seeing Luca in the distance beyond the grid already on his car, arms raised high, soaking in the roaring chaos of celebration, while they were only just arriving.


    "...Max Addams termina in P2...!" was the major announcement, one of the many things that made Luca smile in bed whenever he dreamt of that evening on November 28th.


    "...Albert Derstappen ¨¨ in P3 e Sean Aaronson arriva in P4, Oliver Kristensen, P5....!"


    Within a minute, all the remaining drivers¡ªsome even two laps behind¡ªsped past Luca, who remained standing high atop his car, watching them roll by. The race officially concluded when P26 finally crossed the finish line and coasted to a stop.


    That moment was the unspoken signal. The celebrations could now begin.


    On the edge of the pit lane, the entire Trampos crew had been waiting, holding themselves back, their energy at its peak. The second the last driver finished, they burst forward in a stampede, sprinting toward Luca in a frenzy of joy.


    "...LUCA RENNICK IS CHAMPION IN ITALY...!"


    Luca vividly recalled the surreal rush of emotions as he glanced to his left, where Mr. Moritz, McCauley, and every single Trampos crew member were charging toward him, their mouths wide open in shouts of triumph.


    Another sudden movement to his right caught Luca''s attention, and no matter how many times he re-dreamt this moment, the shock that surged through him never dulled.


    In the distance, at Stand 86¡ªfacing the straight from Section 9, just past Turn 1¡ªan entire sea of Trampos fans, all dressed in red, erupted into chaos.


    It seemed someone had broken through the barricade, or perhaps their sheer numbers had caused it to collapse, because what unfolded next looked like an outright war stampede surging in his direction.


    Long story short, Luca never made it to his podium celebrations on time. Instead of the originally scheduled at 7 PM, he finally lifted his Formula 2 Championship trophy at late 9 PM.


    He would never forget that moment Mr. Grosjean, the F2 President, handing him his goldenware.


    There were a few more track invasions during the podium celebrations, but nothing compared to the sheer madness that unfolded right after the race.


    Luca had barely been whisked away in time by his crew, seconds before the crowd reached him. The other drivers? They had long since disappeared for they knew better than to be caught in the middle of a rival team''s celebratory invasion.


    Thanks to good enough security efforts, the FIA managed to restore Autodromo di Lombardia to a somewhat stable¡ªif still wild¡ªstate, ensuring the official ceremony could proceed.


    But Luca had his own traditions to uphold as well. And he executed them perfectly by drowning every bottle of champagne that came his way.


    -------------


    In a moment of solitude with his system, he was able to know what he had accomplished and what the next steps were.


    [Congratulations, host on becoming a champion]


    "Thanks a lot."


    [Ding!]


    [Mission Completed!]


    [Host has won his first championship.]


    [Ding!]


    [System Unlocking Activity Panel...]


    [Activity Panel Unlocked]


    [System Commencement In Progress...]


    [System Activity Commenced!]


    [Do you accept Professional Bundle?]


    [Y / N]


    Luca smiled, staring at the word "Professional." He remembered when this stage of this endeavour seemed very far and out of reach. But here he was, about to be under a new administration.


    "Yes. I accept."


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [ANALYZING DATA AND ATTRIBUTES...]


    [Welcome.]


    "Cheers! A very warm welcome!"


    [Congratulations! The Professional Bundle will now be embedded into your Activity!]


    Luca took a deep breath. "So, what''s it all about?"


    [The Professional Bundle is the fourth attainable bundle that marks the beginning of the general focus on both the host and the machine he drives.]


    "Both me and the car?"


    [Correct. The Professional Bundle emphasizes the core relationship between the host and the car when synchronized.]


    The words pulsed on the interface before expanding into more details.


    [Unlike previous bundles that focused solely on driver optimization, the Professional Bundle introduces car progression. The vehicle is no longer just an instrument, it now evolves alongside its driver.]


    "I predicted this," Luca said. "So my car¡ªany car I drive¡ªcan improve? Not just through mechanics and upgrades, but through me?"


    [Affirmative. The Professional Bundle enables the following advancements:]


    [Car Leveling System ¨C The car now has a performance-based leveling system. The more host pushes it to its limits, the more it adapts and enhances itself over time.


    Engine Evolution ¨C The engine isn''t static anymore. Wear and efficiency rates shift dynamically, power bands optimize in real-time, and new performance thresholds can be unlocked, taking it from whatever inferior level to SSS-level.


    Synchronization Boost ¨C Driver and machine connection deepens. Latency between host''s reactions and the car''s response is minimized, allowing for near-instantaneous execution of movements.


    Performance Conditioning ¨C A revised training and dietary system tailored to keep host at his peak, ensuring he can handle the car''s and the competition''s evolving demands.]


    "Wow."


    [New System Interface now available! New features include Car Attributes and Skills.]


    Luca raised an eyebrow. "Car Skills?"


    [Yes, host.]


    [Some Driver Skills have close correlations with Car Skills, leading to potential duplications. In such cases, the system will automatically optimize to ensure efficiency.]


    Luca exhaled. "I... don''t really know what that means."


    [The most important update: The Professional Bundle has unlocked three new Skills.]


    Ding!


    [You have unlocked three new Skills:]


    ¡ª Gripper: 5


    ¡ª Flash Pit: 5


    ¡ª Slipstream Synergy: 5 Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ding!


    [System has detected skill overlap.]


    ¡ª Flash Pit ¡ú Converted to Pitstop Prodigy


    ¡ª Slipstream Synergy ¡ú Converted to Slipstream Mastery


    [Optimizing...]


    [Optimization successful.]


    Ding!


    [You have gained EXP:]


    ¡ª Pitstop Prodigy +10


    ¡ª Slipstream Mastery +10


    Luca stared at the interface, his mind spinning.


    How did he just take Pitstop Prodigy from 13 to 20 (+3)?! And Slipstream Mastery from 8 to 18 in a second''s breath?!


    Luca just began to realize that the system wasn''t just about his driving anymore, but the car itself¡ªwhichever it was¡ªwas evolving with him.


    "What''s Gripper?"


    [Gripper allows the host to achieve superior traction and tire control, ensuring maximum grip on various track surfaces and weather conditions.]


    [This skill enhances stability during high-speed cornering, reduces wheel spin under acceleration, and improves braking efficiency, allowing for smoother and more controlled handling in all racing scenarios depending on the value.]


    "Thank goodness. I''ve always prayed for this!" Luca exclaimed. "And how good is this starting (5)?"


    [Just as how good Self Skills starting (2) is, host!]


    "Okay. So the higher the value, the better the traction of whatever car I use?"


    [Yes, host.]


    "Anything else to Professional Bundle?"


    [These are the main features. If there are any further questions now or in the future, the system is ready to answer.]


    Luca hummed thoughtfully. He still hadn''t 100% digested the main information, talkless of having questions. So, he permitted the system to proceed.


    [REANALYZING DAILY ROUTINE...]


    [DAILY ROUTINE WOULD COMMENCE OFFICIALLY SUNDAY MORNING¡ª5 AM]


    [Revising Dietary requirements...]


    [.... successfully revised.]


    [Do you want to see your new diet list now?]


    [Y/N]


    "I''ll check it out later, don''t worry."


    [Waiting for notification....]


    [Ding!]


    [Advanced Mission has been Issued!]


    [-¡¤-WIN FIVE FORMULA 1 MAIN EVENT RACES-¡¤-]


    "Ooooooohhhh."


    That looked like a very big jump for Luca. How was the system even certain he''d be signed during this break?


    Even the system knew that going through another year of Formula 2 would be anything but thrilling, so this mission¡ªin order for Luca to attain the Top Driver Bundle¡ªwas designed to compel him and ensure he made it to Formula 1 next season.


    "Mallow and I are on it!" Luca said with a salute to the system. "I''ll soon agree on personal terms with Outback."


    "For now, celebrations are still ongoing."


    "And one more thing: show me my status, everything, and also give me the detailed progress I had throughout this year!"


    [Certainly, host!]


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Personal Information:


    Name: Luca Rennick


    Age: 19


    Nationality: Italian ]


    --------------------------------------


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 74 kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 33%


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    Strength: 29


    Stamina: 32


    Endurance: 30


    Agility: 28


    Intelligence: 29 ]


    ----------------------------------------


    [Personal Stats:


    Nickname: None


    Status: 6 year contract


    Salary: $636,000


    Team: Trampos Racing


    Race Win: 5


    Podium Finishes: 7


    Pole Positions: 2


    Championships: 1 ]


    ----------------------------------------


    [Skills & Techniques: A


    Reflexes: 20 (+4)


    Overtaking Skill: 20 (+6)


    Track Awareness: 20 (+3)


    Pitstop Prodigy: 20 (+3)


    Corner Chopping: 14


    Straightaway Chopping:8


    Spatial Awareness : 7


    Night Mastery: 4


    Grid Launch: 10


    Slipstream Mastery: 18


    Side-by-Side King: 8


    Slipsense & Rainborne: 3]


    Others (Locked) ]


    ---------------------------


    "This is really solid growth. I remember when I was disappointed my Strength Attribute started at 2. And stamina? Stamina started at 1!"


    [Calculating progress....]


    [... successfully calculated]


    [Attributes growth:


    ¡ªStrength: 1350% increase


    ¡ªStamina: 3100% increase


    ¡ªEndurance: 500% increase


    ¡ªAgility: 1300% increase


    ¡ªIntelligence: 480% increase ]


    [Remark: Significant physical transformation, especially in Strength and Stamina, which saw over 1,000% increases.]


    [Career Progress:


    ¡ªSecured a contract


    ¡ª+$636,000 salary


    ¡ª5 Race Wins, 7 Podiums and 1 Championship Trophy]


    [Remark: Went from a nobody to a contracted racer with a significant salary and your first championship title.]


    [Skills Progress:


    ¡ªOvertaking Skill: 100% increase


    ¡ªReflexes: 300% increase


    ¡ªTrack Awareness: 100% increase


    ¡ª9 NEW Skills!]


    [Remark: ? Massive improvements in Reflexes, Overtaking, and Track Awareness, all doubling or tripling.


    ? Unlocked 9+ new skills, showcasing your growth into a complete driver.


    ? Overall grading jumped from "F" to "A," a huge leap in competence.]


    [Final Assessment: Exceptional]


    That was the word Ansel told him he had to be in order to make it to Formula 1. And now, his system had just described his growth this season as exactly that.


    Formula 1 wasn''t a dream anymore. It was the next step.


    The system had given him the tools, but he had done the work. And if he had come this far in one season, then what lay ahead? How much further could he push himself?


    A slow breath left his lips as the weight of his own ambition settled over him.


    There was no more if. It was when.


    Luca Rennick was going to Formula 1.

 Chapter 240 Touché, Finally

    "En garde!"


    Luca''s feet sank deep with focus into the red rug below him and Adrian as they got ready for another round of fencing.


    He adjusted his grip, rolling his wrist to test the balance of his own blade while keeping his stance firmly in place. He was no fencer, but he knew the aim was to stick the other with the tip of the thin blade.


    "You''re too confident. I will win against you this time," Luca said behind his mask.


    "That''s what you said some minutes ago. And Friday too," Adrian replied mockingly. "Reflexes here are a different kind than the ones you have for the track."


    Luca didn''t reply; he just watched Adrian lower his mask, ready to defeat him again.


    Two weeks after the finale in Monza, Luca had begun searching for recreational activities to keep him engaged with life and not end up the victim of one of Karl Marx''s quotes. Find more chapters on My Virtual Library Empire


    Adrian introduced him to fencing, and fencing looked really cool, so Luca hopped on the train, just to find out Adrian was basically a professional at it.


    This was an advantage, though. Learning from a good fencer would make one a good fencer.


    In Luca''s case, he needed to land at least one stab on Adrian for him to consider himself a fencer. Right now, he was just a fellow wearing a white sophisticated suit.


    The moment Adrian took the first step forward, Luca lunged, trying to catch him off guard. But Adrian sidestepped like he had all the time in the world, his blade flicking out with a tap against Luca''s shoulder.


    "Point," Adrian announced casually.


    Luca exhaled sharply, resetting his stance.


    Going again, he refused to let Adrian''s confidence in his perfection rattle his amateurism.


    This time, he feinted left before sweeping his blade in a diagonal strike, which was illegal in fencing but surely unexpected enough to land a hit¡ªat least one hit.


    Adrian, however, just laughed and effortlessly twisted away, his blade snapping out to touch Luca''s chest.


    "Did you really just try to slash me?" Adrian chuckled, stepping back. "This isn''t a sword fight, Luca. Stick to the rules. It hasn''t been a month since you began training here. It''ll take time."


    Luca rubbed the tip of the blade, wondering how dangerous it was and to what extent it could injure a person. "If this were a real duel, you''d be missing a limb by now," he said.


    "And yet, here we are, with me still undefeated." Adrian flicked his blade playfully. "Come on, champion. Again."


    Luca promised himself that today''s session wouldn''t be over until he landed one hit.


    They reset their stances, foils raised, bodies poised. The red rug muffled their quick, calculated footwork as Adrian advanced with precise, effortless movements.


    Luca did his best to mirror him, trying to anticipate the next strike, but Adrian was too fluid, too experienced, as if he were a professional fencer in the first place.


    Adrian parried easily every time Luca lunged, evading with a grace that made it seem like he wasn''t even trying. Luca pushed harder, adjusting his rhythm, searching for an opening.


    But it was always going to be a repeated pattern of attack, evade, counter¡ªuntil he would feel the familiar tap of Adrian''s blade against his shoulder, chest, arm.


    Point after point.


    "You''re too good."


    "No, don''t have that perspective. Have this: I''m still a newbie," Adrian replied. "How does that sound now?"


    Luca shrugged, rolling his shoulders as they reset their stances again.


    They raised their foils, ready to engage, when the door creaked open, and a small figure waddled in.


    It was Harry, little Spot.


    Adrian''s little brother, barely past Luca''s waist, stood in the doorway, his tiny hands clutching a toy sword far too big for him.


    Luca and Adrian looked in his direction.


    Harry waved his plastic weapon excitedly, silently telling them he wanted to join.


    Luca seized the moment.


    Without hesitation, he lunged, his foil slipping past Adrian''s defenses for the first time all day¡ªfor the first time ever! The tip landed clean against Adrian''s torso.


    Adrian blinked, then looked down at where he had been struck. Slowly, his head lifted, meeting Luca''s gaze through the mask.


    "...Did you just hit me?"


    Luca stepped back triumphantly, raising his foil. "Point for me," he said with exasperation. This was literally victory for Luca.


    Harry cheered, waving his toy sword like he had just witnessed some legendary duel.


    Adrian exhaled, shaking his head with a laugh. "Cheap shot. But fine. You got your hit."


    "Gracias," Luca replied, bowing dramatically. He then turned his attention to Harry again. "You guys are back?"


    "Yes," Adrian answered for his little brother, who, as always, remained quiet.


    Adrian stepped toward the window, parting the curtains just enough to confirm what he had suspected. A polished car had pulled into the mansion''s courtyard, joining the other exquisite vehicles parked there.


    Their mother, Mrs. Hawthorne, had returned from her outing with Harry and their sister, Charlotte.


    Luca hadn''t come to the Hawthorne mansion just to fence. He was here because Mrs. Hawthorne had personally invited him over, wanting to congratulate him face-to-face.


    This was the first time she would see him since his victory in Monza, and she insisted that such a moment warranted an in-person celebration.


    And yes, Luca was currently in London. He had been here for six days now¡ªalmost a week¡ªafter the finale that ended the entire season: the Formula 1 Italian Mega Prix, where Marcellus Rodnick walked out victorious, winning the F1 championship over his rivals for the second year in a row.


    Everyone would soon be in the UK because the FIA Prize Giving Gala was just around the corner, and it would be held in London.


    Additionally, the Federation made a statement that next season''s overhaul and changes would be announced at the gala. So, this year''s attendance would definitely be high.


    Luca removed his mask and hung it on a nail on the wall, also carefully replacing his foil. Still in their suits, he then followed Adrian out of the room, taking Harry along.


    Mrs. Hawthorne''s main mansion¡ªthe one for the family living¡ªwas very big and grandiose, having more aesthetic appeal and a sense of warmth than her other mansions.


    Luca was starting to know his way around, but that was because he only had a few routes in the massive place.


    Routes like the main living room to the upper living room, the fencing room Adrian arranged, the dining hall, the study where Mrs. Hawthorne often entertained guests, the billiard room where Adrian sometimes played with his brother, and the glass-roofed indoor garden that connected to the rear courtyard.


    That was like 15% of the house.


    They arrived at the living room, and Mrs. Hawthorne was just settling into a sofa with one of her friends she had brought along, her security slowly dispersing to leave.


    "Oh! There you are, Luca!" Mrs. Hawthorne exclaimed, pausing halfway through her sitting. "Champion of Formula 2! Come on, come on."


    She opened her arms, and Luca stepped forward like a stick before she embraced him in a hug.


    Pulling back, she placed both hands on his shoulders and smiled. "I watched the race live, of course. Absolutely marvelous. I knew you''d do well, but this? A championship? Trampos Racing must be ecstatic."


    Luca chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "They are¡­ I guess."


    Mrs. Hawthorne gestured to the woman seated beside her. "This is Evelyn Beaufort, a friend of mine," she said. "I don''t know if you remember her from the day we met in Monaco?"


    Luca quickly remembered the woman, although she had a lot of makeup now. She was the one spinning her drink with her index finger back then.


    "She says she''s slowly getting intrigued by motorsport. We''ve been discussing it all month."


    Luca extended a polite hand, which the woman shook with a knowing smile. "A pleasure, Luca. I must say, your performance in Monza was impressive. You have a sharp racing mind," Evelyn said. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Thank you, Mrs. Beaufort," Luca replied, glancing between her and Mrs. Hawthorne. "I appreciate it."


    Mrs. Hawthorne called for Adrian and asked him to bring two bottles of wine since there were no servants currently around.


    Adrian returned moments later, carrying four elegant glass cups and two pristine bottles. He set them neatly on the coffee table, pouring generous amounts before taking a seat beside Luca.


    As they settled in, Charlotte passed by, likely heading to her room after a long day.


    Mrs. Hawthorne''s eyes lit up, and she called out to her daughter. Charlotte stopped in her tracks, turning back with a neutral expression. Then, Mrs. Hawthorne turned to Luca with an almost casual air.


    "Would you take my daughter Charlotte''s hand in marriage if I offered her to you?"


    Kuh¡ª!


    What the¡ª?! Luca choked on his drink.


    Luca''s gaze darted around the room. Adrian and Evelyn were already laughing, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. He set his glass down, regaining composure. "Pardon?" he asked, even though he had heard her perfectly.


    Mrs. Hawthorne leaned back gracefully against the arm of the sofa, swirling the deep red liquid in her glass. "I see a good pairing. And it would be a way to solidify our relationship into something unbreakable for the future."


    Luca blinked. Was this really happening? He knew the wealthy often arranged marriages like business deals, but he never expected to be on the receiving end of such a proposal.


    Mrs. Hawthorne, noticing his stunned silence, turned to Charlotte. "Charlotte, would you like to wed Luca?"


    Charlotte answered without hesitation. "Yes, Mother."


    Luca''s brain short-circuited.


    What?!


    Mrs. Hawthorne carried on as if she hadn''t just thrown an anvil onto his lap. "You see, Luca, we''re about to finalize a seven-year deal. We''re all in agreement. And don''t you think something as long-term as this should be¡­ eternal?"


    Luca flicked his gaze to Adrian, silently pleading for help, but Adrian¡ªof all times¡ªchose to find this amusing.


    "Marriage? Ma, she''s what? Twelve?"


    Mrs. Hawthorne smiled, pleased. "Good guess. She is twelve, and you''re nineteen. A perfect seven-year gap for a healthy marriage."


    Luca choked again. "Ma¡ª"


    "Obviously, this isn''t happening now. Consider it a future project for our future together," she interjected smoothly, as if she were discussing an investment portfolio.


    Luca exhaled, setting his glass down carefully before rubbing his eyes. "With all due respect, ma, I already have someone else I''m interested in," he said. He risked a glance at Charlotte, curious about her reaction. She seemed indifferent, her expression unchanged.


    A brief silence fell over the room. Mrs. Hawthorne actually looked surprised, her eyebrows slightly raised. "Oh? And who might that be?"


    "I doubt you''d know her, ma. But she''s a good woman," Luca said firmly. "Charlotte is a beautiful girl, meant for a calm prince. Not a rough Formula driver."


    Mrs. Hawthorne scoffed, taking a sip of her drink. "I highly doubt she''s more beautiful than my daughter," she murmured to Evelyn. Then, she turned to Charlotte. "You may go. The first proposing rejection is never the last."


    Luca wondered what that was supposed to mean.


    Charlotte left without a word, and he let out a long sigh, rubbing his temple. He redirected the conversation.


    "I''ve agreed personal terms with Outback Performance over Iberia," he announced, shifting the topic. "But there are rumors that Nevada and Nordvind might make late moves."


    Evelyn perked up. "Nordvind is the likelier option, correct?"


    "Statistically, yes," Luca nodded. "But Nevada HanSama is currently lacking prodigies. So if those rumors are true, they might not be baseless."


    "But for now, everything''s in the hands of Trampos."

 Chapter 241 Blueprints for Greatness

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Host should begin Daily Routine.]


    Luca woke up at 6:00 AM in his hotel room in the heart of London, ready to follow his Professional Bundle''s Daily Routine for the day.


    He found a strange satisfaction in this structured regimen, one that might just be his reality for the foreseeable future. The system had hinted that the Top Driver Bundle wouldn''t differ much from the Professional Bundle, so this was as good as permanent.


    [6:00 HYDRATION & MORNING PRIMING: Host will get out of bed and perform light stretches to activate muscles. A full glass of water will be consumed to kickstart metabolism. Deep breathing exercises will be performed to enhance focus and mental clarity.]


    [6:30 PROFESSIONAL WORKOUT & MOBILITY TRAINING: Host will engage in a high-performance training session, including explosive HIIT circuits (Plyometric Push-Ups, Jump Squats, Mountain Climbers), strength training (Weighted Bulgarian Split Squats, Dead Hangs, Core Planks), and advanced mobility drills (dynamic stretches, yoga sequences, joint activation exercises).]


    [7:30 COOL DOWN & GROOMING: Host will perform deep stretches to alleviate muscle tension. A cold shower will be taken to enhance recovery and refresh the body.]


    [8:00 BREAKFAST & NUTRITIO: Host will consume a carefully structured meal rich in proteins, healthy fats, and complex carbohydrates. Additional hydration will be maintained with a full glass of water.]


    Luca took full advantage of the hotel''s five-star gym, pairing up with Amir, whom he was seeing for the first time since his championship victory. It was a brief but solid reunion, and they fell into their usual rhythm, pushing each other through their workouts.


    This was only Luca''s second gym session since arriving in London. The night before had been his second stay at the hotel, but prior to that, he had been sleeping at their house in Clapham.


    The only reason he booked a hotel in the first place was because Sophia hadn''t returned yet from her school''s event celebrating newly accepted candidates.


    She had finally come back two days ago, which meant Mrs. Rennick now had company. With that, Luca was free to move as he pleased, and he took the chance to check into a hotel, telling them it made communication with Mallow easier during this period of business and negotiations.


    One of the negotiations during this period would follow a different structure, and this time, Luca would be the one drafting the contract for the second party, rather than the other way around.


    Today, he was set to meet Mr. Vance to officially discuss the possibility of joining his agency and expanding it with additional staff under him.


    Luca hadn''t accepted Mr. Vance''s offer yet. He wanted to see the man in person before making his decision.


    After all, this was the same man who had once treated him like a stray dog, shoving him off to Trampos without good intentions.


    Trampos had turned out to be a good path for him, but that wasn''t the point, it was the fact that Mr. Vance had expected it to be a disaster and still sent him there regardless. That made all the difference.


    People change, but Luca knew that men like Mr. Schafer and Mr. Vance rarely did. He would find out for sure today.


    [Good job, Host. You can now proceed to the next phase of your Daily Routine. Your time in the gym today is over.]


    Luca waved Amir goodbye and returned to his hotel room.


    His phone rang. Mallow''s name flashed on the caller ID.


    Luca answered, and Mallow informed him that he was approaching the hotel and would be waiting at the back open area which was the same spot they had previously arranged.


    Luca nodded, ended the call, and resumed his morning.


    He went into the shower, letting the cool water soothe his body before stepping out to apply his usual skincare routine which was a habit he maintained since dealing with the freckles he had then.


    As he finished up, his meal arrived, and he ate quickly without lingering. Once done, he dressed in a plain shirt and dark, relaxed pants, then grabbed his phone before making his way out to join Mallow.


    Surprisingly, the back open area was quiet and empty. The deck chairs were neatly arranged around round plastic tables, all unoccupied. At the center, a rectangular swimming pool stretched out like a serene blue oasis, carved into the greenery beneath the chairs, giving the space a paradise-like feel. Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire


    Seated at one of the tables was a figure dressed in indigo black. It was Mallow. He was too busy flirting with one of the hotel''s female staff to even notice Luca approaching.


    Scanning the area, Luca didn''t see Mr. Vance anywhere, and a sense of unease settled in. He walked over to Mallow and took the seat across from him.


    "Oh, Luca," Mallow said, offering the young woman a casual wave. "I didn''t even see you coming."


    Luca settled into his chair, eyeing him with amusement. "You flirt way too much for a man who isn''t even a 10/10."


    Mallow burst into laughter, nodding in agreement. "Fair point. But I wasn''t flirting alone, y''know, the fine lady''s bringing us drinks," he said, gesturing toward the woman in white approaching with a small tray of cups and beverages.


    She reached their table and smoothly set the drinks down, offering a polite smile to Mallow before turning and walking away.


    "Where''s Mr. Vance?" Luca asked, snapping Mallow out of his staring trance.


    "Vance? He said he''d get here on his own. Something about not wanting to look like a dog on a leash if he came with me," Mallow replied.


    Luca raised a brow in surprise as Mallow casually poured their drinks.


    "Pride, huh?" Mallow remarked.


    "Don''t you think he''ll have to drop that, considering he''d actually be working for me?" Luca questioned.


    Mallow shrugged and handed Luca a cup. "Trust me, I''m more troubled than you are," he admitted. "I used to work under him in Stadhaven, and if today goes well, he''ll be beneath me. And I know Vance¡ªhe''s a man who thrives on authority."


    Hmm...


    "He''ll be here in a few minutes," Mallow added, settling into his seat. "So, tell me¡ªwhat did Hawthorne have to say to you this time? Did she mention when your Jaguar will arrive?"


    "Nope, nope," Luca chuckled. "She wanted to hear from me firsthand which F1 team I''d likely go for. Apparently, she''s considering investing in whichever team I join to help however she can."


    Mallow smirked over the rim of his glass as he took a sip. "Look at you¡ªFormula 2 World Champion," he sneered.


    Luca knew he had to get used to the title, but it still felt weird. Just a month ago, that title belonged to Max Addams.


    "She''s very generous," Luca remarked, referring to Mrs. Hawthorne.


    "Yeah, she is," Mallow agreed. "Must be an old age thing. Makes people want to do generous things."


    Luca thought back to that conversation. "You wouldn''t even believe it," he said. "She actually offered me her daughter''s hand in marriage for the future."


    Kuh¡ª!


    Mallow choked on his drink, the same way Luca had when Mrs. Hawthorne had first brought it up. He stared at Luca in pure disbelief. "Are you serious?"


    "Yeah."


    "...And what did you say?"


    "I refused, of course."


    Mallow slammed his hand on the table. "ARE YOU FREAKING NUTS, LUCA?!"


    Luca blinked, stunned. "I don''t understand."


    Mallow leaned in, speaking slowly as if Luca needed help processing reality. "A royal millionaire offered you her daughter''s hand in marriage for free, and you refused?!"


    A small, unintentional smile crept onto Luca''s face. "Wait... you actually think I should''ve accepted?"


    "Damn right, I do."


    Luca shook his head. "I''m just starting my career, man. Marriage is the last thing anyone should be talking about around me."


    Mallow exhaled loudly, sipping his drink with exaggerated disappointment.


    "Besides," Luca mumbled, hoping Mallow wouldn''t catch it, "there''s someone else." Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mallow''s eyes narrowed. "And who the fuck would that be?"


    "Isabella."


    "Isabella...?"


    "You know, Mr. Schafer''s daughter," Luca clarified.


    Mallow hummed in thought, still visibly bitter. "I had no idea you were sneaking around behind my back."


    Luca was grateful that Sara had never mentioned Isabella to Mallow.


    To Mallow, Isabella seemed fine, but if he were in Luca''s shoes, he wouldn''t have hesitated to accept Mrs. Hawthorne''s proposal. The wealth, the connections, the generational bond. It was all an opportunity most wouldn''t even dream of passing up.


    "You do know that the most successful marriages are often the arranged ones?" Mallow remarked. "Both people go in with the expectation of making it work. No foolish ideas about ''finding the one'' or chasing some perfect romance."


    Luca watched as Mallow continued his rant.


    "...Maybe that''s why my marriage failed," Mallow admitted, exhaling deeply, his voice laced with regret. "I was searching for love instead of understanding what marriage really meant." He leaned back, shaking his head. "Trust me, you''d be far better off with Hawthorne''s daughter than with Mr. Schafer''s."


    Luca took a slow sip of his drink. "You''re divorced, aren''t you?" he asked, stating the obvious. "Doesn''t that mean... you failed in marriage?"


    "...Not really," Mallow muttered, though his tone suggested otherwise.


    Luca tilted his head. "So, don''t you think if I ever need marriage advice, it should come from someone who''s been successfully married for, say, twenty-five years?"


    Mallow nodded, chuckling in defeat. "You make a good point. You really do."


    They sat in silence, draining the bottle halfway before Mr. Vance finally arrived.


    He was dressed in an unbuttoned navy suit without a tie, his hair rough and unruly as he approached their table.


    Luca stood up from his seat and offered a handshake. The objective was to set aside past differences and evaluate Mr. Vance with neutrality, seeking a possible future built on progress and prosperity.


    There were many agents in the free market, but Luca was considering Mr. Vance solely because both Mallow and Sara knew him. This familiarity would make everything work out easily and smoothly with no difficulties in communication and prevent any sort of unnecessary friction.


    "You left my umbrella as a mere candidate at Grey-Husson''s," Mr. Vance said, shaking Luca''s hand without breaking eye contact. "And now, I come to meet you as the world champion of the Formula 2 division. Congratulations, Luca."


    Luca offered a brief smile. "Thanks," he replied, motioning for everyone to take their seats.


    It was time to talk, it was time to gauge Mr. Vance''s true intentions and the strategies he had to elevate Luca''s driver persona in the sport.


    A good plan wouldn''t be enough. Anyone could put together something that sounded substantial.


    Exceptional was the only standard that mattered.

 Chapter 242 Chill Of Winter

    The entirety of motorsport action for the season had concluded, and all that was left was the Prize Giving Gala, which was fast approaching, beckoning upon them so swiftly that the UK had noticed a subtle spike in the influx of tourists, even though track action had ended for the year.


    Another season ended with the champions of the top two divisions being Marcellus Rodnick of Jackson Racing for Formula 1 and Luca Rennick of Trampos Racing for Formula 2.


    After the F2 finale on November 28th, the Formula 2 Driver''s Standings had finished with this structure:


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -----------------------------------


    1. | Luca Rennick | 178


    2. | Max Addams | 173


    3. | Sean Aaronson | 156


    4. | Miles Bellingham | 146


    5. | Ansel Hahn | 115


    A five-point difference between first place and second place could only explain nothing but the fierce competition that had occurred throughout the season. It was a tough one, but Luca had managed to gain the upper hand in the French Grand Prix and the finale in Monza.


    Ansel''s finish in fifth place, despite being absent for the rest of the season since August, only meant he might have been destined to win the F2 Championship this season.


    Derstappen, however, finished with 113 points, just two points away from fifth place which was a big drop in performance compared to what he was known for.


    The Formula 2 Teams'' Standings ended this way:


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -------------------------------------


    1. | Trampos Racing | 302


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. | 256


    3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 251


    4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 193


    5. | Retona Racing | 104


    Trampos clinched their first-ever F2 Constructors'' Championship, overthrowing the reigning champions, Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr, with a definitive victory that they cemented right from the start of the season until the end.


    On the night of the gala, they would be celebrated¡ªespecially the Team Principals, who were responsible for everything.


    Unlike in F2, where the reigning champions were dethroned, in F1, Jackson Racing successfully defended their title, including Marcellus Rodnick, who remained F1 champion!


    Luca found the F1 finale even more thrilling than the F2 finale, though in reality, it wasn''t. His perspective came from being a spectator this time around, and witnessing another pack of drivers display the same urgency and will for victory was mind-blowing.


    The F1 Teams'' Standings concluded as follows, with Jackson Racing winning the championship again and Squadra Corse coming so close that they must have tasted a glimmer of the trophy.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -------------------------------------------


    1. | Jackson Racing | 411


    2. | Squadra Corse | 402


    3. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ | 350


    4. | Haddock Racing | 264


    5. | Nevada HanSama | 203


    A season to improve upon for Nevada HanSama, who finished in P5. They had dropped below Haddock Racing, who overtook them since the Qatari Grand Prix, and from that moment, they managed to hold onto fifth place against Nordvind.


    The Drivers'' Standings was the most intense, with many big names scattered across positions 1¨C10, making it clear that the grading system in F1 is more substantial than in F2. In F1, finishing seventh wasn''t really bad at all.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.


    Position | Team | Points


    -----------------------------------


    1. | Marcellus Rodnick | 325


    2. | Antonio Luigi | 292


    3. | Davide DiMarco | 210


    4. | Ailbeart Moireach | 185


    5. | Hank Rice | 165


    It didn''t matter now because all the glory would go to first place, both for teams and drivers.


    Additional awards would be handed out at the Gala, recognizing those who had executed outstanding feats throughout the season. Whether it was on the track, where skill and bravery reigned, or off it, where influence and character left a mark.


    For example, there would definitely be an award for the driver who set the single fastest lap across all races that year. And in this case, everyone knew it was Luca¡ªfor both F1 and F2! Incredible!


    The Spanish Grand Prix, where he sped like a primal beast at P1, creating a massive gap between himself and P2. A gap far larger than the one in Monza. And in one of those laps, he had pushed his B-level SomberCore to an extent that A-level engines like the Rotterbad and ThunderKat could never reach this season.


    There would also be an award for the driver who secured the most pole positions during qualifying sessions. An award for most positions gained in a race. An award for Overtake of the Year. And an award for Defensive Masterclass etc.


    There were numerous awards¡ªalmost twenty to thirty in total¡ªcovering all feeder series divisions. The FIA wouldn''t go out of its way to host separate award ceremonies for each category.


    Instead, all divisions fell under the umbrella of this grand event. If an F3 driver managed to win something, he would be recognized, but that was highly unlikely.


    Even for F2 drivers, getting called on stage to receive a trophy was rare. The night revolved around Formula 1, where the experience, superior engines, and advanced chassis set a different standard entirely.


    How could an F3 driver possibly win something like the Best Race Start Award or the Pit Stop Excellence Award with a crew that could barely match the speed and precision of F1 mechanics?


    Luca, however, had his sights set on more than just attending. He hoped to leave The Dorchester, where the ceremony would be hosted, with more than one award in hand.


    Apart from the Fastest Lap of the Year Award, he had identified a few other categories where he stood a genuine chance of winning, even against F1 drivers.


    From the French Grand Prix, he knew he had a strong shot at Comeback Drive of the Season, thanks to his P20 to P1 charge. And there was also the Best Wet Weather Performance, where he showed the rain-soaked track he was made of iron and steel.


    The Prize Giving Gala would be held at The Dorchester, one of London''s most prestigious and historic luxury hotels. Located in Mayfair along Park Lane, it stood as an unaging insignia of elegance, hosting world-class events for decades.


    Set for the evening of December 12th, 7:30 PM GMT, the ceremony marked the official conclusion of the motorsport season, a night where champions were crowned and excellence across all divisions was recognized.


    Luca let out a sharp exhale as he stared at himself in the mirror.


    I really liked that mustache, he thought, almost instantly regretting shaving.


    He sighed, setting the razor down on the sink before running his fingers over his now smooth upper lip. His mustache hadn''t been thick, but it was finally starting to become noticeable, along with the faint, growing goatee beneath his chin. And now, it was all gone.


    He exhaled sharply again, pushing back the small pang of regret. Formula drivers were expected to keep their faces clean-shaven, and he wasn''t about to be the one to break tradition.


    Still, it stung a little because after years of hoping for facial hair, he was now shaving it off like it didn''t matter, as if he could easily grow it back.


    Luca turned on the tap and splashed cold water onto his face, rinsing away any stray hairs. He then grabbed a towel, patted his skin dry, and rubbed along his jawline one last time before tossing the towel aside. Explore hidden tales at My Virtual Library Empire Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He moved to the bedroom of the hotel room to get dressed for the evening.


    Today was December 12th, and it was late 5 PM, the chill of winter already settling in.

 Chapter 243 S1 Prize Giving Gala

    As the sun set over London, guests began flowing into the venue in their finest suits and most beautiful gowns, stepping out of lustrous supercars and limousines.


    Luca really wished he had the Jaguar with him for this occasion because it would have been perfect to arrive in.


    Mrs. Hawthorne had promised it would be brand new, fresh in the leather for him to tear into, and that it would arrive this December. Since today was the 12th¡ªthe only remarkable day until Christmas on the 25th¡ªLuca could only guess he''d be receiving it as a Christmas gift.


    Legends, rising stars, and key figures from across the world poured into The Dorchester for the red carpet. Luca arrived with his family¡ªboth his mother and sister¡ªand made his way onto the red carpet, walking right behind De Klerk.


    "Give us a big smile!" one of the photographers called out without hesitation as soon as Luca stepped onto the red carpet.


    The flashing lights from the cameras immediately engulfed him, making it nearly impossible to see who was even speaking to him.


    "Turn slightly¡ªyes, just like that! Perfect!"


    "One more! Look towards the lights¡ªyes, right there!"


    Luca walked past the lights and onto the next booth, where an interviewer was waiting. She was quick but made sure to commend his suit before beginning.


    "Next season is less than four months away, Luca. Do you see yourself becoming an F1 driver within that time?"


    Luca answered simply and flatly, knowing how important it was to keep the media from twisting his words into exaggerated headlines. "We''ll see how things go."


    The interviewer, expecting more, hesitated for a moment before asking her next question which was supposed to come out perfectly if he had answered the previous positively.


    "And if you do make it, what will be your goal?"


    "To be Formula 1 World Champion, of course."


    "For just a season? Surely, you''d be aiming for more..."


    Luca glanced at her. "What''s the record?" Though he already knew the answer, he wanted to hear it from her.


    "Seven World Championships¡ªheld by the late Silvio Maldonado," she replied.


    "Then I''d like to surpass that and set a new record, I guess," he said humbly. That is everyone''s dream.


    With that, he accepted her handshake, offering a polite nod before turning away. He strode off to join Mrs. Rennick and Sophia, making his way toward the grand ballroom, where the guests were beginning to take their seats.


    They searched for the perfect seats in the vast expanse of rows and columns.


    The seating arrangement in the ballroom was very large, its sheer scale staggering when one calmly takes a good look around. After all, there were hundreds of guests attending what was going to be a crossover, so its large scale was understandable.


    Round tables filled the place as expected of any event, and at the very front, a long elevated table was reserved for the FIA executives, racing legends, and key figures in motorsport.


    Luca didn''t need to search any further because beyond the elevated table were the first few rows specifically housed for the season''s champions and their families which meant Luca''s and Rodnick''s families would sit alongside high-ranking team principals, and influential sponsors of the federation.


    Luca fought away the thought that he and his family might seem out of place. Carefully, he led them to one of the tables, but before he could pull out the seats for his mother and Sophia, his eyes quickly caught a familiar figure in the room.


    Mr. Grant!


    Luca was delighted to see him. He had just realized that Mr. Grant was supposed to be present tonight, after all, he was set to receive a medal alongside Ms. Vallotton and either Mr. Ruben or Mr. Colt of Mr. Ruben was absent.


    Luca wondered if Ms. Vallotton was already in the ballroom as well.


    Turning to his mother, he told her he was going to see Mr. Grant and would bring him over to introduce everyone.


    Luca walked across the ballroom, weaving through the growing cluster. He passed elegantly dressed guests who were already engaged in conversation, but abruptly paused when he passed them.


    As he approached Mr. Grant, he noticed he was discussing with another team principal, but of a Formula 1 team¡ªthe team principal of Haddock Racing.


    Luca''s pace quickened slightly and Mr. Grant noticed a figure approaching his peripheral vision so he glanced to his right to see Luca approaching.


    A hint of surprise flashed across his face before a smile took its place. "Luca! I was wondering when I''d run into you."


    Luca finally approached, grinning from ear to ear. "I just realized you''d be here. It''s great to see you, sir!" He saluted.


    Mr. Grant chuckled. "Likewise," he said warmly, resisting the impulse to pull Luca into a hug. Instead, he turned slightly and gestured to the man standing beside him. He was a broad-shouldered, well-dressed figure with a firm stance.


    "This is Mr. Bujas, Team Principal of Haddock Racing," Mr. Grant introduced. "And Mr. Bujas, this is Luca Rennick, Formula 2 World Champion." Explore new worlds at My Virtual Library Empire


    Luca extended his hand, and Mr. Bujas accepted it with a strong grip. The man''s presence was as commanding as his reputation, broad-chested, slightly round, but exuding the kind of authority that came with leading a top racing team.


    He looked like Chris in Luca''s opinion. A taller, more respectable version.


    Mr. Bujas didn''t linger for long after Luca''s arrival. He simply tapped Mr. Grant softly on the shoulder before pointing at where he''d seat, then left without another word.


    Luca and Mr. Grant were left alone, and Luca remembered the other reason why he approached Mr. Grant. He glanced briefly over his shoulder toward his family. "I was actually hoping to introduce you to my mother, since you''ve seen my sister before. Would you mind coming over?" he asked Mr. Grant.


    Mr. Grant nodded. "Of course. Lead the way."


    Together, they made their way back to Luca''s table, weaving through the vast seating arrangement.


    As they neared their table, Luca''s eyes drifted to the one beside it, reserved for Marcellus Rodnick and his family. It was almost fully occupied.


    Seated there were an elderly woman, a younger woman, another young woman, a teenage boy, a man who looked to be in his early twenties, two little girls, and an infant cradled in the younger woman''s arms.


    Luca couldn''t help but wonder if this was indeed Rodnick''s family. His mind instinctively began piecing together how they might be related to the two-time F1 champion.


    His grandmother, mother, maybe his sister? Were the younger ones his nieces?


    Curious, he let his gaze sweep across the ballroom, searching for Rodnick among the sea of distinguished guests. If his family was already seated, that meant he had arrived.


    But the reigning champion was nowhere in sight, perhaps he was caught up with interviews or mingling elsewhere.


    As Luca approached his table with Mr. Grant, he felt the quiet but unmistakable attention of Rodnick''s family. Though none of them spoke, their expressions were warm, their eyes holding a certain admiration as they watched him move.


    It was clear they recognized him, and though unspoken, their acknowledgment carried a quiet respect. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca introduced Mr. Grant to his mother and his mother to Mr. Grant. Knowing they were of the same generation, he expected them to naturally see eye to eye, and in fact, they did.


    Shortly after, Ms. Vallotton arrived, searching for Mr. Grant. Someone directed her to Luca''s table, where she found them.


    Luca was delighted to see her and promptly introduced her to his mother as well.


    "Well, I suppose I should congratulate you, Mrs. Rennick," she said smoothly, clasping Mrs. Rennick''s hands in hers. "Your son is about to make quite the leap. Trampos won''t be the same without him."


    Luca, who had taken a sip of water, nearly choked.


    Mrs. Rennick was a graceful and sweet woman, so she offered a warm smile. "Oh, that''s very kind of you to say. But I do believe Trampos will be just fine. Luca''s just following any path that opens up."


    Ms. Vallotton inclined her head slightly, as if she was in agreement.


    Luca ended the conversation, escorting Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton back to their table before returning again. Now, he could finally sit and relax.


    But before he could, he stopped in his tracks when he spotted Rodnick speaking to his mother. The two were engaged in conversation, but the moment they looked up at him, Luca didn''t need to be told that he was clearly the subject of their discussion.


    Rodnick, now two-time F1 World Champion, stood beside Mrs. Rennick, who was seated. He had a hint of amusement in his eyes, his hands in his pockets.


    "We were just talking about you, Luca," Rodnick said in a deep voice that cut through the soft noise of the ballroom.


    Luca blinked and exhaled lightly, stepping forward. "I figured," he replied, shaking Rodnick''s hand firmly. "I hope it was all good things."


    "It definitely was," Rodnick said. "Congratulations on becoming F2 World Champion. Even I never had that title."


    Luca dipped his head slightly in appreciation. "Thank you. And congrats to you as well."


    Rodnick chuckled, shoving his hands back into his pockets as his shoulders bounced with the movement.


    He had deep black hair, a neatly trimmed stubble that definitely meant recent shaving, and earrings in both ears¡ªvery stylish yet far from looking feminine.


    His lean figure and striking presence made him stand out, though Luca couldn''t help but note their uncanny similarity in height.


    Rodnick''s eyes widened slightly as he suddenly remembered his manners. "Ah, right¡ªI should introduce you to my family."


    He turned toward the adjacent table where his relatives sat, all watching the exchange quietly.


    Rodnick introduced the older woman as his mother, and the younger one who had striking familiar features with him, as his twin sister and the baby as hers.


    Then the youngest lady turned out to be his girlfriend, very close with the family. The teenage boy was Rodnick''s little brother, including the two little girls who were twins as well. The older boy turned out to be his girlfriend''s brother, Rodnick''s friend as well.


    A full house in Luca''s opinion.


    Rodnick clapped Luca lightly on the back. "Now, let''s see if you survive the rest of the night without getting mobbed," he said.


    Luca chuckled as he finally settled into his seat, exhaling as if he''d just completed a lap around a circuit.


    Meeting Marcellus Rodnick, Jackson Racing''s star and a two-time F1 champion, definitely felt like the first step toward getting mobbed tonight. It was only a matter of time before the spotlight turned his way.


    And look at that front row steadily filling up with millionaires he''d never seen before in his life. These were powerful figures whose firms and companies bankrolled the FIA, sponsoring the FIA with their respective firms and companies. Their wealth was staggering, completely beyond comprehension.


    Letting his blood circulation settle, Luca glanced at Sophia, who was lost in her phone, while his mother continued taking in the grand spectacle of the evening.


    Then, his eyes wandered to the stage, where a table draped in black cloth stood at the far right. Beneath the fabric, the distinct bulges of the awards were barely concealed, and he guessed they''d be around twenty in number.


    To busy himself as the place filled to capacity, Luca recalled again every single award to be given and gauged his chances of leaving the event with more than one.

 Chapter 244 S1 Prize Giving Gala. 2

    The opening ceremony and welcoming speech took place from 8:00 PM to 8:40 PM, where the FIA President and two other high-ranking officials took the stage to welcome the attendees.


    After that, a short montage video showcased the highlights of the season across all racing divisions. These highlights included spectacular overtakes and the most lethal crashes.


    Luca''s crash in Riyadh was displayed, and he found it amusing. Even Max''s crash in Barcelona and the most recent one in Le Castellet were highlighted, as if to haunt him further, reminding him of what could''ve been the races he needed to win in order to top the Standings forever.


    Most of the clips were sourced from the F1 season, showcasing a professional display of formula racing and a huge difference in the efficiency of their cars.


    After that came the dinner service. A great multi-course meal was served to everyone as a certain lady on stage performed a somber live melody. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Just like at the farewell event in France, Sophia complained that she couldn''t eat any more because of how tightly her dress cinched around her torso.


    This left her with nothing to do, as pulling out her phone during dinner was out of the question. With no other way to pass the time, she resorted to pestering Luca, repeatedly asking about the notable figures in attendance.


    It seemed she hadn''t been listening earlier because Luca had to explain¡ªagain¡ªthat F1 champion Marcellus Rodnick and his family were the ones seated at the table beside them in the front row. As for the others, he had no idea who they were.


    Gesturing was difficult in such a formal setting, especially with someone like Sophia, who never took caution in how openly she looked around.


    Still, Luca told her that Max was in the building, seated in the third row with his father and mother. So were Miles, Aaronson, Derstappen, Kristensen, and the rest, along with their respective team principals. They were all going to see him get awarded today.


    Every single F1 driver was present too. There were so many of them¡ªand so many who looked alike¡ªthat Luca lost count of those who weren''t the major names.


    Beyond those he had already mentioned, he didn''t recognize anyone else in the dim lighting. After all, this was the pinnacle of motorsport, and in a room like this, the sport wasn''t just about the drivers. It was about power, influence, and the people who controlled the future of racing.


    At 9:30 PM, the dinner service was over, and the main highlight of the night began. It was time for the awards, followed by the announcement of the new formula racing structure for the next season and more seasons to come.


    Two officials took to the stage¡ªone male, the other female. There was an early round of applause as they got ready to call out the awards to be presented to the champions and outstanding performers.


    The first award was the Formula 1 Driver''s Champion.


    A round of applause filled the large ballroom as Marcellus Rodnick left his seat with a composed expression. Even with that composure, Luca could sense a quiet satisfaction of a season well fought.


    Rodnick strode confidently to the stage, climbed the steps to the glory of the flashing cameras, shook hands with the presenters, and finally received his trophy.


    Luca joined in the applause, envisioning himself as Rodnick lifted the award high, the golden glow of the trophy reflecting across the room.


    Next came the Constructors'' Championship award, presented to Jackson Racing. The team principal, Mr. Gallagher, along with key figures from the crew, made their way to the stage, their navy-blue suits embroidered with the team''s emblem.


    Luca wondered if tonight''s event was hosted in London because Jackson Racing, an English team, had won the championship. Maybe lifting the award on home soil was like a final seal on their dominance this season, because a celebration would feel even more special on home ground.


    Then came the Formula 2 World Driver''s Championship¡ªLuca''s award.


    "You''re up next," Sophia whispered while Mrs. Rennick stared into her son''s soul with pride. "C''mon, they''re calling you."


    "Please welcome Luca Rennick."


    Luca thought he was ready for this, but his heart had begun pounding against his ribs as he pushed back his chair.


    The applause started from the 20th row and echoed to the front, and even though it was collectively loud, Luca could tell that some were not clapping.


    He left the comfort of his table, gave a nod to Rodnick before walking to the stage, the applause now growing distant. Or maybe it was because his mind was replaying everything that had happened this season.


    He had come as a young star who shattered expectations on his debut, a nineteen-year-old who had dominated an unforgiving sport, proving himself on the world stage.


    Luca ascended the steps, feeling a thousand eyes stabbing his back.


    The soles of his shoes met the stage, and he shook hands with the male presenter while the lady offered a hug.


    Luca expected the trophy to have a bit of weight, but it was surprisingly light, as if it were made from tin and foil. Regardless of its composition, it was the heaviest thing he had ever lifted in his life.


    Trampos Racing''s first-ever award would be next, so Luca made his way back to his table to give them the stage. Mr. Grant, Ms. Vallotton, and Mr. Colt would represent the whole team.


    Luca had barely settled back into his seat when they were called to the stage, a soft applause erupting for the F2 team that had ravaged the competition this season.


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    "Let me see it," Sophia urged, snatching the award from Luca''s hands.


    "Be careful," Luca said, his eyes elsewhere, watching his team principals'' eyes beam with pride as they received the award.


    Luca realized he had yet to even see Mr. Fisher, and Mr. Fisher had yet to even call for their meeting. He wondered if the negotiations with Outback might be causing some internal friction, and there was no need to even consider...


    Luca shook away his thoughts and continued clapping.


    The presenters took center stage once more, their voices carrying over the ballroom.


    "And now, moving over to the Special Recognition Awards, where we honor the standout moments and performances of the season."


    The first award in this category was the fastest lap of the year, and Luca could feel all eyes looking in his direction. This was a no-brainer because it dealt with definite figures.


    "Is this even real gold?" Luca heard Sophia whisper.


    "Spanish Grand Prix, Circuito del Barca-Raval, 1:07.842. Please, a round of applause for Luca Rennick!"


    Mrs. Rennick was shocked that Luca was being called out again. She asked him if there was anything wrong, but Luca assured her all was fine as he rose to his feet, pushing his chair back again for the second time that night.

 Chapter 245 S1 Prize Giving Gala. 3

    At the end of the Special Recognition Awards, Luca had three with him at his table, the most for any F2 driver and the most for any driver at all!


    Luca ended up winning not just the F2 Driver''s Championship award and the Fastest Lap of the Year award, but also the Best Wet Weather Performance award, which he had suspected he had a good chance of securing.


    It turned out his climb from P20 to P1 wasn''t the best comeback of the year across all seasons, as Ailbeart Moireach had executed something even more outstanding earlier in the season, earning him the award.


    However, Luca could tell he was second on that list because the presenters made a remark about how he would have left The Dorchester that night with four awards.


    Marcellus Rodnick received a second award for Most Pole Positions, one of the key boosts that helped him secure the championship.


    The Overtake of the Year award went to Marko Ignatova, Antonio Luigi''s teammate, for his stunning move against both Rodnick and Di Renzo at the British Grand Prix.


    He also had the most successful overtakes of the season, leading his own teammate in the rankings, which made Squadra Corse the most fierce F1 team on the track.


    The Consistency Award went to Hank Rice, who won two awards, with the second being the Most Positions Gained in a Race award which was an honorary award given to the driver who climbed the most spots from their starting position in a single race.


    The award ceremony continued, but Luca never once heard the name Antonio Luigi being called up. So, he isn''t that good?


    Yet again, Antonio Luigi had finished second in the championship. There was a high chance that he had come close to winning several awards¡ªmaybe placing second or third in each¡ªbut not securing any of them outright.


    Luca exhaled, sinking a little deeper into his seat. His eyes drifted to Sophia, who was amusing herself by making the awards on the table "talk" to each other like action figures.


    Then, his gaze moved to his mother''s empty chair.


    He had insisted that his mother go home early. Not because it was getting late, but because she had been crying nonstop. Thankfully, Sara was in the building and had taken her home.


    Earlier, during the ceremony, after Luca had returned with his second award, two more were announced before the presenters called out his third.


    A fresh round of applause erupted in the ballroom, but that was when Mrs. Rennick finally broke down.


    Luca had anticipated it. Ever since he returned with his second trophy, her eyes had been watery, and she kept wiping away the unshed tears, struggling to hold them back.


    But when the announcement came¡ªher son, winning his third award of the night¡ªthe emotions overwhelmed her.


    Tears of pride, yes. But also of something deeper.


    Perhaps sorrow.


    Sorrow for how drastically life had changed. How fast time had moved.


    Not too long ago, Luca was just a boy who worked himself to the bone, unable to make it further to college and taking on hard jobs to make ends meet.


    Now, he was a world champion, celebrated under the lights of a grand ballroom, surrounded by the very people he once thought were untouchable.


    Mrs. Rennick had always wanted the best for her son. But sitting there, watching him collect award after award, she couldn''t help but feel the weight of responsibility he had endured, some of which were supposed to be hers and her late husband''s. Experience new stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    And now, as much as she was proud beyond words, a part of her also knew Luca was no longer her little boy.


    Luca had felt embarrassed back then, and looking at Sophia almost spilling a glass over made him wonder why he hadn''t sent her home as well.


    Luca wished the eyes in his direction would look another way. He was far more mobbed than Rodnick had predicted, and all he could do was wait until the broadcast of the new season structure, after which he would leave.


    Many F1 drivers were already sizing him up as a potential rival should he make it into Formula 1. And many businessmen and women had begun to see him as a valuable investment, a rising star whose name was already making waves beyond Formula 2.


    At 10:30 PM, the stage was set, and the most important announcement that would change the course of racing history was about to be made.


    Luca adjusted his suit and locked his focus on the stage, forcing himself to let Sophia do as she liked.


    The ballroom, once filled with conversations of varying accents and the clinking of glasses, had now fallen into silence.


    Even the most seasoned figures in motorsport¡ªthe team principals, engineers, and veteran drivers¡ªwore expressions of quiet anticipation because they knew the weight of this.


    The presenters returned to the stage, stepping into the spotlight with a heavier presence this time.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight is not just a celebration of excellence in motorsport. Tonight marks the beginning of a new era. An era that will push the limits of engineering, challenge the greatest drivers on the planet, and redefine what it means to race at the pinnacle of speed and skill."


    A murmur rippled through the crowd. Luca had no one to murmur to.


    "We have spent years refining this sport, optimizing its machines, and expanding its reach. But now, it''s time for evolution."


    Luca leaned forward slightly. Evolution...? Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Starting next season, Formula racing will undergo its most ambitious transformation yet¡ªone that will test not only the drivers but the very foundation of the sport itself."


    The screen that had displayed the highlights lit up to help convey this information better, as everyone in the room held their breath.


    Luca was pretty sure a few already knew what the change was going to be. As long as a dork like Dan knew, then someone more refined would too. And they were probably here just for presence''s sake and for the awards.


    And then, the future of racing was unveiled as the last activity before the gala concluded.

 Chapter 246 S1 Prize Giving Gala. 4

    There were a total of fifteen detailed changes listed for the new structure, all set to be enacted as soon as possible before the new season began.


    Luca couldn''t fully comprehend what he had heard on gala night, his mind replaying the words and the impact they would have, not only on the track but beyond it, nationwide and worldwide.


    There were three major changes out of the fifteen that stood out because they were more stirring than the others.


    The first was the Seasonal Schedule Modification, where the FIA declared that the traditional race calendar would be restructured to feature more rounds and more races than ever before.


    The aim was to elevate competition to a level never seen in the sport''s history and to truly test the mental and physical limits of every driver on the grid, with the number of rounds now set to average 20 instead of 12, 13, or 14.


    That meant that each season from now on, there would be 19, 20, 21, or 22 rounds, depending on the schedule. However, 12, 13, or 14 was out of the question.


    The new structure would demand more than skill, it would demand absolute resilience.


    Every driver, from Formula 3 to Formula 1, would face an extended season spanning nearly the entire calendar year, leaving barely any breathing room between races, as there might be two or even three races in a single month.


    Luca wondered how many circuits would host all these races, which led to the next major alteration.


    Global Expansion it was called.


    The FIA wasn''t satisfied with their races every season not touching different parts and countries of the world, thereby not really giving complete essence to the title "Formula 1 or 2 World Champion."


    They explained that while Formula racing had long been regarded as a global sport, the reality was that many regions had been left out, either due to logistical challenges, financial constraints, or historical precedence favoring a select group of circuits.


    This was about to change.


    For the first time in history, every continent would host at least one Grand Prix, ensuring that the World Championship title truly reflected its name.


    Formula racing would not only be focused on Europe as it had been but would take the stage of every continent. Whether Asia or even Africa, at least one country must host a Grand Prix within that 20-average rounds.


    On the stage, they assured everyone that new circuits were already under development at chosen cities, and long-forgotten tracks were being revived to meet modern regulatory standards.


    Additionally, legendary circuits like Mandalora would receive reconstruction, enlarging its seating capacity because it was now official that the Spanish Grand Prix was one of the most spectated.


    With time, other circuits would receive expansions as well. While previously overlooked or abandoned, they were now prime candidates for the expanded calendar to fill in the rounds.


    Even though Luca was overwhelmed by the announcement, he still found it intriguing and began imagining himself racing in the heart of a continent like Africa, tackling old high-altitude circuits in South America, speeding through never-before-seen street layouts in bustling cities across Asia.


    It was going to be great! The possibilities were endless, and the sheer scale of the expansion was unlike anything the sport had attempted before.


    The FIA were practically gambling right now because if this turned out bad, it''d be a heavy blow to their status as the best sport in the world.


    Surely, with such expansion, new challenges would surface.


    Weather problems of varying climates, altitude, local regulations, cultural shifts of different countries... many challenges.


    Luca reckoned if they were going to take a huge step like this, then they must have studied the ground where their foot would stomp.


    The two changes were nothing as risky compared to the third. The third was completely toying with fate and would either elevate the sport to unimaginable heights or plunge it into chaos.


    The moment it was announced, there was a shift in the room and a drop in temperature. This was the only one that came with severe consequences far greater than losing the ranking of being the number one sport.


    At that moment, Luca began to find sense in Dan''s words back then on the yacht. And he was grateful, because it let him take in the announcement with less surprise than he was supposed to.


    The third structural alteration was termed The Unrestricted Power Era.


    Formula racing had always been about pushing the limits, but now¡ªthere would be no limit¡ªin a figurative manner.


    The FIA had decided to slightly unshackle the engines, lifting the strict efficiency regulations that had kept the monstrous power of the past under control.


    The new generation of engines would be faster, louder, and infinitely more dangerous. The new generation of engines already existed, they just had never been used due to the current regulations¡ªor rather, past regulations now.


    In essence, while widespread hybrid engines such as B-level engines¡ªlike SomberCore and Pyrocrank¡ªand A-level engines¡ªlike Warpburner of Red Bull, Rotterbad of Renault, and ThunderKat of Ferrari¡ªwould still be in use, a new tier of engines had been introduced.


    These newly approved S-level engines were significantly more advanced and costly, pushing the boundaries of what was previously permitted in Formula racing.


    They were titled High-Intensity Combustion Engines (HiCE), worth over 2 billion dollars for just one prototype, when an A-level engine was worth around a hundred million or two hundred million.


    Their cost of production wasn''t the only distinction. The primary difference between High-Intensity Combustion Engines and Hybrid Engines lay in their power output, fuel efficiency, and risk factor.


    Hybrid engines prioritize a balance between power and sustainability, utilizing electrified components to enhance acceleration while improving fuel efficiency.


    They rely on Energy Recovery Systems (ERS) to convert waste energy into additional power.


    On the other hand, High-Intensity Combustion Engines (S-level) push raw combustion efficiency to its limits, operating at dangerously high temperatures and pressures.


    They eliminate or significantly reduce hybrid elements, relying instead on extreme internal combustion advancements to extract unmatched horsepower at the cost of greater wear, volatility, and safety concerns.


    At least, this was what was explained on the night of the gala.


    Luca heard murmurs that the FIA "had finally allowed it."


    After asking around, he realized that HiCE had been repeatedly petitioned to the FIA by various teams, only to be shut down every time on the grounds of being too dangerous.


    Had something changed? Were they somehow less dangerous now?


    Luca couldn''t tell what chassis technology from his father''s racing generation¡ªwhen the petition first began¡ªto now could possibly keep these beasts of engines in check.


    And now, he was starting to realize just how much this would shake up the competition. Some teams would definitely lack the funds to push their engine manufacturers into developing High-Intensity Combustion Engines and would be forced to stick with their A-level engines for the season.


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    Meanwhile, the few teams that could afford them would hold a clear upper hand, simply because of the sheer efficiency and raw power of these engines. S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca''s heart pounded as he recalled Ansel''s words about skill meaning nothing in F1 if you didn''t have the right car and technology.


    Back at the gala night, Luca stole a glance at Rodnick, curious about his reaction to the announcement, but the guy looked relaxed. Unbothered.


    Ferrari. Of course.


    A rich team. Jackson Racing. They would definitely have no trouble affording this new change.


    A sense of concern swelled in Luca''s chest as he began to gauge Outback''s financial heights, and whether they could even stand a chance.

 Chapter 247 A Champion Among Innovators

    Luca and Sara sought a top-tier London driving school with high-performance vehicle training, manual and automatic transmission lessons, night driving practice, motorway experience, emergency handling, parallel parking mastery, and personalized coaching.


    In a nutshell, Luca wanted a solid driving school where he could begin learning how to fully operate a commercial everyday car.


    He wasn''t doing this because he''d be getting a Jaguar soon, but mostly because he needed to start driving himself instead of relying on Sara for every little trip, no matter the destination.


    They chose a school in West London, situated in a well-organized district. The area had well-maintained roads, a mix of urban streets and quieter suburban routes, making it an ideal setting for mastering both everyday and high-performance driving.


    Sara stood by as Luca got registered. He filled out the paperwork, chose automatic, and received an orientation bulletin.


    He met his instructor, who was thrilled to have a Formula driver in his school, and they scheduled his lessons in a spaced-out manner rather than an intense timetable.


    Luca planned to get his license in three months. Fortunately, driving schools allow students to transfer their progress to another institution if needed.


    Whether he ended up in Australia or stayed in Germany by then, one thing was certain, and it was that he wouldn''t be in London. So, having the flexibility to continue his lessons elsewhere was a major advantage.


    Luca waved his instructor goodbye as they left. He''d begin in earnest to make up for the spaced-out schedule¡ªstarting tomorrow.


    Two lessons per week meant Luca would have four to six lessons left for the remainder of December.


    They returned to the heart of London, where Luca began preparing for a quick flight to Birmingham. He had no personal business there, but someone he knew did.


    Since he had been meeting everyone in person to celebrate his championship victory, this would be no exception. And with Birmingham not being too far away, the trip seemed worthwhile.


    Isabella had mentioned that she also had something to celebrate regarding her innovation group, Grid Edge. She had recently been promoted to head of the group, a position she earned through a vote by the other members.


    But that wasn''t all to be celebrated. Isabella mentioned she had more wonderful news and promised to explain everything once he arrived. Intrigued, Luca had no reason to delay.


    His flight landed in Birmingham at 12:15 PM. Gripping his lone duffel bag, he adjusted his face mask and cap.


    He knew Mallow wouldn''t approve of his unannounced trip to another city. The excitement and disappointment of the recently concluded season was still lingering, and fans were more reactive now than at any other time of the year.


    And... in the world of F2, Hatcherk Motorsport had a strong English following. But in F1, Jackson Racing was England''s true powerhouse, with Haddock Racing trailing behind.


    That was why Luca felt relatively safe because Jackson Racing were champions. There was no reason for rivalry or hostility, as their success left little room for resentment in the country.


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    Luca hailed a cab and gave the driver directions to the Custard Factory in Digbeth, where Isabella and her Grid Edge team were located.


    She worked from 10:00 AM to 3:00 PM, balancing her new role at Grid Edge while also assisting her father, Mr. Schafer, who constantly needed help, not just because he was aging, but also because he didn''t like his daughter staying away from him for too long.


    The drive took ten minutes, and Luca disembarked when the driver parked in front of the Custard Factory. He paid the fellow before standing still to take a good look at the venue.


    From what Luca could see, there was no Custard "Factory." Instead, what lay before him was a cluster of beautifully restored Victorian red-brick buildings.


    The surfaces of the walls, the facades of the buildings were adorned with murals, contemporary artwork, and paintings. There were caf¨¦s, boutique shops, and studios, with a lot of people who looked like students moving around.


    Luca approved of the place. It was a perfect setting for a social hub, very creative yet exuding a sense of professionalism and focus.


    He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Isabella, asking which building she was in as he crossed the street toward a flower shop that had just caught his eye.


    The shopkeeper, clearly not an Englishman, greeted him in a warm Caribbean manner.


    Luca explained what he was looking for and described Isabella''s personality. The shopkeeper''s face lit up with enthusiasm, assuring him he had just the right flowers¡ªat least, that''s what Luca gathered from the strange conversation.


    Finally, Luca walked out with a bouquet of white lilies and soft pink peonies. He crossed the street again and began walking toward the third building to the right of the courtyard.


    He arrived, barely acknowledging the people scattered across the open area as he made his way straight to the stairs. He climbed up, reaching the door before knocking.


    Isabella opened it, instantly recognizing him despite the fact that he was wearing both a cap and a face mask.


    Her eyes drifted down to the flowers in his hand, and without realizing it, she let go of the doorknob. The door creaked wider, revealing the vast room behind her. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca lifted a hand in a brief wave. "Hi, everyone," he greeted, his gaze sweeping over the fifteen to twenty people behind Isabella, all staring at him.


    There was silence, and it stretched until Isabella finally spoke. "Hi. Welcome," she said, breaking the tension.


    Luca handed her the flowers. "Keeping their stems in water will help them last longer," he advised.


    She accepted them, letting him inside before quietly shutting the door behind him.


    Luca pulled off his cap, freeing his hair, then removed his mask, inhaling that sharp nostalgic scent of paper, office work, and wood. His eyes roamed the space.


    It was a massive room, almost the size of a parking lot, with a carved-in staircase descending to the next floor right from the center of the room.


    There were desks everywhere, some neatly arranged with paperwork and blueprints, while others were scattered with supplies like measuring tools and all that.


    A few chairs were pushed aside, and many heavy telemetry books were stacked to the side.


    While Luca was scanning the room, he counted the people present. They were 17, and including Isabella, they were 18 in Grid Edge¡ªthat is, if no one was absent today.


    Luca also censused fifteen girls and three boys, including Isabella. He wondered when girls had started outnumbering boys in places like this.


    He had always thought of anything related to formula racing and technicality as being more balanced¡ªor even male-dominated¡ªbut here, the numbers told a different story.


    It was clear that Grid Edge had been founded by a girl, someone who likely intended to keep it female-dominated, using that dynamic as both an identity and a driving force in their competition against other innovation groups.


    "Everyone, this is Luca," Isabella introduced, standing beside him as she brought the lilies to her nose for a gentle sniff. "Luca, this is us¡ªGrid Edge."


    Luca had already greeted them earlier, so now, he simply waited for their response.


    It didn''t come in unison. Instead, all seventeen members responded at different moments, their greetings overlapping in a scattered, disorganized way.


    They were all still stunned that Isabella hadn''t been bluffing after all, and that it was really F2 World Champion Luca Rennick standing before them now.


    Luca nodded after their reply and joined Isabella at her table.


    Isabella got a glass mug, filled it halfway with water, and carefully placed the flowers inside.


    "So," she said, turning back to Luca. "What do you think of Grid Edge so far?"


    Luca''s eyes lingered on her table. It looked just like everyone else''s, with no distinct difference, even though she was now President.


    "It looks like you guys are handling government work rather than tech study," Luca remarked.


    Isabella giggled as she sat down. "That''s because this is where we study, plan, and think. The next floor down is where all our practicals are held; the few parts and computers we have are all there."


    Luca watched as she picked up a pen and swiftly jotted things down, clearly rounding up her work. Just as he expected, she began clearing her table.


    "And the good news is, our efforts have been recognized."


    "Pardon?"


    "Nevada or Jackson? Which do you think we should go for?"


    "Isabella, I''m lost."


    She sighed, taking a deep breath to temper her enthusiasm. "We''ve been approached by Nevada HanSama and Jackson Racing. They want to acquire our intel, pay us a huge sum in return, and offer us positions under their engineering departments."


    Luca was taken aback. "Why?"


    Isabella stood and walked across the room, her fellow members quickly returning their focus to their work as if they hadn''t just been staring.


    She returned with a long blueprint, spreading it on the table before Luca, then walked to his side so they could share the same perspective.


    Luca immediately recognized what was on the blueprint, it was a Formula racing engine.


    A Ferrari Tipo 052/A/C. Also known as ThunderKat due to its raw power and dominance. It was Marcellus Rodnick''s engine.


    But as Luca examined it further, something felt off. It looked like a ThunderKat, it featured like one, but¡ªbut, it showed far more potential than a hybrid engine should. This wasn''t Marcellus Rodnick''s engine.


    Luca turned to Isabella, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "How did you get your hands on a HiCE blueprint?"


    Isabella smirked, clearly amused by Luca''s reaction. His expression had changed, it was as if he was uneasy about this kind of engine. And she believed he should be.


    "It''s an old blueprint. Twenty-five years ago," she said, neatly folding it back. "It belonged to Nevada HanSama when my father was still Team Principal. I found it in our basement three years ago."


    Right. Nevada drives Ferrari too.


    "To be honest, I never thought they''d legalize HiCEs," Isabella continued. "But ever since I found this print, I''ve plotted for it and earlier this year, I brought it to Grid Edge, and we''ve been studying and planning how to make it even better."


    Luca stared in bewilderment as Isabella retrieved another print and laid it before him. This one had more edits, more scribbles, more mistakes, but its information was crystal clear and legible.


    "We''ve managed to theoretically recreate an upgraded version," Isabella explained, pointing at the differences. Not that she needed to, Luca had already spotted them himself.


    "Hmm. A HiCE that''s better than a HiCE?" Luca asked.


    "Exactly," Isabella confirmed. "It''s still under the criteria of a HiCE and not another category, so it''s likely to be titled ThunderKat Pro or ThunderKat 2.0. This is the theory Nevada and Jackson want to buy."

 Chapter 248 Unexpected Connection

    Isabella announced to her fellow members that she was leaving early for the day. They all understood and muttered words of acknowledgment as she threw her coat over herself and followed Luca out of the room.


    Leaving the building, the cold wind rushed past them as they found a taxi, their destination being the Schafer home.


    Luca had suggested they continue their discussion in a caf¨¦ or something, but Isabella said she had something at their house she wanted to show him. Luca wondered what that might be.


    During the cab ride, Luca helped Isabella weigh her options in the dilemma she faced between Nevada and Jackson.


    She had a strong reason to consider Nevada because her father had once been the Team Principal for their F1 team, and growing up surrounded by Nevada logos and colors had instilled a sense of loyalty in her.


    On the other hand, Jackson Racing had the advantage of wealth, which meant better benefits for her and her group.


    Additionally, Jackson Racing, in their proposal, they also made it clear that they had full rights to the HiCE draft, as the Ferrari Tipo series had been transferred to them in a contractual agreement seven years ago, stripping it from Nevada''s arsenal.


    However, since both teams were Ferrari-powered, Nevada HanSama could still find a way around that issue.


    Before they arrived at Isabella''s home, Luca convinced her to choose Jackson Racing over Nevada HanSama.


    Wanting the best for her, he made her understand that letting go of childhood loyalty was sometimes necessary for growth. Sentimentality had its place, but opportunities and long-term benefits mattered more.


    Jackson Racing''s financial strength and resources would provide the best support for her and her group, ensuring stability and progress.


    He also added that Jackson Racing were literally at their peak, and joining them at this time would be a big merit.


    In the end, Isabella agreed. Practicality outweighed nostalgia, and she chose the path that would secure her future.


    They arrived in Harborne, a well-regarded neighborhood in Birmingham with a village-like atmosphere. The cab stopped in front of a simple duplex where Isabella had directed the driver.


    After paying, Luca stepped out and took a moment to take in the sight.


    It was a modest duplex with a brick facade and large windows. There was no gate, no fence, no real security protection, just the front door, led by the driveway and the porch.


    "This used to be my dad''s second house, and we used to live in Edgbaston," Isabella said as they walked up to the porch. "But ever since all this started in May, he sold the other, and we moved here permanently."


    When they entered, Isabella offered Luca some snacks and a drink, but he declined, asking only for water. After taking a few sips, she invited him to the garage.


    As they moved through the house, Luca couldn''t help but take everything in. The place wasn''t really in a bad shape. It was clean, well-ornamented, but it lacked warmth.


    Some unpacked boxes were still stacked in the corners, as if they had never truly settled in. There were no family photos on the walls, no personal touches, just furniture arranged in a way that felt temporary and permanent at the same time.


    Luca joined Isabella in the garage, and he was surprised how the whole place had been transitioned into Isabella''s own personal mechanic workshop.


    There was a blue Nissan right at the center, completely dismantled, as if Isabella had been performing surgery on it for thirty years.


    Some car and engine components were neatly arranged on workbenches, and diagnostic equipment was scattered around.


    Luca wondered at what age Isabella had become a car fanatic. It must have been as early as three to five years old because this place almost felt like her sanctuary of some sort.


    To the hidden side, beneath some cupboards and beside shelves overfilled with tools and spare parts, a detached car seat rested against the wall.


    A pizza box. Am empty milkshake. An open bag of crisps. A chocolate bar wrapper.


    That was definitely where she relaxed and ate after a long day. All left as it was. Undisposed.


    Isabella had no idea Luca had noticed that particular mess within the general clutter. She was too busy searching for what she wanted to show him, sweating slightly as she rummaged through her own territory.


    Luca remained quiet, watching her move back and forth, bending low and looking up, until she finally made a sound of satisfaction.


    "I''m sure I''m not the only one who finds your last name suspicious," she said, lifting what looked like a large framed portrait to show Luca. "And I feel so dumb for overlooking it all this while." S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca remained silent, his eyes not on what she was holding as if it weighed a ton, but on her.


    When she rested the portrait on a desk and spun it around to face him, his gaze finally shifted downward.


    "Is this your father?"


    Luca''s eyes widened, his pupils locking onto the photo as his brain registered the sight.


    Mr. Aldo Rennick was portrayed in the framed portrait, from his reddish-brown receded hair to his chest.


    Luca''s face tightened in confusion, and he choked on his words. "What''s that doing here...?" he asked slowly. What was a portrait of his father doing in Isabella''s sanctuary?


    Isabella nodded. Luca''s reaction had just confirmed what she suspected that the late F1 racer Aldo Rennick was his father.


    "Your father drove for Nevada HanSama, and my dad was his Team Principal at the time," Isabella said, dusting off the portrait. "I''ve had this since I was a kid. I thought I could make a collection of portraits of old racers."


    Luca closed his dry mouth and swallowed before stepping forward, taking the portrait into his hands. His brown eyes stared into another set of brown.


    "You can have it if you want," Isabella offered, but Luca refused. His chuckle startled her as he handed the portrait back.


    "No, it''s yours. Trust me, I have plenty of his pictures," he said, exhaling and tucking his hands into his pockets.


    Isabella carefully set down the portrait as a brief silence settled between them.


    After a moment, she spoke. "I''m really sorry for what happened," she said. "This sport of ours can be truly... ruthless."


    Isabella had only been learning her ABCs when Luca''s father lost his life at a certain Austrian Grand Prix. She hadn''t understood much at the time, but she could still recall the somber mood that lingered in their home for weeks.


    Her father''s heavy silence, the hushed voices of guests, and the steady stream of people visiting day after day had been imprinted in her childhood memories.


    "It can also be a fateful sport," Luca said with a smile. "So, both our dads knew each other, then?"


    "Yes!"


    Great! This was a green light go for Luca! If Mr. Schafer realized this, he might just let him have unrestricted access to Isabella.


    But a sudden thought hit him.


    Of all people, Mr. Schafer should be the one most suspicious of his last name and even his appearance, let alone the other things he might have noticed. Find adventures at My Virtual Library Empire


    Luca wondered if Mr. Schafer knew he was the son of one of his drivers from the last generation.


    Regardless, Luca wasn''t going to miss out on this opportunity. So, right there and then, he asked Isabella out on a date.


    There would be rooftop dining in a glass dome at a certain hotel on Christmas night, so Luca invited Isabella to spend the night on top of the city with him during the festive period.


    To his relief, she accepted without hesitation.

 Chapter 249 Chill Of Winter. 2

    The following day, Luca began his driving school lessons, with the day''s activity being an introduction to vehicle controls and basic road safety.


    He familiarized himself with the steering wheel, pedals, gear shifts, and mirrors before practicing smooth acceleration, braking, and turning in a controlled environment.


    As he drove to instruction, he noticed different similarities and differences between a normal car and an F1 car. The major similarity was that they both required focus, it was just a matter of how much.


    The sensation of being in a normal car was more comfortable, muted, and milder than the hot cockpit of a single-seater. The pedals were far less aggressive, and the steering was vastly lighter and less precise.


    At the end of it all, Luca was able to finish the activity without any major issues.


    While it wasn''t the high-speed precision he was used to, he adapted quickly, maintaining smooth control and executing the required maneuvers with ease.


    The instructor, having observed his performance, gave him a grading of 8.5 out of 10, commending his natural confidence and sharp awareness behind the wheel for a first-timer.


    It was a solid start, and he was ready for the next lesson with another bulletin.


    Luca returned to his hotel room to prepare for his early flight to Berlin the next day.


    Finally, Mr. Schafer had invited him to a meeting to discuss the ongoing "predicament," as he described it. A Zoom call was out of the question, and Luca was required to be present at Trampos HQ by noon the next day.


    After a peaceful day completing his Daily Quest at 2 PM, night fell, followed by an uninterrupted sleep until Luca woke up on time for his Daily Routine.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    After a successful workout session, Luca took a shower, ate breakfast as quickly as possible, and dressed in a neat, casual outfit. He grabbed his duffel bag along with his stealth accessories¡ªnose mask and cap. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    No Sara, no Mallow. He would be in Berlin for just a day or two before returning to London. He still had driving lessons waiting for him and a family to be with as Christmas approached.


    The plane departed at 7:30 AM, and much to Luca''s surprise, he slept through most of the flight until the announcement for landing at Berlin Brandenburg Airport at 9:30 AM.


    This was starting to feel like a routine for him. The process of landing at the same airport, walking across the tarmac into the terminal, passing through immigration, retrieving his luggage, and heading outside to catch a ride to Dahlem.


    Luca leaned against the window of the cab as it rolled through the streets of Berlin. A woman and her crying child shared the ride with him, but their presence barely registered in his mind.


    His gaze was fixed on the familiar cityscape, taking in how the capital still held onto its celebrations.


    Germany was still reveling in the championship victory of its only Formula team. From the way the banners displayed and illustrated it, one would think Luca was a Messiah who had risen from the flames to lead them to glory.


    By now, it was public knowledge that Luca intended to leave Trampos, there was no hiding it. He was certain that everyone knew.


    So why were there still fresh posters with his face plastered across the city, as if he were a permanent fixture?


    Was this their way of trying to make him stay?


    Luca remembered the very advice he had given Isabella¡ªalways make decisions that benefit you, not just to satisfy a nostalgic urge.


    He knew that leaving Trampos would be emotionally difficult. The connection, the memories, the triumphs, it all ran deep even though it was all in one year.


    But physically? All he had to do was force his fingers to sign a contract, and just like that, he''d be racing in an F1 chassis next season.


    Luca stepped out of the cab as it pulled up in front of his gate. After paying the driver, he took a deep breath, letting the crisp air of his neighborhood settle in.


    His gaze shifted to the usual spot where the daily newspaper was dropped, and sure enough, there it was, neatly folded and untouched.


    Picking it up, he tucked it under his arm and unlocked the gate. With a gentle push, the gate rumbled open, revealing his big, lonely house worth millions.


    Luca stood there for a moment.


    He remembered when he was about to leave for his abrupt flight to Italy for the finale, he made a mental note to gauge how fast his house would show signs of neglect in his absence.


    Now, as his eyes swept over the property, he could see the results. And the remark was:I definitely need cleaners while I''m away.


    The lawn grass had grown slightly but visibly and unevenly taller, making it not really appealing to the eyes than before.


    And that was where grass could be seen, because the scattered leaves had multiplied, blanketing the premises. Luca estimated one hour of raking for that.


    And lastly, a faint layer of dust had clung to the front windows, where the wind normally brushed past.


    Luca closed the gate behind him and walked to the front door, the leaves squelching beneath his sneakers.


    He got in and settled faster than a panda, then moved to the kitchen to prepare something before heading to the HQ by 12.


    While the pot simmered, Luca made his way to the spacious living room, sinking into a chair as he grabbed the day''s newspaper.


    He had always loved Berlin''s papers and wanted to catch up on what he had missed, checking if there were any noteworthy updates.


    Hmmmm!


    Luca knew he had likely been one of the most talked-about people in Germany for the past month, with celebrations still ongoing. But he definitely didn''t expect to see an article about himself right there in print!


    This wasn''t random. It meant he had probably been featured in the papers week after week.


    "LUCA RENNICK''S ALMOST CERTAIN F1 FUTURE!"


    "OUTBACK PERFORMANCE ON THE VERGE OF SEALING THE DEAL!"


    "LUCA RENNICK DOMINATES THE GALA! THREE AWARDS TO HIS NAME"


    "WHY RENNICK MIGHT BE LEAVING TRAMPOS! ABUSE OR GREED?"


    Luca shook his head in pity for himself as he read. One headline, in particular, caught his eye.


    "WHO IS GERMANY''S CHAMPION? WHO IS LUCA RENNICK?"


    Who am I? Let''s see.


    Luca was stunned by what he saw. It was practically a biography about him, and whoever wrote it had to be a relative, because they were damn accurate!


    "¡­19 years old, born on the 15th of September, in San Casciano in Val di Pesa, Italy¡­"


    Stay tuned for updates on My Virtual Library Empire


    "¡­resided in London, studied at Westborough High, London. No college degree¡­"


    If Luca was honest, he had never found anything as captivating as this in his life.


    He briefly glanced at the kitchen before shifting his focus back to the paper, crossing his legs to get the full gist.

 Chapter 250 A Champions Burden

    At 12 PM, Luca was on his way to the HQ.


    He had the taxi dispatch number of the park near the airport, where cab drivers gathered as a group with a collective interest.


    So he made the call, requesting a dispatch service from the network of drivers to pick him up from Dahlem, so far away.


    The cab driver arrived on time, and before long, Luca was already on his way.


    Luca had made a huge mistake, and he hoped it wouldn''t lead to bad consequences.


    When he was leaving his gate and stepping into the taxi, he hadn''t yet put on his nose mask and cap. The taxi driver, a Formula racing fan, recognized him instantly, his eyes going wide.


    Because of this, the ride wasn''t boring. The man kept blabbing excitedly, praising Luca and thanking him for bringing glory to Deutschland.


    Luca spoke with the driver, cracked jokes with him, but in the end, he made a request. He asked the man to promise he wouldn''t tell a soul about Luca Rennick''s address.


    The cab driver hesitated. He looked like an aged talkative.


    "Ah, mein Junge... it''ll be hard..." the driver wailed.


    Luca sighed, already knowing this would be a problem.


    "But I''ll do anything for you! Our #21!" the driver suddenly exclaimed before making a gesture of zipping his lips.


    Luca smiled briefly. The last thing he wanted was a mob of fans outside his house, turning his peaceful neighborhood into a circus.


    He adjusted his cap lower and leaned back into the seat, exhaling quietly.


    "You know," the man continued, his tone full of pride. "Now we have elites, but back then, we had legends. You, mein Junge, you are different. You have the fire of the old racers, the ones who didn''t just drive, but fought!"


    Luca wasn''t used to being glazed to this extent. He only said, "Thanks."


    "When you took the Drop in the French against that Addams¡ªah!¡ªI nearly threw my beer at the screen!"


    Luca began imagining the sheer number of people who had watched away from the circuit. They''d all have different versions to tell of Max''s crash in Le Castellet.


    The driver clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "But now... now they say you want to leave."


    Luca''s gaze shifted slightly, but he said nothing.


    "Is it true?" the driver pressed, his voice quieter now. "You''re really going to F1?"


    Luca exhaled through his nose, leaning his head back. He wondered what he should tell this man.


    The driver seemed like a good, enthusiastic fellow, and Luca didn''t want to spoil his day by confirming what they both knew would likely happen.


    "You leave, and who takes your place? Who carries the fire?"


    "Ansel."


    "Hahn? The Hahn that crashed you?"


    Luca had no answer to that.


    "If you go..." the cab driver sighed, his voice trailing off. "We start from nothing again."


    Luca''s eyes lit up when the surroundings leading to the HQ emerged into view. The conversation was over as a security guard approached the car rolling over gravel and stones.


    Luca removed his mask and cap as the guard bent down to inspect the driver and passenger. When he saw Luca, his scrutinizing expression changed to surprise.


    Luca made sure to pay the cab driver extra as a reward for his undying loyalty to Trampos and as a small bribing measure to ensure he kept his mouth sealed about his address.


    "It was an honor ferrying a knight to the castle," the driver said before driving away.


    Luca watched him disappear down the road before turning around and following the security guard toward the HQ gate.


    --------


    Luca knew there were still some activities left to handle, maybe some parts to repair, some orientation to give new crew members, and other post-season tasks.


    But with the season officially over, none of it was truly urgent. Some of these tasks could easily be postponed until late January.


    As far as he was concerned, the rest of December should be a time for the crew to take a well-earned break before the next season. So he fully expected the HQ to be quieter today.


    Yet, contrary to his expectations, everyone was present.


    The surroundings had a deserted feeling, but its capacity was anything but that. It felt just like a regular drill day in the heat of the season, with every crew member he knew on-site.


    Still, they all seemed less busy. Some had even brought their kids along, and at a distance, Luca could see children running and playing on the track.


    He wondered if they had all gathered here today knowing he would be coming in for his meeting with Mr. Fisher.


    Luca hadn''t seen any of Trampos'' crew members since the finale celebrations¡ªexcept for Mr. Grant, Ms. Vallotton, and Colt¡ªthe night of the F2 Italian Mega Prix, the night after, and the two nights that followed.


    And now, with his impending exit drawing closer, many had begun to believe he was deliberately distancing himself.


    Luca was about to prove them wrong. He had promised himself that he would give his goodbye in the best possible manner, and that was exactly what he intended to do. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But for now, it was 12:35 PM and he was already late for his meeting with Mr. Fisher.


    So instead of heading straight to where the crew was mostly gathered, he diverted to the main building, greeting and hugging those he passed along the way.


    "Welcome, Luca," Mr. Fisher said once Luca got comfortable in his cozy office. "I suppose I haven''t properly congratulated you for becoming F2 Champion."


    "There''s no need to," Luca replied humbly, noting how Mr. Fisher had gotten even rounder. "Every driver is a driver to win. And I won, helping the team to win."


    Mr. Fisher stared at Luca with a soft smile, as if his mind wasn''t present for a split second. Then, he exhaled and rose from the edge of the table he had been sitting on.


    Luca watched him walk around his table to his chair. "But now, we''re about to lose," he said, sitting down and looking up at Luca. "We''re about to lose you."


    Luca stayed silent, gripping the armchair tightly. Another test.


    "Tell me, Luca," Mr. Fisher continued, his heart weighing. "Do you really want to go to F1 now? I hope you aren''t being pressured in any way? Any other reason related to persuasion? Is there any?"


    "No, sir," Luca replied quickly. "F2 is the starting point. F1 is the destination."


    Mr. Fisher nodded, flipping through a file.


    "It''s Outback''s fault they don''t have both our signatures yet," Mr. Fisher said after a long moment of silence. "They''re trying to play bargaining games, not realizing that there are many fishes in the sea."


    Luca was expecting the main point any moment now.


    "We have another set of knuckles on our door," Mr. Fisher said. "Nevada HanSama. Ready to give us what you want, and I believe they''re also ready to give more than what you want."


    "Would you like to go to the Italian team?"

 Chapter 251 Imperial Red

    One could say Nevada HanSama might just turn out to be like Outback Performance. The reason was that the team had begun showing the same signs Outback exuded when they dropped from the top of the competition.


    First, they were no longer as feared on the track as they once were.


    Second, their points tally over the past few seasons had fallen short of what the great Italian team was known for.


    Now, they were slowly being pushed out of the rivalry discussions for the title of Italy''s Kings, as fans increasingly focused on Velocit¨¤ and Squadra.


    Lastly, they had lost favor with their engine supplier, Ferrari, which had shifted its priority to Jackson Racing, just like how Outback lost Red Bull''s backing to Velocit¨¤.


    Jackson Racing had come by storm with new owners and a revamped board, gradually stripping Nevada of its most beneficial privileges season after season.


    Even though some claimed that both Jackson and Nevada held equal standing with Ferrari, Luca knew that was a lie.


    There was always a number one and a number two.


    And now, Luca was given a choice between number one¡ªOutback Performance of the beautiful country of Australia¡ªor Nevada HanSama of the great country of Italy.


    What choice would you make?


    Luca kept his own words of advice to Isabella in mind as he told Mr. Fisher he would much rather prefer Nevada over Outback.


    His reasons were simple, and one of them was that he needed to leave Trampos in peace¡ªno feuds, no unresolved issues. Nevada HanSama was prepared to make that possible by offering both parties what they wanted.


    Outback, however, was attempting to sway Trampos of a few extra million. A few million that a thriving F2 team could use to support and fund itself in many ways.


    Another reason Luca preferred Nevada was obvious.


    This was Nevada HanSama. This was the very F1 team his late father had raced for. The same team he had cheered for as a little boy when he was still as little as Harry. Of course, Luca would make this choice.


    Besides, Nevada''s primary color was similar to Trampos'' red but carried a royal touch¡ªImperial Red.


    But imagine it for Luca! Driving in the same livery, under the same banner his father once raced for! This was a dream come true, even though he realized he had never actually dreamt of it before.


    Luca wondered if Nevada suspected he might be magnificent for them, not just because of his exceptional performance in the past season, but because his last name, shared with one of their legends from years ago, might just be a prophecy.


    Luca was ready to make it come to pass.


    He nodded firmly to Mr. Fisher.


    Even though Luca''s answer came out confidently, for the second time in that meeting, Mr. Fisher questioned him again about his certainty in leaving Trampos.


    Luca was starting to get irritated by these repeated questions from his President. He understood that Mr. Fisher was just being considerate, but by now, it felt less like genuine concern and more like a safeguard and a way to later say, "I told you so" if things didn''t work out for him in F1.


    He wondered why so many people kept asking if he was being persuaded to join F1. How could someone even be persuaded? This was the dream of every driver below the highest division.


    Even Mr. Lema?tre, who had always envisioned him as an F1 racer and seemed fully supportive of his move, had called him the other day. After offering his congratulations, he followed up with questions strikingly similar to Mr. Fisher''s.


    Mr. Lema?tre''s questions were even more direct, almost as if he was asking Luca to reconsider and stay with Trampos. But Luca wasn''t having any of it, not from Mr. Lema?tre and certainly not from Mr. Fisher.


    When it became clear to Mr. Fisher that Luca''s confidence wasn''t going to waver, he let out a silent sigh of defeat and nodded in acknowledgment of his decision.


    Then, with a few final words, he assured Luca that he''d do his best to facilitate the transfer so he could join Nevada as soon as possible, long before the season opener.


    He also mentioned that he had given them Mallow''s contact number so they could finalize personal terms swiftly.


    Luca thanked him as he stood to conclude the meeting.


    Their hands met in the heaviest handshake Luca had ever experienced. He looked straight into Mr. Fisher''s eyes with all sincerity.


    "I''m really sorry, sir," Luca said.


    Mr. Fisher pulled him into a brief hug from the handshake.


    "I know, I know."


    With a heavy heart, Luca left Mr. Fisher''s office, recalling the first time he had stepped foot inside. He was a year younger, enthusiastic, with zero race wins to his name, searching for a place in the world of motorsport.


    And now, after finding that place, he had chosen to search for another.


    He sighed and descended to the ground floor, greeting and hugging the familiar faces working in the main building.


    When he exited, he inhaled deeply, gathering the courage to meet the crew members.


    Luca bounced out of the main building, heading toward them, until a sharp whistle from a woman caught his attention.


    He glanced left at the parking lot, where a sleek, black Rolls-Royce Phantom limousine was parked.


    Its body was lucent under the sunlight with tinted windows and chrome accents reflecting the surroundings. The tires were polished, and the renowned Spirit of Ecstasy ornament rested proudly at the hood''s tip.


    One of the windows slid down, revealing a woman with her head out, watching Luca.


    He pointed at himself questioningly.


    She nodded.


    Curious, Luca walked closer.


    He had noticed the limo earlier when he arrived but hadn''t given it much thought. Now, with a better view, he spotted a deep emblazonment of Nevada HanSama''s logo.


    Nevada HanSama''s logo was a trio of red arcs facing left, a straight red line beneath, and two smaller arcs forming an umbrella-like structure.


    This vehicle must belong to an executive, Luca thought as he drew closer, unsettled by the lady''s strange wide smile.


    "Hello, Luca," she called out as he approached, her voice smooth and composed.


    "Hello?"


    "I''m Mrs. Coastfield. I represent Nevada HanSama Formula 1 team," she said before withdrawing into the limo and opening the door, revealing the grand interior.


    Dressed in a black suit, pants, and heels, she sat poised, her dark eyes steady. "Come in. We have a lot to talk about."


    Come in...? S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca glanced left and right. Come in?


    Yes, Nevada was the team he decided to race for minutes ago, but entering a stranger''s vehicle went against every lesson his mother had ever taught him.


    Mrs. Coastfield''s brow twitched at his hesitation. "Honey, we don''t have much time. We''re not on home soil, okay? Come in, let''s discuss Luca Rennick in a Nevada Ferrari for next season."


    Luca exhaled, wrestling with his instincts. This should be right, he reasoned. She said "we" Was there someone else inside?


    Mrs. Coastfield shifted, making space for him.


    With one final breath, Luca climbed in, sealing his fate with the quiet click of the limo door behind him.

 Chapter 252 Imperial Red. 2

    Any air-conditioned place Luca had ever been in always turned out to be too cold, freezing and unbearably uncomfortable.


    But as he sat in the limo, the built-in AC was the mildest he had ever experienced.


    The best word for it was chill, a soothing and balanced coolness that neither numbed his skin nor made him wish for a jacket.


    He drummed his fingers on the window sill, staring out at the headquarters'' premises. Luca was looking anywhere but directly into the eyes of the elderly man seated opposite him and Coastfield.


    The elderly man had pale white hair, thin and wispy, barely clinging to his scalp, yet neatly combed back, as if he still cared about appearances.


    His skin was frail, sagging around his jaw, and a deep frown line creased his forehead. This was Mr. Almansa, CEO of Nevada HanSama.


    He was very old¡ªwell into his 80s¡ªbut his sharp eyes never dulled, no matter his age. And with those sharp eyes, he had been studying Luca ever since he entered the limo.


    "This lad will either help us or drag us straight to ruin," Mr. Almansa muttered, his aged teeth grinding together.


    Coastfield sat up straighter. "So, is that your confirmation, sir?"


    "Of course it is," Mr. Almansa snapped. "Look at him. He even looks more silly than his father did!"


    Luca frowned. He had come here to discuss future plans with the team that had just put a price on him, not to be judged like some kid at an audition.


    Then he felt himself move. No, not him¡ªthe vehicle. "We''re moving?"


    "Yes," Coastfield answered, while Mr. Almansa''s sharp eyes never left Luca. "Conversations flow better when the city moves past the windows."


    "I wanted to greet my team crew and chill with them."


    "Your former team crew," Coastfield corrected, her tone smooth. "Consider yourself a red stallion now. And you still have plenty of time to dine with them if it comes to that."


    Luca exhaled and leaned back into the soft leather seat. His gaze met Mr. Almansa''s for a brief moment before dropping to the old man''s hands.


    The fingers were covered in rings, ancient ones, some probably on his hands for half a century. This was old money sitting across from him, wealth built long before Luca had ever worn a diaper.


    "Am I being signed because I''m a good driver, or because I''m Aldo''s son?" Luca asked.


    "Both," Coastfield replied. "But once you''re in the team... we''ll be making some adjustments to that identity."


    "You''ll see more about it in the contract, dear," she added with a knowing smile.


    Luca squinted at her, studying her face. That smile was too wide, too eager. "Who are you, exactly? Mr. Almansa here is the CEO. What''s your position?"


    Coastfield''s smile shifted, less broad now and more measured. "I''m an agent under our HDD, and since this year, I''ve been the one pushing for our team to go after you," she explained. "And I''m also here to prove to Mr. Almansa that you will be an asset, not our downfall."


    Luca looked out the window, letting their words drift around him.


    "All we''re saying is that we''re looking forward to working smoothly with you," Coastfield continued. "Giving you the best privileges, as a tribute to the late Aldo, and letting the legacy carry on..."


    Legacy? My father never even won a championship. Zero F1 Drivers'' Championships for Rennick the Rocket.


    What did he even do to get such fame and liking?


    "That''ll be great," Luca said, keeping his tone even. "But I don''t want anything too clich¨¦. No changing my race number to his #12, no sentimental tributes, no wearing something of his. I want my own career."


    Mrs. Coastfield''s eyes lit up. She turned to Mr. Almansa with a smile so wide it almost looked rehearsed.


    "Exactly! Perfect! That''s what we all want! Your own career! You! Luca! Just you, driving for Nevada as great as you can, and leading us to victory after victory."


    Too much enthusiasm...


    "We really see your family to heart and we care about you all," Mrs. Coastfield continued, fully embracing her talking nature. "We understand this might be a very memorable Christmas for you all. I was really touched when your mother broke into tears at the Gala. I bet this Christmas will be the best in a while?"


    Luca thought of his fixed date with Isabella. He wondered if they were officially a thing or if the date and a kiss afterward would be needed to seal it.


    Either way, this was the most serious endeavor he had pursued. This Christmas would definitely be memorable.


    "Yes, it will," Luca replied.


    "Wonderful. But since we want everything done quickly before the new season in mid-March, we need to get everyone''s signature by... the first of January?"


    "That''s New Year," Luca pointed out.


    "Okay, let''s rephrase. The third of January? We really need things sealed, Luca," Coastfield said, her tone shifting, like it wasn''t just her speaking but Mr. Almansa speaking through her.


    Luca nodded and glanced out the window again.


    Then he froze.


    The surroundings were too familiar.


    This was Dahlem.


    What were they doing here?!


    Mrs. Coastfield acted as if she didn''t notice Luca''s surprised expression and casually suggested they exchange numbers for better communication and to smoothen any friction.


    Luca gave her his number, but his mind was elsewhere. Why were they nearing his neighborhood? Was this just the route they took? No, it was too uncanny for that.


    Before he could piece things together, the limo rolled to a stop right in front of his house.


    "We''re here," Coastfield said, glancing at Mr. Almansa as if expecting him to say something final.


    Luca frowned. "We''re here?" He leaned forward. "I never asked for a ride home. And how do you even know my address?" He stretched his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the driver. Maybe it was the cab driver from earlier?


    Coastfield chuckled and placed her right hand on Luca''s left shoulder. "If you think your house is private and hidden, you''re mistaken."


    Luca really didn''t like the sound of that.


    He opened the door and stepped out, his thoughts still tangled in the strange encounter. As he strode to the gate, he paused, waiting for them to leave, the limo humming quietly behind him.


    Then, the left window slid down, and Coastfield leaned out again.


    "Please, hear no offers from Nordvind or anyone else. And let''s get those personal terms agreed on as soon as possible, okay?"


    "Sure," Luca replied, though he barely processed the words.


    He watched as Mrs. Coastfield disappeared back into the car, the window sliding up, but not before giving him one last glimpse of Mr. Almansa''s stern, aged gaze.


    The limo drove off.


    Luca turned, pushed open the gate, and checked the time. It was a few minutes past 5 PM.


    He sighed and stepped inside.


    Something about Nevada HanSama wasn''t sitting right with him. And no, it wasn''t just Mrs. Coastfield''s talkative nature because he had known more talkatives in his life. It wasn''t even Mr. Almansa''s imposing demeanor.


    It was the subtle things she said.


    Like when she mentioned pushing for them to go after him.


    A team like Nevada HanSama, one that had been starving for prodigies, shouldn''t have needed convincing to sign a star youngster like him.


    So what did that mean? That they had been deliberately ignoring him? Rejecting him every time Coastfield appealed? S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    And now, all of a sudden, they wanted him, applying for his transfer late over Outback and making sure Trampos got a good offer so the deal would be unchallenged?


    Luca sighed. Since when did sports require this much overthinking outside the actual battlefield? He figured he''d think about it later.


    Right now, what really bothered him was what Coastfield had said.


    His house wasn''t private and hidden?

 Chapter 253 Merry Christmas

    Before returning to London the following day, Luca made sure to spend at least two hours at HQ with the team.


    There weren''t as many people as yesterday, confirming his suspicion that most had only shown up because they knew he would be there.


    This realization made him a bit sad. Those who were absent today might think he had completely disregarded them and decided not to return. And the truth was, he wouldn''t be back in Berlin again until next year.


    Luca managed to call a few of them to come, but even then, the group still wasn''t complete.


    Haas, Mr. Grant, Ms. Vallotton, and Colt were missing. Even though they were invited, they didn''t seem particularly eager to leave their homes just to come and see him.


    Regardless of who was there or not, Luca had fun playing with McCauley and Mr. Ruben''s children, enjoying the time he had left. S§×ar?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    At some point, someone suggested that he take the F2 04 out for a spin since this might be his last time in one. Everyone loved the idea, and before long, Luca found himself getting suited up in a Trampos Veststar.


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    He sighed, taking one last good look at himself in the mirror before swiftly putting on his helmet and dashing out into the cold morning.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Dallara (F2 04)]


    Luca was grateful to whoever had suggested he get into the car one last time. After tearing around the small track, making donuts, and drifting wildly to the thrill of everyone watching, he realized there was some system communication he needed to do.


    [Ding!]


    [Car, chassis, and engine detected.]


    [Would you like to select <F2 04 (Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit) as your designated car?]


    [Y / N]


    It turned out he needed to be synchronized to a car after attaining the Professional Bundle in order to unlock its features.


    And with this new leveling-up system, every vehicle had a profile status. Any car he designated as his own would now have a tracked progress report, allowing him to monitor his development as its driver.


    [Host''s car''s status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Car Information:


    Car Name: Dallara (F2 04)


    Chassis: F2 04 Chassis


    Engine: Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit (SomberCore ]


    ----------------------------


    [Performance Information:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h


    Acceleration: 3.5 s (0-100 km/h)


    Aerodynamics: 15


    Downforce: 10


    Braking Efficiency: 15


    Handling: 10


    Tire Wear Management: 8 ]


    -------------------------------


    [Engine Features: (B) Rating


    -Power Boost: 5


    -Eco-love: 5


    -Great Stamina: 5 ]


    -------------------------------


    [Skills:


    ¡ªGripper: 5 ]


    ------------------------------


    Luca was amazed by what he could see on the system''s interface. It felt like the system was taking him to a whole new world.


    It looked just like his own profile status, but with entirely different attributes, ones he could actually level up.


    The system had explained most of these beforehand, so nothing felt foreign. Except for the Engine Feature tab, where the B-level rating was displayed.


    "What are those, system? Skills? Can I level them up too?"


    [Engine Features are the respective characteristics an engine is known for, differentiating it from others, thereby showing its potential and ability on the track.]


    [Yes, they can be leveled up. However, only with the Tuning Upgrade Tool: Wrench, and not by natural progression.]


    "Okay."


    "So, this is how the F2 04''s stats are..." Luca muttered to himself. "I wonder what an F1 chassis stats look like... and their engine features."


    Luca paused, his mind drifting as far as the cosmos.


    I wonder what a HiCE Engine Features would be!


    Luca wished Nevada might be able to secure one next season and place him in the cockpit to pilot it.


    He wouldn''t hesitate to begin this whole car leveling up endeavor. From S-level, he could stretch it to SS or even SSS, if the system permitted such rankings.


    But ever since the Italian Mega Prix, Luca hadn''t received any Catalyst or Wrench. And the system had explained that Wrenches were the most important tools for car upgrades.


    "System, you''ve never given me a Catalyst nor a Wrench as a Daily Quest reward. I''m expecting one."


    Luca recalled how he''d been barely paying attention to his system lately, more focused on his second life now. He only just realized he hadn''t been getting any rewards¡ªor punishments¡ªfor his Daily Quests either.


    [Catalysts and Wrenches are obtained through Daily Quests, Race Wins, reaching milestones, and other achievements.]


    [Most Daily Quest rewards are randomly generated, host. Only a few are specifically arranged by the system.]


    [Lack of rewards lately is also a result of lack of punishments attached.]


    Tsk! Stop playing smart.


    Studying the car status again, Luca realized he didn''t need to upgrade his F2 04, since he''d be moving to F1 to drive a whole different chassis.


    It''d be better to invest his Cs and Ws there instead...


    But if he started increasing the stats of this Dallara (F2 04) and then switched to another team, would he lose all his progress?


    Luca considered an example: what if he hadn''t finished maxing out all the sections, but he suddenly moved to another team due to some reasons? Would he have to start from scratch, leveling up the new team''s chassis all over again?


    He expected the system to have an explanation. And it did.


    [System cannot directly calculate and transfer all progress to a new car. However, host has the option to transfer existing stats to another car.]


    "What..."


    [For example: If Chassis X has stats (50, 25, 33, 60) and is rated A, and host selects a new chassis, Chassis Y, which has stats (12, 20, 30, 22) and is rated B...]


    [Host can choose to transfer Chassis X''s stats to Chassis Y. This is a direct transfer, meaning no additions or multiplication of the values, only a full replacement and continuation.]


    [Thus, after the transfer, Chassis Y will now have stats (50, 25, 33, 60) and be upgraded to A.]


    "Wow! That''s incredible. I really like it!"


    [System is delighted to receive positive feedback on Tuning Upgrade!]


    This was just like saved data on a computer, more like a flash drive that he could connect to any PC and resume his work. Luca found it very satisfying and helpful.


    He left the headquarters by late morning and made the finishing touches to his home before leaving it for the rest of the year.


    He wondered how it would look when he returned.


    Luca got on the afternoon plane back to London. He had driving lessons to attend and fencing to spar with Adrian.

 Chapter 254 Merry Christmas. 2

    The following week, motorsport news was abuzz with the headline announcement that F1 team Nevada HanSama had successfully come to an agreement with Luca Rennick and Trampos Racing, swooping in just as Outback Performance continued to stall negotiations.


    With Christmas fast approaching, the timing of the deal sent shockwaves through the Formula 1 press. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Many had expected Outback to secure Luca''s and Trampos'' signatures after weeks of back-and-forth discussions, but their hesitation ultimately opened the door for Nevada HanSama to strike.


    Luca had received a few calls from the President of Outback Performance. The man assured him not to worry, insisting they could overturn this in an instant.


    Luca knew it was a waste of time. He had already agreed on personal terms with Nevada a few days ago, and Trampos'' approval was undoubtedly on Nevada''s side.


    The deal was considered concluded, and Luca could very well call himself a Red Stallion now. It would all be sealed on the third of January after the New Year.


    For now, it was Christmas. And even though this wasn''t a particularly "cold" year and snow had yet to fall, the festiveness of the season still swept through the air.


    Streets were illuminated with dazzling lights, storefronts adorned with decorations, and the scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced wine filled all corners of London.


    Luca was truly enthusiastic about this Christmas. It might just be the one they''d actually celebrate with warmth, joy, and a sense of completeness, something they hadn''t truly experienced before.


    For the first time since Sophia could remember, a beautifully decorated tree stood in their living room at the house in Clapham. The Christmas tree had twinkling lights that filled the entire room.


    Mrs. Rennick had transformed the living room into a cozy holiday haven. She had always been skilled at arranging and decorating, and now their home looked like the kind of place Santa himself would choose to live in.


    The warm, festive glow spilling from their windows made some neighbors a bit envious, though none could deny how beautiful the house had become.


    Even though no one in the Rennick family had ever truly believed in the jolly fat man, Mrs. Rennick still upheld tradition. She carefully hung three stockings by the fireplace, each one lovingly embroidered with their names. It was a personal touch she had long wanted to add but never had the chance. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire


    Even the porch was decorated with Christmas ornaments and lights, casting a warm and inviting glow onto the pavement outside.


    Luca made sure they bought all the necessary decorations to capture the essence of Christmas. All he needed now was some snow to complete the perfect picture of a warm house basking in the festivity of winter.


    Luca made a point of spreading the holiday cheer in his own way. One day, he set out for Christmas shopping, picking out thoughtful gifts for everyone he knew.


    He got presents for Sara and Mallow and even found something simple but meaningful for Mr. Vance, who was now part of the team.


    The next day was dedicated to shopping with his mother. They went to the market together, buying everything needed for the festivities¡ªsnacks, ingredients for main meals, and plenty of drinks.


    When they got home, Luca helped her bake, something he hadn''t done since this time last year.


    Mrs. Rennick was grateful for the extra hands, but more than that, she cherished the time she spent with her son which were rare these days.


    On another day, Luca devoted his time to giving back. He supported the local charity in Clapham and even made a trip to West Borough, where they used to live.


    There, he unexpectedly ran into his old friends from that supermarket in their area, Josh and Lana. The reunion was both surprising and nostalgic, and as they caught up, Luca realized they were rekindling what could have been a lost friendship.


    When Isabella and her father arrived in London from Birmingham, Luca took her on a mini-date to an ice-skating event.


    Luckily, it wasn''t just any ice skating where everybody joined in on the ice. But in the arena, an actual skating event was being held as figure skaters danced and skated gloriously to a melody as everyone watched.


    Luca had always liked figure skaters. There was something mesmerizing about their streamlined bodies, their flexibility, the way they moved so fluidly on the ice.


    Long before all of this¡ªbefore fame, before racing¡ªwhenever he visited a sports channel, it was usually just to check if there was any figure skating broadcast.


    The reason was just because he had a celebrity crush back then.


    A Russian figure skater, two years older than him, had once captured his attention, and though time had passed, he still had a bit of admiration for the lady.


    He had turned to Isabella after telling her all of this, and she burst into laughter.


    Even Luca couldn''t help but chuckle at himself. The idea that he had once believed he could grind so hard, make money, and somehow marry the Russian skater now seemed hilariously naive.


    Looking back, he realized it was never about actually being with her. He had admired her, sure, but more than that, he had used the idea of her as motivation to keep pushing forward.


    He had thought that perhaps, if he could just figure out what exactly he had been searching for and finally grasp it, then he might win the favor of a woman with that kind of appearance and feminine status.


    Today was Christmas. Tonight was Christmas. Luca had a special night ahead of him.


    "Merry Christmas, Luca," he said to himself in the mirror. "Let''s hope Santa answers my wish."


    For the date, he was wearing a fitted black turtleneck sweater that complemented his lean frame, paired with a deep navy overcoat that added a touch of elegance.


    He had on well-tailored charcoal gray trousers, resting just above his polished black Chelsea boots. The boots were from another brand, but everything else was Casa Reyes.


    Luca styled his hair so it wasn''t too stiff yet not too messy. He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves after putting on some cologne and took a good look at his reflection.


    Suddenly, another figure''s reflection emerged from behind, stepping into his room through the open door.


    It was his mother, Mrs. Rennick, checking in to see how he was preparing for his first date.


    "Are you sure you don''t want to eat something before you go? Restaurants can serve petty meals sometimes," she said, moving closer and resting her hands on Luca''s shoulders.


    "Then I''ll order another plate until I''m full," Luca replied with a small smile. "Don''t worry, Mum."


    Mrs. Rennick nodded approvingly. "I''d like to meet her soon!"


    "Of course. You''ll like her," Luca assured, grabbing his phone, wallet, and coat jacket. "But I have to leave now," he added, glancing at his watch.


    She stepped aside as he exited his room, but she followed closely behind as they walked into the rest of the house, where the rich aroma of roasted turkey clung to every corner.


    Mallow and Sara were already there, set to dine with the Rennicks this Christmas, but at the moment, they were locked in a heated argument over who would drive Luca.


    You might ask, when did they become so eager to drive Luca¡­?


    Well, that would be because the Jaguar XKR had arrived three days ago, and at this very moment, it was sitting proudly in the driveway of the house.


    From time to time, Mallow would steal glances out the window to admire it, and when it first arrived, he had even slept over just to "guard it" from no one in particular!


    "HE''S HERE!" Mallow and Sara shouted in unison, leaping to their feet. The keys were clutched tightly in Mallow''s grasp, while Sara was still desperately trying to wrestle them away.


    "You two are still fighting over this?" Luca asked, checking his phone as he dialed a number.


    "Luca! Choose me! I''m your loyal assistant¡ªI''ve driven you everywhere! Don''t pick this brat! He''s never driven you in his life¡ªhe just wants to drive the Jaguar!" Sara hissed, still grappling for the keys.


    "Lies!" Mallow shot back, wincing as Sara''s nails dug into his arm. "I was the first person to ever drive Luca in my Volkswagen! And as a fellow man, I shall take him to his date!"


    Mrs. Rennick laughed at their ridiculous fight while Luca struggled to focus on his call amidst the chaos.


    After a brief conversation, he hung up and turned to see the two adults still squabbling over the car key.


    "It''s fine. Just give me the keys," Luca said calmly.


    Mallow hesitated, confused. "Buddy, you haven''t got your license yet. You don''t wanna spend your special night at the police station, yeah?"


    "Ha! Just give me the keys, man," Luca repeated, stretching out his hand.


    Sara eyed the finely carved piece as if it were some precious gem while Mallow reluctantly placed it in Luca''s palm.


    They all watched as he casually strolled toward the door, pausing only to receive a peck on the cheek from his mother before stepping outside.


    Little did they know, Luca had already hired a chauffeur, and the esteemed fellow was waiting right outside, ready to go.


    The Jaguar XKR was a very beautiful low-slung machine. It had sculpted curves, bold headlights, polished alloy wheels and aerodynamic lines that made it look as fast as it truly was.


    Supercharged V8 was its engine, and its deep growl was one of the most satisfying sounds Luca had ever heard.


    He sat comfortably as the chauffeur smoothly rolled the car onto the street and out of the neighborhood.


    Luca arrived at the restaurant 15 minutes early to ensure everything was perfectly in place and to collect his thoughts before the night truly began.


    He stood by the rooftop railing, overlooking the city bathed in Christmas lights and festive decorations, their warm glow reflecting off the glass dome.


    The sight was breathtaking, a perfect blend of holiday magic and urban beauty.


    The wind carried a biting chill, prophesying snowfall to come, and Luca was relieved he''d brought a coat, just in case Isabella needed it.


    As he turned slightly to his right, his eyes landed on her just as she arrived.


    She was dressed in a red satin dress that hugged her figure just right.


    The dress had an off-the-shoulder neckline, revealing her collarbones and the gentle curve of her shoulders, perfectly complementing her fair skin and that warm peach undertone.


    Luca took a deep breath as she approached. He began to wonder how he was even able to get this far.


    The skirt of the dress flared slightly at her hips, flowing down to just above her ankles. She was wearing gold heels that significantly boosted her height as she finally reached Luca.


    Luca was entranced, dazed, spellbound, but conscious enough to give that necessary early compliment required of the man.


    "Do you know Snow White?" he asked.


    "Yess," Isabella answered. "What about her?"


    "You look just like her, but more beautiful, of course," Luca said, the words flowing out naturally.


    Luca and Isabella broke tradition and shared a kiss even before the date began.

 Chapter 255 Happy New Year

    Apart from getting a girlfriend, what else had Luca accomplished in his personal life as the year drew to a close?


    For one, he had secured an occupation, a stable means of living, earning a salary that was a thousand times more than he had ever dreamed of.


    And this paycheck was only set to grow. One of the major clauses in the personal terms he had just agreed to with Nevada stated that his pay would increase from its current value to $2.5 million next year.


    This was a massive financial leap, and Luca was fully prepared to embrace and manage it.


    Even now, he could comfortably provide for himself and his family, ensuring they lacked nothing.


    Mrs. Rennick could now easily access the medications and medical care she had struggled to afford for so long. He could support Sophia through school without worry, meeting every need and even funding any future academic pursuits she wished to chase.


    And for the first time in his life, he had something substantial set aside, something he could call real savings for the future.


    But beyond financial gains, Luca also reflected on how he had grown in his relationships with others.


    This year, he had formed true friendships, new bonds far deeper than the shallow connections he once called friendships back in high school.


    Of course, not all of his relationships had thrived. He had also lost a significant friend this year, a loss that still lingered in his mind.


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    But rather than dwell on the fallout, he chose to take the lessons from it, understanding what went wrong and what he could learn moving forward. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca had also put together his very own personal team.


    He had simply began with two personnel¡ªMallow and Sara, and now, he was expanding the workforce to an authentic personal team expected of an official F1 driver.


    Luca knew that assembling a well-rounded team would be crucial to maintaining peak performance both on and off the track. This was an essential investment, regardless of the cost.


    Mallow would fully take on the role of his Manager, overseeing every aspect of his career in F1. Meanwhile, Sara would step down from her position as Personal Assistant and focus solely on managing his finances as his Financial Caretaker.


    Other key positions would be filled by additional personnel, much like how Vance had now taken on the role of PR, Brand, and Media Manager.


    His responsibilities would include handling some of Luca''s interviews and press conferences, shaping his personal brand, and securing endorsements and sponsorships.


    Luca specifically chose Vance for this role because he was a confident, outspoken man. Those were perfect attributes needed for facing the media, supporting Luca publicly, and shutting down any negative statements made against him.


    As for his Performance and Training Coach, Amir would continue in the role, though Luca mentioned that he wanted to bring in a new addition to further enhance his training regimen.


    Since Sara left the role of Personal Assistant, she helped fill in another by bringing in a candidate just like she brought in Amir.


    Luca was delighted to receive Manuela, the young lady Sara brought in. She was highly organized and efficient, with a background in sports management and prior experience assisting a professional tennis player.


    Her ability to multitask and anticipate needs made her a perfect fit for the role.


    She was also warm and approachable, very funny even from her first encounter with Luca, and always carrying an optimistic and cheerful demeanor, no matter the situation.


    Manuela was short, had wavy chestnut-brown hair and sharp hazel eyes that fit the office wear she wore.


    Luca expected to like her the most out of all the new intakes. As his Personal Assistant, she would now be the closest to him, handling his schedules, travel, accommodations, and day-to-day logistics with precision.


    For his personal medical consultant, Luca figured it made the most sense to select someone from Nevada''s medical department. Once he arrived, he''d personally choose from the many doctors available.


    He also appointed a security detail, and just like his Personal Assistant, he took an immediate liking to them. They would be the ones ensuring his safety in the unpredictable and often chaotic world of racing, especially in a passionate country like Italy.


    With all the roles assigned, Luca leaned back and took a moment to assess everything. It was all coming together smoothly.


    To set the tone for the year ahead, he decided to host a small gathering in the hotel''s courtyard, allowing everyone to acknowledge each other and their responsibilities in an informal setting.


    Luca walked toward the white table, his crisp white outfit reflecting brilliantly under the open sky. He grabbed a bottle from the ice bucket, the condensation cool against his fingertips as he poured himself a drink.


    The leaves of the palm trees above rustled gently as the cold wind swayed, making the afternoon sky look like it was already evening.


    Luca sat back in one of the seats, resting his feet on a stool as he watched Mallow take the stand, cracking jokes and telling stories. Everyone laughed¡ªexcept Sara and Vance.


    Sara wasn''t even mentally present. She had her laptop open, tapping away, too absorbed to hear a single word from Mallow.


    Vance, on the other hand, was fully attentive yet chose not to laugh. Luca found that amusing, smiling as he took a sip of his drink.


    He wondered if he could actually grow to like Mr. Vance. The man was nothing but real to his nature, and Luca appreciated real people.


    He had expected Vance to start acting all nice and friendly just to please him and everyone else, but instead, the man stuck to his foul demeanor.


    Luca took a deep breath, realizing how great life had become. Life had become so much easier, so much happier. It was almost suspicious, considering he once believed calamity had permanently set its sights on him.


    Maybe life would stay this sweet. Maybe not. No one knew what the next year held for them.


    But Luca did.


    He''d be in F1 before Max Addams, Albert Derstappen, Sean Aaronson and all of them.

 Chapter 256 - 256: Paper-thin Betrayal

    Even though the Hawthorne jet wasn''t even technically Luca''s, his access to it had significantly increased ever since he extended his one-year contract with Mrs. Hawthorne to a seven-year agreement.


    They had both settled on the understanding that if everything went smoothly during those seven years, an indefinite contract would follow.


    Luca couldn''t see any reason for things to go wrong between him and Mrs. Hawthorne, so in his mind, he was already a permanent part of her empire.


    Recently, a certain family had approached him through Mallow, offering a deal identical to the one he had with Hawthorne. However, Mallow had rejected it outright.


    Accepting such an offer would have been akin to being sponsored by competing firms in the same industry, which would completely strip away the exclusivity and prestige that came with being backed by one.


    Even in all contracts, it was strictly stated that an ambassador couldn''t engage with firms in the same category. So, Mallow hadn''t even needed to consult Luca before rejecting the offer.


    Luca was completely satisfied with Hawthorne. He couldn''t imagine anyone else being willing to hand over one of their private jets for his flights and travels. It was a privilege he didn''t take lightly.


    With the jet at their disposal, he and his personal team departed for Italy on the 2nd of January, preparing for the events of the following day.


    Before that, the new year had unfolded in all its vibrance, welcomed with grand celebrations, dazzling fireworks, and an atmosphere thick with excitement.


    It was the perfect way to mark the beginning of a fresh chapter. The new F1 season was officially set to begin in February, but the real action wouldn''t kick off until mid-March.


    When the season officially started, the full schedule would be released, and all teams would unveil their new liveries and designs for the year.


    But January still carried its own significance. January was the month of changes and transfers, though such moves were rare in motorsport.


    Unlike in other sports and their leagues, no F1 driver had plans to switch teams, and not a single one had been dropped from their seat.


    So far, Luca was the only new addition into the division. So, this was a rare shift in the otherwise stable grid for the season.


    Even though he didn''t need the reminder, he appreciated how quickly Manuela had stepped into her role, already proving herself as an efficient Personal Assistant.


    She had briefed him about their destination for the day and reminded him of Mrs. Coastfield''s call the night before. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Upon their arrival in Italy, they all checked into a single hotel, everyone settling into their respective rooms, preparing for what lay ahead.


    That night, Luca slept peacefully, knowing that by this time tomorrow, he would officially be an F1 driver.


    To ensure everything was in place, he had asked Mallow if all the agreements in the contract he was set to sign were ethical and fine with him.


    Mallow reassured him that there was nothing to worry about; he had gone through every detail and reviewed everything thoroughly.


    With that assurance, Luca had no reason not to sleep soundly.


    -------


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    Luca woke up and got going with his daily routine. He received an early Daily Quest, and finally, the system answered his long-awaited prayers.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been issued!]


    [-¡¤-COMPLETE 550 PUSH-UPS-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: Complete before 10 PM]


    [This will help enhance your upper body strength and core stability.]


    [Reward for Completing Thursday Daily Quest: (EXP)


    - Strength +1


    Reward for Completing Thursday Daily Quest: (Tool)


    - (1) Catalyst ]


    [Consequence for Failing Thursday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Arthritis]


    Finally, Luca had been given a Daily Quest with a Tuning Upgrade tool attached as a reward.


    Though it was just one Catalyst, it was still something, and even one could help a lot. Luca was eager to apply more of the new feature to his stats and enjoy the thrill of getting stronger without actually working for it.


    Then he realized the irony.


    Since Catalysts and Wrenches could only be obtained from Daily Quests and other accomplishments he successfully completed, in a way, he was still working for those stats.


    And here he was, thinking this was a free leveling-up feature.


    At 12 PM, he was fully dressed.


    Luca had chosen a very smart outfit today, courtesy of the thread and needles of Casa Reyes.


    The press would be on full capacity today, so he needed to look his best while he shook hands and put the pen on the paper.


    Even though it was a black suit, it wasn''t just any black suit. It was cut to perfection, and had this fabric sheen that reflected quality.


    Luca looked down at his Oxfords and his cufflinks before deciding everything was in place.


    Satisfied, he left his hotel room, locking the door behind him. Almost immediately, Manuela¡ªwho had been waiting¡ªstepped out of her own room and fell into step beside him as they made their way down the golden hallway toward the elevator.


    Mr. Vance was already seated in the lobby on the ground floor. When they walked past, he rose to join them, completing the group that would be present at the Grand Concordia Conference Hall, where the contract signing, broadcasted to millions, would take place.


    They got into a waiting car and drove off.


    At the Grand Concordia Conference Hall, everything was already in place.


    Outside the venue, non-press guests were guided toward the entrance by a wide staircase framed by towering marble pillars.


    Security personnel were stationed at every checkpoint, ensuring strict control and verifying that only authenticated individuals gained entry. Their presence maintained order, reinforcing the exclusivity of the event.


    True to this exclusivity, Luxury cars arrived one after another, dropping off high-profile attendees, journalists, and corporate executives.


    Among them were the representatives of Nevada HanSama, making their entrance and preparing the table and the paper for Luca.


    Even lesser representatives from rival teams had been sent in person to assess the details of this high-profile transfer and to gauge the potential threat.


    The event itself wouldn''t be long. It would be just the contract signing, an official announcement, a brief press Q&A, and a photo session. So photographers and the press worked swiftly, capturing every crucial moment from the best angles.


    Luca arrived on time, and the moment he stepped out of the car, a wave of reporters surged toward him.


    Microphones stretched in his direction, cameras flashed endlessly, and someone nearly shoved a mic straight into his nostril.


    Jesus... Luca was beginning to grasp the sheer impact and reach of F1 compared to F2. The attention was overwhelming. Experience more on My Virtual Library Empire


    Thankfully, security intervened, keeping the press at bay just as Mrs. Coastfield and a fellow colleague approached.


    They swiftly welcomed him out of the chaos, while Mr. Vance stepped up to field the relentless questions on Luca''s behalf.


    "You''re looking very smart!" Mrs. Coastfield remarked, guiding him forward. "Come along. This shouldn''t take long."


    Luca adjusted his suit and followed her into the main hall. It was a vast, elegantly arranged space already buzzing with important activity before they even entered.


    Rows and rows of white chairs lined the room, all neatly arranged and facing a marble-floored stage where the signing table awaited.


    The backdrop was a grand digital screen displaying "Nevada HanSama - Official Signing Ceremony" in bold lettering, alternating between different images of Luca''s racing highlights.


    The murmur in the room grew louder and cameras flashed faster.


    Mrs. Coastfield led him to the designated seating area at the front, where his gaze immediately locked onto Mr. Kovachev, Nevada''s team principal. The man stood beside the signing table, his eyes fixed on Luca as he approached.


    Luca had heard that Kovachev was a relatively new Team Principal, now in his third tenure. He wondered what the man thought about having him as an addition to his team.


    Judging by his composed yet appraising expression, Luca felt they might get along well.


    He extended a firm handshake to Kovachev, who reciprocated with a steady grip, then did the same with the Head Chief Engineer.


    With that, Luca and Mrs. Coastfield took their seats.


    Before opening the document, Luca''s eyes flicked toward the door, where Manuela stood silently, watching.


    A few seconds later, Vance finally arrived, taking his seat to Luca''s right.


    A driver was always expected to have at least one "trusted" individual present.


    Mrs. Coastfield offered him a warm smile as she held out the pen.


    Luca took it, the weight of it heavier in his fingers than it should have been.


    Flipping to the first signing area, he took a deep breath.


    This was it for Luca. Ever since he acquired the system, every race and every session was to push his body beyond the limits to get to this moment.


    Now, he was about to seal his fate in Formula 1, not as a spectator, not as a hopeful, but as a professional driver in a great team.


    Luca let out a slow exhale. Then, gripping the pen a little tighter, he signed the first section.


    He heard a subtle sigh of relief from Mrs. Coastfield. The sigh was almost drowned out by the rapid shutter clicks of the cameras, but he chose to ignore it and focus on the contract.


    There were five designated areas to sign in total. He had just signed the second after carefully reading through that section.


    Every F1 team principal, manager, and investor was watching the live broadcast. But none were watching more intently than Nevada''s owners, investors, and upper management.


    To them, Luca was signing too slowly.


    And just as they feared, he paused at the final empty space, his brow twitching.


    What''s this?


    Luca''s eyes narrowed as he reread the section carefully.


    Mrs. Coastfield pointed at the space. "That''s the last one, honey. Sign."


    Her voice barely registered.


    Luca was too focused, his mind replaying every line he had just read. And now, he was immensely grateful that he had taken his time.


    This wasn''t what they had discussed.


    Something was off.


    Luca''s fingers loosened around the pen as realization set in.


    This clause... this wasn''t in personal terms. This wasn''t what he agreed to.


    His chest tightened.


    I¡­ I can''t sign this.


    Mrs. Coastfield''s smile wavered slightly. "Anything wrong, Luca?" she asked. "Please, sign."


    --------------


    ...As part of the contractual agreement between Luca Rennick and Nevada HanSama Racing, the driver acknowledges and agrees that, effective immediately upon signing, his official racing name shall be changed from ''Luca Rennick'' to ''Luca Michelotto.'' This name change will be reflected in all official team communications, sponsorship materials, FIA registration, race broadcasts, promotional events, and all other public and private documentation associated with his participation in Formula 1 under Nevada HanSama Racing.


    --------------


    The press wondered why Luca was stalling, their murmurs growing as anticipation filled the room.


    Then, finally, he lifted his head from the document, confirming their suspicions that something was wrong.


    Even though Luca''s voice was low, the microphones caught every word, broadcasting it loud and clear.


    "I''m not signing this."

 Chapter 257 - 257: Paper-thin Betrayal. 2

    "What''s wrong?" Mrs. Coastfield asked again as Luca''s eyes locked onto hers.


    "It states that my official racing name will be changed to ''Luca Michelotto,''" Luca said. "It''s not just for branding, but for everything including registration, broadcasts, contracts, even personal documentation tied to the team."


    Even though he was speaking softly, Luca was surprised when Mrs. Coastfield pleaded with him to lower his tone to a whisper.


    "But this is not what we agreed on," he urged as she pulled him lower.


    By now, Vance and everyone else in the room had taken notice of the issue, their eyes turning toward Luca, who was bent sideward, listening to Coastfield''s whisper in his ear.


    "It is very crucial that that is part of the deal," she told Luca.


    "If this was meant to be part of the deal, it should''ve been discussed beforehand. It wasn''t," Luca replied. "I won''t sign something I wasn''t prepared for. My name¡ªwho I am¡ªisn''t something I can just sign away."


    Mr. Kovachev, who was unaware of the contract''s contents, was stunned to see a problem arising. He leaned in and asked Coastfield about it.


    But Coastfield acted as if everything was under control. Yet, the reality was the opposite as she was practically failing to persuade Luca to sign the last section.


    One of the journalists in the crowd gathered enough courage to ask a question.


    "Luca, is there an issue with the contract?"


    Luca was about to lift his head to properly address the question, but Coastfield pulled him down again, urging him to ignore them while she explained.


    "It is a very important clause, one that holds the foundation of this transfer, Luca," she whispered urgently. "Please sign, and we can discuss it later with the management in a room with fewer microphones and cameras, of course."


    Luca''s brow twitched at that absurd suggestion. He knew they owed him an explanation for that clause, but not after he had signed everything.


    He shook his head, offering a better suggestion that they could postpone the signing until every misunderstanding that had just erupted was cleared.


    Mrs. Coastfield grew desperate as the murmurs in the room turned into shuffling and slowly into noise.


    Coastfield, along with every executive at the control unit of Nevada HanSama watching, had half-expected Luca to overlook this clause.


    By the time he realized it, they assumed it would be too late, and he''d have no choice but to cough up release funds.


    But now, it seemed Luca had a strong head.


    "Michelotto is a better name, Luca," Coastfield said in desperation as Luca prepared to shift the document aside.


    "How? Is there something wrong with Rennick? A foul meaning to it?"


    Coastfield pulled Luca down again before exhaling deeply. She realized that if she could at least give him half the explanation for this clause right then and there, maybe it could change his mind and allow the event to carry on peacefully.


    "The board decided that the name ''Rennick'' stirs up old memories¡­ memories that might not be in the best interest of the team and fans moving forward," she said, lowering her voice even more. "It''s not about anything being wrong with the name, Luca. It''s just¡­ sensitive history, things that could affect the image we''re trying to build with this new partnership."


    Luca lifted his gaze, locking eyes with her. His stare was so piercing, so unwavering, that Coastfield had to look away.


    Sensitive history.


    Luca had never heard anything about this before, but there was no doubt in his mind it had to do with his father''s death on the track.


    And how many lies after lies?


    From Michelotto is a better name to sensitive history. It was as if Nevada HanSama was doing their best to make Luca distrust them even more.


    After this, that trust would be at an all-time low.


    To keep himself from saying anything sharp or reckless, Luca simply repeated his stance, saying he wasn''t signing the contract.


    He made sure to say it loud enough, turning slightly to face the cameras, his eyes slicing through the lens¡ªthrough the TV¡ªstraight into the eyes of everyone watching, especially those involved.


    He then suggested postponing the event and rediscussing the deal. But until then¡­ S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca stood up, adjusting his suit¡ªthe suit that had served no purpose today.


    "I will take my leave," he said, turning away from his seat and from Coastfield who bit her lip.


    The moment Luca pushed back his chair, the hall exploded into chaos. Your next read is at My Virtual Library Empire


    Everyone surged forward with their microphones and cameras, hurling questions at him.


    "Luca! Luca! Is there a conflict with the contract?"


    "What exactly did Nevada HanSama try to change?"


    "Are you walking away from the deal completely?"


    Luca didn''t answer a single question. He simply turned and walked toward the exit.


    Vance was on his feet instantly, falling into step beside him as they walked down the stage and out to the exit under the dim, cloudy sky.


    The chaos only escalated after that as all the journalists scrambled to follow, shoving past each other with their microphones and cameras raised high.


    Security struggled to contain the rush, but it was futile as everyone wanted a piece of Luca''s reaction that would surely fuel the season''s beginning.


    Luca really hoped he was during the right thing as he exited the venue, the press following. Suddenly, he and Vance paused as the press outside were already mobilized, swarming toward them.


    Eventually, Luca was surrounded and he sighed. Flashes burst from all directions, blinding and relentless. Questions flew at him from every angle.


    "Why does Nevada HanSama want to remove ''Rennick''?"


    "Is there a reason they don''t want your real name in F1?"


    "Is Rennick your real name?"


    "Luca, by any chance... are you the son of Late Aldo Rennick?"


    Dino and Chico, Luca''s security detail, were already on the scene, working to clear a path to the waiting car.


    But the sheer number of reporters made it nearly impossible, even for men as strong as them. The press was relentless, shoving microphones and cameras forward, demanding answers.


    Luca knew he couldn''t escape without addressing at least one of their questions, any one he could answer accurately.


    His heart pounded. He was well aware that his face was being broadcast live on countless screens, and later, it would be replayed for those who had missed it.


    Taking a steady breath, he spoke. "I can''t comment on Nevada''s stated clause," he began.


    Luckily, the chaotic crowd quieted slightly, eager to hear more.


    "And yes," Luca continued, "Rennick is my real last name." He paused, inhaling deeply before delivering the final blow. "And Aldo was my father. He died when I was a boy. That''ll be all."


    But it wasn''t enough. Not for the press, not for the cameras.


    Dino and Chico weren''t having it. They pushed forward, giving Luca just enough space to slip into the back seat of the car.


    Reporters swarmed the vehicle, crowding the windows, their cameras flashing as if their presence alone could stop it from moving.


    Then, to their dismay, venue security arrived. This security was armed, authoritative, and determined on clearing the way. With their intervention, the car finally reversed out of the parking lot, leaving the chaos behind.


    Luca exhaled and turned his head to the right, meeting Manuela''s quiet gaze. She had been watching him closely, analyzing every movement and every expression he made once he got into the car.


    Without a word, she offered him a handkerchief. "You''re sweating in winter."


    Luca let out a small laugh, accepting it. He wiped his face dry.

 Chapter 258 - 258: Paper-thin Betrayal. 3

    On the ride back to the hotel, Luca asked Vance if he knew anything about that particular clause in the contract and had chosen not to tell him.


    Vance said he knew nothing about it and that this came as a shock to him as well. But that was a lie.


    Mr. Vance did know because Mallow had told him.


    Mallow had approached him on the night of the New Year as they stood under the night sky illuminated by fireworks. He had a drink in one hand and the other in his pocket.


    Mallow told him he had a hunch Luca might disagree with that term, and if he did, it might cause some trouble.


    Vance asked him why he had agreed to let it be part of the deal, and Mallow answered that WAS the deal, and Nevada would not agree to have Luca behind the wheel if he still bore the name Rennick.


    Mallow did not know why they wanted this, but he had agreed to it regardless, keeping the best in mind for his client.


    And when Vance asked him if he had told Luca before agreeing to that, he said no. Vance asked him if he would tell Luca that he had agreed to it, and Mallow grunted, sighing deeply.


    Of course, Vance was smart enough to not mention a word about this to Luca. It was better off if Luca knew nothing about all this coming from him because it would not change a thing either way.


    The entire blame rested on Mallow, and even he could feel it the moment he watched from the TV as Luca rose from the contractual seat and left Coastfield and the table.


    He silently went to Luca''s hotel room and waited until their return. And when they returned, Luca had some words to share with Mallow.


    He was not even disappointed at Nevada, for anybody could set up any kind of deal they wanted. It all rested in the hands of the other party to reject or accept.


    Mallow greeted him once Luca walked into the hotel room.


    Luca was startled but regained himself, stood at the door for a while, and then calmly walked in to remove his suit.


    Luca unbuttoned the suit jacket, shrugged it off his shoulders and tossed it onto a couch. Then he loosened his tie and swiftly pulled it free.


    "I guess you know why I''m back so early," he said to Mallow as he unfastened the cuffs of his shirt and rolled them up.


    Mallow nodded. "I do, and I''m sorry for not telling you," he said. "It''s totally my fault. But I only had your best interest at heart."


    "I rather not drive at all than to drive as Luca Michelotto," Luca pointed out. "I''m sure you knew this but you went ahead."


    "It''s a nice name."


    "It''s disrespect," Luca corrected as he began to pace. "Let''s say I accepted this and have my own very name changed just to be in F1. Do you think that''ll be the last time I''ll be manipulated?"


    Mallow let out a slow breath, rubbing his temple as he leaned back in the chair. "I really thought you''d at least consider it," he mumbled, hoping Luca wouldn''t hear. But Luca did and chose not to respond.


    "What do we do now? We need to secure your future in F1, and this was a confirmation contract that you''re a Nevada driver now. Everything else has been settled."


    Luca stopped pacing. "Of course, I still want to drive a Ferrari, but I won''t lose my dignity for it. All they have to do is adjust that clause."


    Mallow spread his arms apart, urging Luca to see reason. "That is no ordinary clause! That is a major criterion, Luca! They WANT your name changed. If you don''t accept it, you might be a driver in the team, but you WON''T drive."


    Luca stared at Mallow, his mind replaying Coastfield''s words about "stirring old memories." He wondered what the heck this was all about and what the name Rennick had done.


    In deeper thought, he began to wonder what the heck his father had done that had caused them to treat his family name this way.


    Before Luca could speak again, there was a knock on the door, and Manuela''s voice emerged from behind. Luca asked her to come in, and she barged in swiftly, holding out a phone for him to answer its ongoing call.


    Luca had a few guesses about who might be on the other end of the call. He still asked Manuela anyway, and she answered that the man had introduced himself as Almansa and insisted she put him on the call with Luca immediately.


    Luca was completely stunned. Mr. Almansa was definitely not on his guess list.


    He accepted the phone call while Mallow and Manuela didn''t need to be told to remain dead silent.


    Mr. Almansa wasted no time cutting to the chase, his voice hoarse and tough.


    He specifically and sternly instructed Luca to put his clothes back on if he had removed them, hop into his car, and return to the Grand Concordia Conference.


    There, he would sign the contract and tell the press that he had only been bluffing and that he was never Aldo Rennick''s son and that the name Rennick was simply a tribute to the legend he admired.


    It was as if Luca had fallen even more silent than Mallow and Manuela as the phone remained pressed to his ear.


    He was still trying to process what he had just heard from Mr. Almansa. The same old man who once made a comment, "Look at him. He even looks more silly than his father did!" was now instructing him to publicly denounce his own father if he wanted to drive for their team.


    The line went dead, and Luca slowly lowered the phone before handing it back to Manuela.


    Almost immediately, his own phone rang. It was Mrs. Coastfield. He barely glanced at the screen before dismissing the call and walking straight into his bathroom. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He turned on the water, letting the steam rise as he prepared a hot shower while Mallow murmured with Manuela what might have been said over the call.


    Luca on the other hand, was doing anything but putting on his clothes and returning to the conference hall. He remembered he had a Daily Quest with a nice reward attached.

 Chapter 259 - 259: Unearthed Corruption

    What followed was the biggest lawsuit in the history of motorsport, perhaps the most significant case Formula racing had ever seen.


    The governing body, the F¨¦d¨¦ration Internationale de l''Automobile (FIA), had filed a lawsuit against one of the top teams in the Formula 1 division, bringing five serious charges against them:


    1. Fraud and Misrepresentation


    2. Sporting Corruption & Breach of FIA Regulations


    3. Endangering Safety & Negligence


    4. Financial Misconduct & Embezzlement


    5. Tampering with Official FIA Records S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    You might be wondering where all these allegations stemmed from. It all began the moment Luca publicly revealed that he was Aldo Rennick''s son.


    If Nevada was found guilty on all five counts, they would face a minimum five-year ban from participating in Formula 1, along with massive fines.


    Mr. Lema?tre, who had long known the truth about Luca''s parentage, was the most delighted to witness the broadcast. As a co-owner of a rival team, he saw an opportunity to eliminate a major competitor.


    Seizing the moment, he facilitated the prosecution, presenting enough damning evidence that the FIA could not overlook.


    The world was in shock when Luca made his declaration. Years ago, it had been widely accepted that Aldo Rennick was unmarried and had no children.


    Even official FIA driver records stated as much. However, an investigation revealed that those records had been altered once at some point.


    And since nothing could ever be truly erased from a computer system, the original data was retrieved.


    It revealed that Aldo Rennick had, in fact, been the father of two children, one still being breastfed and the other a little boy.


    Contrary to his officially recorded single status, he had actually been happily married for six years before his death.


    This was where the charge of Tampering with Official FIA Records came into play. Aldo could not have altered these records on his own; such a change would have required the involvement of his team and several FIA clerks.


    At first, it was believed this would be the only charge Nevada would face and they could easily give a simple small fine and resolve the issue, but as more investigations were fired from their enemies who seized the predicament, things were looking slim for the Red Stallions.


    Some reporters wished they had asked Luca a very important question back then. But he was too swift to get into the car, and ever since then, Luca hadn''t made a public appearance.


    "Luca, you grew up in a struggling household, yet your father was a seasoned F1 driver. How do you explain that contradiction? Shouldn''t a champion''s family have lived in comfort?"


    This was a question that even bothered the President of the FIA, Mr. Avil¨¦s, and his board, prompting them to give the go-ahead to work hand in hand with the Italian government to investigate Aldo''s financial records.


    Nevada HanSama could only sit in silence, sulking and gritting their teeth as everything was uncovered little by little. Luca, on the other hand, had resumed tough training sessions in the gym, occasionally getting fresh news of everything.


    It didn''t take long before the investigators unearthed the truth behind Aldo Rennick''s financial downfall and the hidden dealings of Nevada HanSama. The deeper they dug, the uglier it became.


    They uncovered that Aldo had invested 17 million dollars of his own money into the "development and maintenance" of a certain entity, a sum that should have never come from a driver''s pocket.


    Records also showed that Aldo Rennick had taken out a sum total of $15 million loan, but its investment seemed questionable as the funds repeatedly ended up in closed accounts.


    However, further investigation revealed that these so-called closed accounts were actually a joint account shared between Aldo Rennick and Nevada HanSama fifteen years ago. The two had combined their funds, which were ultimately and consistently forwarded to their engine supplier¡ªFerrari.


    As the investigation deepened, with Ferrari''s cooperation, the charge of Financial Misconduct & Embezzlement officially held.


    Ferrari Scuderia quickly spilled the truth, despite receiving numerous confidential and classified calls regarding the matter.


    They knew better than to entangle themselves in a lawsuit. If telling the truth was their way out, they would take it. After all, they had merely used the funds to do what was said as agreed at the time.


    The investigation questioned this "agreement" and it led to the full story and the start of everything.


    In the last generation of Formula 1 racing, HiCEs¡ªor any engine exceeding the standard power rating of that era¡ªwere strictly prohibited.


    The FIA had enforced this rule to maintain fairness and limit the financial gap between teams, preventing wealthier constructors from gaining an unfair advantage.


    In fact, the engines were considered deadly back then and "untamed" for control with any chassis back then.


    Despite the ban on HiCEs, wealthy teams had already begun considering acquiring these powerful machines as long-term assets.


    They anticipated that, in the future, production and development costs would skyrocket, making early investments a strategic advantage.


    Nevada HanSama was among these forward-thinking teams. Within a year, they had discreetly obtained one of these engines.


    However, such an expensive asset required extensive insurance and maintenance, making its upkeep even more costly.


    Meanwhile, Luca''s father, Aldo Rennick, was at the peak of his career in that fateful F1 season. Ranked P5, he was just four points away from P4.


    Despite multiple race wins, Aldo had never secured the title of F1 World Champion. It was a reality that gnawed at him relentlessly.


    He was ambitious to the point of obsession, his love for racing bordering on desperation.


    He needed to climb the rankings!


    The upcoming race in Austria presented a rare opportunity as Harlan Owen, the championship leader, wouldn''t be on the grid.


    With only 23 points separating Aldo from P1, the season remained wide open. If there was ever a moment to take a risk, it was now.


    Determined, Aldo approached his team principal, Mr. Schafer, and the Nevada HanSama management, pleading for the twentieth time in ten months to be allowed to race with one of their Super engines as they called it that time, the very ones the FIA had banned.


    Mr. Schafer, recognizing Aldo''s hunger for victory, strongly supported him and joined in persuading Nevada''s higher-ups.


    However, the issue wasn''t just about fitting the engine into Aldo''s chassis and ignoring the FIA''s rules.


    That super engine was an irreplaceable asset, and any damage or exposure could result in a massive financial and reputational loss for the team.


    To minimize risk, they decided to keep their first HiCE untouched and instead fund the production of a new one for Aldo, even securing backup funding for potential repairs and refinements.


    Aldo, blinded by his desire for victory, emptied his life''s savings to contribute to the project. He convinced himself that with the right car, he could win the championship, regain his investment through sponsorships, and reclaim his wealth.


    Little did he know, his desperate pursuit of victory was going to become his downfall and the cause of his death.

 Chapter 260 - 260: Unearthed Corruption. 2

    The repercussions weren''t just limited to the team and the general body alone. When the Federation uncovered the full story that had been hidden for years, those directly involved faced personal prosecutions.


    Charges of regulatory fraud, financial misconduct, and conspiracy were officially filed, with further investigations underway to determine the extent of individual liabilities.


    And these individuals under scrutiny included Nevada HanSama''s top management and key decision-makers from fifteen years ago.


    This list comprised the Team Principal at the time, as well as senior executives and financial officers who had facilitated or were aware of the unauthorized use of the Super engine (HiCE).


    The Nevada ownership board, which had approved the secret funding scheme, also found itself entangled in the investigation.


    The team''s financial director then who was long retired now faced scrutiny for embezzlement and falsification of records, while his fellow retired senior engineers and technical heads were now questioned at their homes for their involvement in bypassing FIA regulations. Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Former Team Principal of Nevada HanSama fifteen years ago, who had eagerly supported Aldo and also helped in facilitating everything, was summoned for questioning.


    His involvement in the illegal acquisition and use of the HiCE made him a primary suspect in the case of regulatory fraud.


    And in this case, Mr. Schafer found himself entangled in yet another predicament as the new year began.


    He and Isabella arrived in Italy for the hearing, accompanied by other executives who had been involved in the events fifteen years ago. The world was stunned by the names on the list.


    Luca, however, wasn''t surprised when Mr. Almansa was revealed to be among them.


    The moment he had seen the man and his old age, he had a strong sense that Almansa must have done questionable things to reach his current position and questionable things while in his position.


    This revelation made Luca try to imagine the past conversations he had with Aldo about the ongoing matter.


    -------


    Mr. Schafer and Isabella booked rooms at a different hotel, though still within the same city region as Luca.


    Believing they had much to discuss, Luca decided to visit Mr. Schafer now that it was publicly known that he was the son of the very driver Schafer had mentored and coached, only to meet his tragic end.


    Luca wasn''t there to condemn him. He wanted to speak with the only man who might have truly understood his father''s mindset during that time. And, of course, he intended to see Isabella as well.


    Isabella seemed to be the only bridge between Luca and Mr. Schafer, and without her, the old man might have torn Luca apart by now and vice versa.


    Mr. Schafer flat-out refused to see him, blaming Luca for bringing destruction upon Nevada HanSama. He insisted that Luca''s actions would lead to the team''s downfall.


    But with Isabella''s persistent pleas, he finally relented. Taking a risk, she brought them together in one room before quietly stepping out, leaving them alone to talk.


    Mr. Schafer gave Luca a long, scrutinizing look. "I have not approved of you and my daughter. You''re just a trial for her," he said coldly.


    Luca leaned back into a chair. "That''s great," he replied, watching as Mr. Schafer wandered over to the bar at the side of the room.


    The old man poured himself a drink, taking his time before clearing his throat. "You do realize Nevada and all their fans will hate you forever¡­ even Italy will despise you. We were this nation''s original team, and you, a single boy, have singlehandedly demolished us."


    Luca nodded. He understood the magnitude of what had happened. The weight of it wasn''t lost on him, it bothered him, even if just a little. But at least he was aware.


    "I never intended for this to happen," he admitted. "All I did was refuse to renounce my last name. I don''t think you would have done it either."


    Mr. Schafer chuckled as he took a sip from his glass. He nodded slightly at Luca''s last statement, silently acknowledging that even he wouldn''t throw away his last name and dignity so easily.


    But then, he pointed at Luca, singling him out. "But you should. Especially when your father was a fool."


    Luca was taken aback, momentarily stunned. This wasn''t the start he expected, but he went along with it. "You call him a fool, yet you coached him?"


    Mr. Schafer gave him a sharp look, as if the question was ridiculous.


    "Does that change anything? I coached a fool. Your father was a damn fool. And as much as I hate to admit it¡ª" he exhaled heavily, "¡ªyou''re far better than that scalawag."


    He''s dead. At least show some respect.


    "But the investigation says you supported him through all those mistakes."


    "I did at first!" Schafer suddenly yelled. "You should have seen what they did pairing that damn engine with an ''80s chassis!"


    He shook his head in frustration. "Aldo claimed he could control it, that the only real difference was its explosive horsepower. But the first time he drove it in training? I knew there was no taming that monster. I told him to drop it all, forget about it, and head into Austria clean."


    Luca''s mind drifted, picturing his father struggling on a training track, trying to handle the raw speed of a HiCE-powered car with a chassis that simply couldn''t keep up.


    "So, you advised my father to risk everything and to gamble his entire career just to top the standings back then. And it wasn''t until you saw the dangers firsthand that you finally came to your senses?"


    Mr. Schafer stared at Luca over the rim of his glass. Luca''s words cut deep, and he knew they were true.


    Until he had seen the sheer, uncontrollable power of that Super engine, he hadn''t fully grasped the mistake they were making.


    Schafer sighed, shaking his head. "Maybe that''s why things have been going south for me¡­"


    Luca straightened up in his seat. This was exactly why he was here¡ªto help. Help not ''Mr. Schafer'', but to help ''Isabella''s father.''


    "How much are you being fined?"


    "None of your business."


    "Of course it is," Luca shot back. "Do you realize you are speaking to the son of the very driver you failed to protect? Isn''t it the work of the team principal to shield his driver? To guide him, to make sure he doesn''t crash and burn not physically but mentally?"


    Luca understood the nature of this sport. It was a very tense sport with intensity and the relentless pursuit of victory. In that heat, terrible mistakes were bound to happen.


    "How much are you being fined?" he asked again.


    Mr. Schafer hesitated before finally muttering, "Seven." He scowled as if he had just told Luca a very big secret.


    Luca nodded, absorbing the information. "Have you managed to pay anything yet?"


    He expected a firm no. After all, Mr. Schafer was as good as broke after what had happened to him last year. The financial strain had drained him, and Luca doubted he''d be able to handle this one.


    "More than half," Schafer said, surprisingly confident. "And don''t you dare ask me where it came from."


    Luca wasn''t interested in the source¡ªat least, not initially. He had been prepared to offer his own help to cover the rest. But as his mind worked through the situation, a deep frown formed on his face.


    He began to recall his recent calls with Isabella, noticing that she hadn''t been sounding as exuberant as she usually did.


    Whenever Luca asked if something was wrong, she would momentarily cheer up and brighten her tone, only to sound down again in their next conversation.


    He found this strange, especially since just a few weeks ago, she had been overjoyed after her successful idealistic trade with Jackson Racing.


    Realizing exactly where Schafer had gotten his money, Luca shot up from his seat, his expression dark with an emotion he rarely ever felt¡ªrage.


    "No, no, no. YOU WILL GIVE ISABELLA BACK HER MONEY!"


    Schafer jolted, genuinely startled by the sudden outburst. But what truly shocked him was how Luca had figured it out. He had explicitly made Isabella promise not to tell anyone.


    Now, he couldn''t help but wonder just how close she and Luca had gotten.


    Recovering his composure, Schafer simply took another sip of his drink and swallowed.


    "She''s my daughter. She chose to give it to me." He fixed Luca with a cold stare. "And you don''t have a say in this. Sit down."


    Luca held Schafer''s stare for a long moment before taking a deep breath.


    Luca knew the old man was right. He had no say in the matter. But knowing that Schafer had swayed his own daughter into giving up her rightful share of Grid Edge''s benefits didn''t sit well with him.


    It was wrong to exploit her like that. It was wrong, plain and simple.


    Still, Luca reminded himself why he was here¡ªnot to condemn, but to help. He exhaled, filling his lungs before finally sitting down. "I think she deserves better as a father," he remarked, shaking his head.


    Schafer scoffed, letting out a short laugh. "Coming from someone with an even worse father. Did you set up this meeting just so we could take shots at our families?"


    "No," Luca answered flatly. "I came to help with your fine. Whatever''s left, forward it to me¡ªI''ll cover it."


    Helping Schafer was probably the last thing Luca ever wanted to do.


    But he had relationship obligations now, and the longer Isabella saw her father tangled up in this mess, the more sadness, depression and frustration would creep in.


    Besides, it wasn''t like this would put a real dent in his finances. And IF it softened Schafer''s unchangeable opinion of him, then it was an added bonus.


    Regardless, Luca wasn''t giving him a choice.

 Chapter 261 - 261: The Madman In Austria

    FLASHBACK/ 15 YEARS AGO


    Race Day: Oct. 24, RBR Circuit, Spielberg, Austria.


    "...A very good afternoon to all motorsport fans across the globe! Welcome to the Austrian Grand Prix, here at the legendary RBR Circuit in Spielberg! It''s a crisp autumn day in the Styrian hills, and we are set for what promises to be an electrifying showdown...!"


    Back then, the crowds in the stands weren''t as massive as they are now, but they still roared with excitement as the Austrian Grand Prix broadcast kicked off.


    "...The championship battle is tighter than ever, and today''s race could very well decide the fate of the title contenders! Two races left to glory!"


    Just as Luca had his own pre-race ritual of listening to heavy metal and instrumentals, Aldo had his own peculiar way of preparing.


    The Nevada crew were used to it by now. They always prepared a bucket of ice-cold water. It was something Aldo insisted on before every race.


    He believed the shock of freezing water heightened his senses, snapping him into full concentration.


    The Austrian Grand Prix was no different. This time, he immersed his face, hands, and even his feet into the icy depths.


    Mr. Schafer, in his late fifties at the time, had just been passing by the uniform room when he caught sight of Aldo seated on a bench, his head engulfed by the stainless-steel bucket.


    He clicked his tongue thoughtfully before moving on, paying little mind to it. The garage was already filled with activity as the announcement came through¡ªhalf an hour till lights out.


    Georg Nygaard, Aldo''s teammate, walked in and sat beside him, waiting patiently until Aldo finally pulled his head out of the water.


    Droplets streamed down his face as he tilted his head back, inhaling deeply as the icy shock coursed through his system. His hands clenched and unclenched, adjusting to the numbing cold.


    "Ten extra dips today," Georg noted, his voice coming out with concern. "You''ll definitely catch a cold."


    Aldo merely nodded. He wanted to feel as cold and numb as possible while he drove today. Georg understood why. That was exactly what worried him.


    Aldo set the bucket aside and stood up, beginning to dress for the race. Georg, still watching with a tinge of pity, followed his movements.


    To this day, even in Luca''s era, Aldo Rennick remained the tallest recorded F1 driver to have ever competed on the track.


    At 6 feet 4 inches, he towered over most of his peers, a height even Luca couldn''t attain.


    Many labeled Aldo a ginger, but even he couldn''t say for sure whether his hair was brown or red. It sat somewhere in between, a deep reddish-brown hue.


    With his hairline now fully receded, his sharp, lanky features gave him an older, almost gaunt appearance.


    One might have wondered how Mrs. Rennick ever chose to wed Aldo. Her beauty had solely passed down strongly to both Sophia and Luca.


    While Luca had inherited some of Aldo''s recognizable traits¡ªlike his freckles¡ªhis hair was a pure, unmistakable brown, just like his mother''s.


    Aldo dressed in silence, lost in thought as the sound of commentary, announcements, and the roaring grandstands filled the air around him.


    Georg followed suit, getting dressed quietly beside him. No words were needed. Both of them knew exactly what this afternoon had in store for them.


    When they were through, they headed out to get ready for the race.


    Nevada HanSama sat in second place in the standings below Velox Hispania. With good finishing points from both Aldo and Georg, they had a real shot at taking the lead, especially with Owen absent.


    So, the illicit use of the HiCE that day wasn''t just about Aldo''s personal ambition for first place. It would push Nevada HanSama to the top of the grid. So this was going to benefit both team and driver.


    Aldo and Georg entered the garage, where the crew quickly scrambled toward them for last-minute checks. Their eyes shifted to the marshals conducting inspections on both Ferraris.


    The marshals'' job was solely to ensure the cars were in safe working condition; they weren''t responsible for verifying whether the machines met regulations.


    A full scrutiny would be required for that, but there was no time. It was generally assumed that all teams adhered to the rules.


    Once the marshals were done, they nodded in approval, exchanged a few words with Mr. Schafer and the then-head engineer¡ªwho was late now¡ªbefore taking their leave.


    Aldo and Georg walked toward Mr. Schafer and the Head Engineer who were standing still, staring at the Ferrari before them.


    Georg''s Ferrari sat off to the side, but Aldo''s was the center of attention.


    The two drivers joined them, gazing at the chassis as if they could somehow see the engine through it. But all that met their eyes were the sharp lines and sleek design of the single-seater, painted in imperial red with streaks of gold and white, Aldo''s #12 boldly brandished across its body.


    Back then, the designs of single-seaters were significantly different from what they were now. The cars had a more aggressive, raw appearance, with wider rear tires and lower, flatter noses.


    The aerodynamic philosophy was simpler and very easy to draw on paper with a few straight lines and circles. They were rigid and less sculpted than the modern day ones.


    Aldo''s Ferrari embodied this era, its high side pods giving it a muscular stance, its rear wing tall and boxy compared to the sleek, compact designs of today.


    The front wing was simpler compared to the multi-element configuration and curvature of the modern day cars now. And they hugged the ground more, meaning they were lower.


    Even the steering wheel was small, cluttered with only essential buttons and no digital dashboard.


    It was obvious chassis technology didn''t evolve hand in hand with engine technology. Because just from this description, one could tell this was an unreasonable idea.


    Mr. Schafer looked at Aldo, repeating what he had been saying for the past two weeks. "There is no need to push this too far, Aldo. You already have the pace without it. You don''t need to take the risk."


    "If I don''t, then what was the point of developing it?"


    "Bullocks. It was never meant to be used in an actual race. Just controlled tests, simulations¡ª"


    "Even in simulations your hands trembled."


    "Then why did we perfect it? Why did we make it?" Aldo interrupted, his tone sharper now. "Why did we refine it to the point where we know exactly how much advantage it gives? We''ve come this far, and now you want me to hold back?"


    Mr. Schafer walked up to Aldo with a deep frown, his posture tense. He had to tilt his head up slightly to meet Aldo''s gaze¡ªsomething that always irritated him.


    Schafer spoke slowly, enunciating each word with the kind of weight that made it clear he wasn''t just saying this for Aldo to hear, but for him to remember. Remember now, and remember when the car would become a beast barely in his control.


    "Make sure you keep the clauses in mind, now and while you''re driving. If you mess up, I won''t hesitate to tell your son that you were a fool."


    Aldo didn''t even flinch. His expression remained unreadable as he met Schafer''s glare head-on. "I don''t have a son," he said simply. "You said I should keep the clauses in mind."


    Before Schafer could retort, the overhead speakers crackled to life.


    "...Five minutes till lights out! Drivers to their cars! Five minutes till the formation lap!"


    A rush of movement followed in the garage. Engineers and mechanics made their final checks, fastening panels, securing fuel lines, and ensuring every system was ready.


    "...Track temperature holding steady at 14 degrees Celsius¡­ Wind speeds unchanged at 12 km/h from the northwest¡­ All cars cleared from scrutineering, grid formation proceeding on schedule¡­"


    Schafer shook his head, exhaling sharply. All he could see in Aldo''s eyes was a man who fully understood the lethal consequences of driving such a machine today, yet chose to anyway.


    They had already predicted several disastrous outcomes if he failed to pit at the right time or lost control of the chassis.


    Aldo could quite literally be roasted alive in the cockpit. The HiCE''s extreme thermal output meant that prolonged exposure to its heat buildup would turn the cockpit into an oven, melting the very protective layers designed to shield him.


    If the energy output surged beyond safe limits, the chassis itself could rupture mid-race, sending shards of carbon fiber flying at lethal speeds. A fuel line compromised under such strain would mean instant detonation.


    Even if the car held together physically, there was the sheer G-force to consider. The enhanced acceleration could push Aldo''s body past its limits, causing blackouts, micro-fractures in his ribs, or even tearing muscle fibers under the strain.


    And yet, once it was grid time, Aldo still climbed into the cockpit, as if none of it mattered. Only victory. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 262 - 262: The Madman In Austria. 2

    Aldo attained P3 in the qualifying session before the race, so he sat on the second row of the grid as all twenty drivers lined up, shimmering under the bright Austrian sky.


    He gripped his wheel tighter as he studied the drivers and cars before him, his visor helping him mellow the bright atmosphere.


    C¨¦sar Albano of Outback Performance was at pole, followed by Louis Hartmann of Velox Hispania, ready to put on a performance in his teammate''s absence, substituted by another younger driver.


    "...Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Spielberg! The Austrian Grand Prix is just moments away, and what a grid we have today...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The grid girls had long been removed from the sport, but the pre-race ceremonies remained elaborate. Back then, every Grand Prix felt like... a World Cup match, and this was what the FIA was trying to recreate in Luca''s own era.


    Aldo sat calmly in his Ferrari, staring out to the track that awaited them with 50 Laps, trying to zero down his focus. But he was unsuccessful.


    He tried to feel numb, but he couldn''t. He could feel it. He could feel the ThunderKat''s rumble like an earthquake that unsettled no one else but him.


    Even from its raw power while idle, anyone could tell it was illicit and unforgiving. The only High-Intensity Combustion Engine on track, a secret only a handful within Nevada knew about.


    It was a weapon that could tear through the grid if wielded properly¡­ or destroy everything if mishandled. It wasn''t FIA-approved, wasn''t meant to be here. But here it was.


    **Let''s keep comms clear**


    "Copy," Aldo replied.


    **Copy** Georg, at P6, responded. From his position, he could only stare at Aldo''s gearbox, waiting to see how he''d launch out of his grid box once the lights went out.


    One of the ThunderKat HiCE''s special features was its grid bursts¡ªmind-blowing grid bursts.


    Mr. Schafer considered asking for a radio check but thought better of it. Instead, he moved to his viewing post, sitting down calmly.


    Even though Aldo had said "just once," Schafer had a strong feeling he''d ask to drive the Tipo with the Super engine again in the next race if today went well.


    But then, too much high performance would lead to suspicion and investigation. Aldo just had to top the standings this afternoon for both the team and himself.


    He glanced to his right, looking up at the suites above the Nevada garage and paddock.


    His sharp eyes allowed him to see the figures behind the glass walls clearly, or maybe it was just because he already knew who would be there.


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    Many among them supported the ongoing misconduct, while some were against it.


    For example, Mr. Almansa, the one who had finally accepted Aldo''s plea but added those strict clauses, sat there watching.


    To his right, Marchetti¡ªa young man who could have been a Formula driver himself¡ªwas completely against it. He wore a deep frown, staring at Aldo as if he knew Aldo was looking back at him.


    "...Aldo Rennick¡ªan enigma of the paddock. A driver who has never been one to shy away from a fight. And with Georg Nygaard beside him, Nevada HanSama has both their cars in prime positions...!"


    "...Drivers, we are five minutes from lights out. Five minutes...!"


    It was the fact that he had involved his family in this. That was why he had to be victorious today with the ThunderKat.


    If he wasn''t¡ªif something happened to him on the track¡ªthen everything would unfold exactly as agreed. Nevada, his agent, the loaners, and everybody waiting like vultures would tear through his wealth and assets the moment he was gone.


    Luca, his son, wouldn''t inherit a damn thing except the mess Aldo had left behind. His family would be left with nothing.


    That was the cost of this gamble.


    Aldo had surely ran mad when he decided this, because even when he glanced to the stands where he was certain Cecilia, his wife and kids were at, he still didn''t feel a pang of doubt.


    The red lights disappeared and Aldo shot forward, shocking the world as he took P1 at Turn 1.


    The car felt like a wild beast he could barely restrain as it buckled and trembled whenever he accelerated, fighting against his control.


    Even though he had practiced with it in training, he still struggled to keep the Ferrari stable. But at the very least, he was pulling away from his rivals!


    Owen was surely watching him climb to the top of the standings effortlessly! It was worth it!


    Aldo did his best not to think about anything else but what took precedence, which was keeping control. The excessive torque tried twisting the chassis from the inside, forcing Aldo to continuously counter-steer and counter-steer.


    At some point, he felt like he was correcting and not driving, and the car was simply moving by itself.


    All HiCEs have special traits, and the ThunderKat 2.0, had an unstable, self-reinforcing feedback loop. The more aggressive Aldo drove (Aldo corrected), the stronger the surges became, as though the engine learned from his inputs and responded by escalating its power delivery.


    It fed off his racing instincts, rewarding his audacity with speed but punishing hesitation with unpredictability.


    Aldo couldn''t really slow down now. He had to keep pushing and he was slowly passing the speed limit of the standards that time.


    Sweat beaded on Aldo''s forehead despite the cool air blasting through his helmet. He took another corner, the car trembling under him. This was just the 7th Lap! Madness. Sheer madness!


    Aldo wondered if he could continue. He had 15 seconds on P2. That was unheard of. The commentators were losing their minds. The crowd was deafening. Luca was cheering in the stands louder than ever before.


    But Aldo was at his limit. No driver had ever handled this kind of power before. The HiCE''s relentless force was crushing his body, his muscles screamed, and his vision blurred. The wheel was getting heavier, too heavy. And his breathing was shallow.


    He fought to press the radio button. "I can''t continue!"


    The response from the engineers was immediate.


    **He can''t continue! Pit time! Box, Aldo, box!**


    "...and it seems after a stunning lead, Aldo Rennick has pushed that Ferrari so much he needs to visit the pits..!"


    The pit lane was just ahead. A little more. Just a little¡ª


    BANG.


    The car snapped sideways, fire bursting through the sidepod. Aldo''s head slammed back, his body flung against the cockpit walls.


    He couldn''t see. Heat, smoke and the stench of burning fuel engulfed.


    Aldo was burnt within ten seconds and the crash that followed served no real damage.


    "...RED FLAG! RED FLAG!" S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 263 - 263: Seasons Preamble

    Back in high school, when Luca used to borrow comics, he loved the idea of a protagonist carrying on a great legacy from his father. And then, he would ultimately surpass his father''s greatness.


    So, when he earned his FIA driver''s license, got signed as a Trampos driver, and was registered under #21¡ªthe inverse of #12¡ªLuca believed he was stepping into one of those protagonist arcs.


    He imagined that when his time came to shine, revealing himself as Aldo''s son would earn him widespread recognition. He expected to hear stories of his father''s greatness, tales of his achievements, and the respect that came with his name.


    But reality didn''t follow that script.


    Aldo wasn''t the man Luca had remembered from his childhood. As a boy, he had seen his father as a caring, devoted man who always made time for his family and wife.


    Yet, as Luca sat in silence and reflected on those memories, a realization crept in. This realization was the one that changed his entire perspective.


    The time Aldo spent with his family wasn''t the typical family moments found in every household.


    Every outing Luca remembered, every activity they did together, always seemed to tie back to Formula racing in some way.


    Whether it was Aldo taking them to racing festivals, treating his wife to dinner night events that circled around the sport, or simply spending hours playing racing games with Luca¡ªeverything had a connection to racing.


    Luca began to wonder if Aldo was just a racing geek? A freak? Was he so obsessed with the sport that he had let it consume him entirely?


    Now, innocent Luca was caught in the middle of this mess, receiving hate speeches from all of Nevada, especially their fans.


    The whole issue had dragged into February just as quickly as the investigations had been launched. The truth had come out fast¡ªsuper fast.


    But even with everything undeniably exposed, the FIA still wanted a traditional prosecution, complete with witnesses and formal proceedings.


    And Luca? He was called up to testify as a witness. To confirm that Aldo Rennick had a wife and children.


    This would support the motion that Nevada had deliberately joined hands with Aldo to hide their existence, all so they could siphon what was left of his wealth after his death, compensating for the illicit engine he had destroyed at RBR.


    The official witnesses were supposed to be Luca, his mother, and his sister.


    But when the court date arrived, Luca stood alone.


    Sophia had just started school, and he refused to let this scandal disrupt her life.


    As for Mrs. Rennick? She refused to step foot in Italy. She wouldn''t even leave the house in Clapham. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca exhaled, staring at the courthouse doors. He just wanted this to be over.


    He wanted to fly back to London and to his mother.


    Out of everyone, she was the most shattered by the truth.


    Luca and Sophia had felt nothing but embarrassment and disappointment toward their late father. Enjoy more content from My Virtual Library Empire


    But his mother? Luca understood her pain. Her grief. Her tears.


    She had been married to a man who had planned for his death as if his family never existed. How was she supposed to accept that?


    Mrs. Rennick had been betrayed in a way no wife should ever have to endure. She had stood by Aldo and loved him dearly, married him young, believing in their future, in the family they would build together. And yet, in just six short years of marriage, he had thrown it all away.


    He had made arrangements for his wealth to be drained after his death, ensuring that Nevada and his so-called ''partners'' could feast on whatever was left, while his own wife and children were left with nothing.


    What kind of man would gamble such a thing with the confidence he could control the engine and walk out victorious?!


    Mrs. Rennick had woken up one morning with a husband, a home, and a future.


    By nightfall, she had nothing. And until this day, she had refused to remarry, thinking that even in his absence, her heart still belonged to Aldo.


    Luca spent the week in FIA buildings a lot, and even took countless tours to all the properties then owned by Aldo. Now, they were occupied by different people.


    Luca wondered just how one chunk of metal weighing about 150kg could be more costly than the buildings and stakes his father once owned.


    Just 150kg?! Ha! It was funny to Luca and he couldn''t help but laugh.


    In these times, he found himself wondering how his life would have turned out if fate had taken a different path. Would he be in his second year of college, pursuing a major like any normal student? Or would he have followed in his father''s footsteps and still ended up in Formula racing?


    He questioned whether he would have even acquired the Formula 1 System. If his father had never died, he wouldn''t have distanced himself from the sport, and the system wouldn''t have pulled him back in.


    If not for his mother, Luca would have 100% liked the path fate had taken.


    He was certain that growing up under Aldo''s influence wouldn''t have made him a better person. The poverty he had once experienced had taught him valuable lessons. These lessons he doubted he would have learned if he had been raised with the same mindset as his father.


    Poverty was far from the Rennick family now. In fact, in a matter of time, they''d become the complete opposite.


    Luca recalled how, during the prosecution, the FIA had proposed compensation for him and his family. Once Nevada was found guilty, they would be awarded $20 million as reparation for everything that had happened.


    It was a very hefty, abrupt sum that would just fall from the sky into their hands.


    Luca had never received money he hadn''t worked for before and this was way more than what he made last year.


    Even though Luca was financially stable, the FIA still took it upon them. As they had said¡ªtraditional prosecution.


    And the $20 million was a sum to rebuild their lives, a price placed on their suffering, an attempt to close the chapter on Aldo Rennick''s fall from grace.

 Chapter 264 - 264: Seasons Preamble. 2

    Around early February, Nevada was found guilty on all charges. The court had ruled decisively, leaving no room for appeal. Fraud, corruption, regulation breach, and the deliberate siphoning of Aldo Rennick''s wealth had all been proven beyond doubt.


    Every punishment was carried out accordingly. Though Luca had no idea to what extent the punishments should have gone, the press described Nevada''s sentencing as a slap on the wrist.


    Many argued that the FIA had been lenient with Nevada HanSama, taking it easy on them due to the team''s deep-rooted history in the sport. Permanently erasing them would mean losing a significant financial and cultural contributor to Formula 1.


    In general, Nevada HanSama were too important to be given severe punishments. Despite this, the penalties imposed were devastating and effectively dismantled the team.


    Heavy fines as we had mentioned were imposed as part of these punishments, and asset seizures took a toll, but nothing compared to the final, most crushing blow which was a five-year ban from all motorsport activities.


    The media debated whether this punishment was justified or if the ban should have been even longer. Regardless, Luca knew just how severe it was. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This meant that Nevada HanSama would be completely absent from the motorsport world for half a decade.


    There would be no races, no sponsorships, no development projects, nothing.


    Luca had singlehandedly brought down an entire team¡ªthe very team he was, technically, a part of.


    When Nevada and Trampos had struck an agreement, the deal was already financially secured. Nevada had been eager to acquire Luca and integrate him into their ranks as early as possible.


    This meant that, even before officially signing a driver contract, Luca was already tied to Nevada HanSama. All that was left was his signature.


    This signature was the one that would solidify his status as their driver and link his merchandise, branding, and entire name to the team.


    Now, with Nevada HanSama facing a five-year ban from all motorsport participation, the consequences would ripple through every level of the organization.


    From the technical staff to the management, to the sponsors and fans.


    For the drivers, those already contracted with Nevada HanSama would be forced to seek other teams if they wanted to continue racing. Some, particularly junior drivers, might never find another opportunity at all.


    At this moment, Hank Rice found himself in a difficult position. As the team''s top star driver, he faced two choices.


    He either move to a rival team and continue competing at the highest level (which was unthinkable due to his deep loyalty to Nevada) or settle for a lower-paying contract with a non-rival team. Neither option was ideal.


    Luca, on the other hand, was still a fresh addition to Nevada. And to make matters worse, after suffering a catastrophic financial collapse in just two months, the team now had to figure out what to do with him


    He was the driver they had just signed for $10 million!


    Some bitter fans went as far as suggesting that Luca be released immediately, claiming he was unwanted and should have no place in Nevada anymore.


    Despite the overwhelming resentment within Nevada''s management, they knew better than to make rash decisions during such a critical period. Their focus now was damage control.


    Luca''s market value remained the highest in the sport, a rare asset even in the middle of the chaos.


    If they could successfully persuade and negotiate a transfer deal with another team, Nevada could recoup some of their losses and begin laying the groundwork for a stronger comeback after their five-year ban.


    Luca wasn''t even granted any form of communication with "his own team" as everything unfolded.


    The only way he could track what was happening was through the news, making it feel as if the entire world had suddenly turned upside down.


    Then, in the midst of all the chaos, an abrupt and unprecedented revelation stunned Luca to his core.


    It was Sara who informed him¡ªMr. Lema?tre, now the FORMER co-owner of Squadra Corse, was officially a co-owner of Trampos Racing, holding a 15% stake in the team.


    Luca was speechless.


    Mr. Lema?tre had stepped down from his position at Squadra Corse before his fellow stakeholders could even realize he was making moves elsewhere, blindsiding everyone.


    His sudden departure had sent shockwaves through the entire organization and even the rivals''.


    But what baffled Luca even more was how Mr. Lema?tre¡ªa Spanish businessman¡ªhad managed to convince the German government and become the first private individual to secure a stake in Trampos.


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    Luca couldn''t wrap his head around it.


    What kind of move was this?!


    First, Lema?tre had played a major role in facilitating Nevada''s prosecution. And now, he had secured ownership in the very same F2 team Luca had just left?!


    Luca had been expecting a call, and when it finally came, it was from Mr. Lema?tre.


    He answered immediately.


    Luca started by congratulating the man on his new position, and Mr. Lema?tre responded humbly, thanking him.


    So, the conversation shifted.


    Mr. Lema?tre asked how Luca was holding up amidst the ongoing scandal, and Luca reassured him that he was coping well.


    However, he admitted his biggest concern about how Nevada''s ban could put his F1 career in serious jeopardy. He was no longer an asset of Trampos, but rather stuck under Nevada HanSama.


    "Ha! Ha!"


    Mr. Lema?tre laughed it off like it was nothing and told Luca there was no need to worry. He would make it to an F1 team this year; he just had to be patient.


    Luca couldn''t tell if it was confidence or just typical businessman optimism, but Mr. Lema?tre''s words turned out to be more than just a prediction.


    Soon enough, Nevada HanSama''s longtime frenemies, Jackson Racing, stepped forward.


    They framed their approach as helping out their struggling neighbor, but in reality, they were capitalizing on the chance to snatch up a promising young driver like Luca and add up to their stack.


    Without much effort, they completely overshadowed Outback''s proposal, offering Nevada a deal they couldn''t refuse. Nevada, desperate to recoup their losses, welcomed their rivals with open arms.


    In just three days, the deal was finalized.


    Of course, it was going to be a huge drop in Luca''s market value, but still substantial enough to make the transfer worthwhile.


    Now, with Jackson Racing having settled terms with Nevada, there was only one thing left to do, and that was to approach the driver himself.


    And just like that, in the blink of an eye, Luca and Mallow found themselves staring at another set of Ferrari-backed documents on their table.

 Chapter 265 - 265: Seasons Preamble 3: Welcome To Formula 1

    In Formula 1, it had always been a custom for the grid of every race to be made up of twenty drivers, with two representing each team.


    Thus, the F1 Constructor''s Championship¡ªright from the beginning¡ªhad consisted of ten teams, unlike F2 with fifteen and F3 with twenty.


    With the turbulent ban imposed on Nevada HanSama, the Federation now faced a new challenge.


    Giving a headcount of all active F1 teams, it tallied to nine in number. And with this number, the F1 season could not begin. Would not begin, rather. It was deemed essential that the F1 competition be composed of ten teams.


    Balance took precedence in this case, as the FIA had to ensure the full grid of twenty drivers. Competition integrity had to be maintained, while commercial stability and historical consistency had to be preserved.


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    It was now publicly announced that the new season couldn''t kick off if the FIA didn''t replace Nevada HanSama with a substitute, perhaps for the five years of their absence.


    Luca wondered if this substitute team would agree to leave just like that when Nevada returned.


    Surely, once a team had tasted the competition of F1 and the financial heights that accompanied the division, they''d be damned to simply throw it away when the previous occupants returned.


    Perhaps, within this timeframe, the FIA might decide on another structural change that would favor the team they put in as a replacement.


    Maybe F1 could transform into a tournament-style format, where at the end of each season, the last team in the standings¡ªor the last two¡ªwould be relegated to F2, while the top two teams from F2 would be promoted to replace them.


    This cycle would continue, and by the time Nevada was ready to rejoin, no team would be promoted; instead, they would take the spot of the relegated F1 team.


    After all, in F2, the 15-team grid structure wasn''t as significant or traditional as F1''s.


    This was just Luca''s guess, but he believed such a system could add an interesting dynamic to the sport, making every race more intense and every season more unpredictable.


    It might actually strengthen the teams that got relegated, as they would use all their resources to dominate F2 and fight their way back.


    In a way, this could make the lower division more competitive. Instead of just being a stepping stone for young drivers, F2 would become a battleground where former F1 teams sharpened their strategies and infrastructures for a return to the top tier.


    The FIA had to decide quickly because the season was fast approaching. Soon, the calendar would be released, and teams would unveil their driver lineups and new liveries.


    There was no time for a "tournament" as one had suggested. A tournament would likely see some F2 teams competing in a quick knockout or points-based series to determine which team would replace Nevada HanSama.


    The Federation needed an immediate solution, there simply wasn''t enough time to organize such a competition.


    They could either select a replacement team based on performance and financial stability or make an exception to allow the season to start with just nine teams.


    However, the latter option risked breaking tradition and disrupting sponsorship agreements as just earlier discussed.


    While the FIA received applications from several teams proposing to be the replacement, Luca and Jackson Racing were just finalizing their agreement, and soon enough, the official signing ceremony was held.


    Fortunately, Luca saw nothing in the personal terms that would make him refuse to sign. He was actually going to become a Jackson Racing driver? A Silver Stallion?


    Jackson Racing offered a one-year contract which Luca didn''t really like. It made him feel like they didn''t trust his capability, and as if they saw him as a temporary addition rather than a long-term investment.


    A one-year deal meant he''d constantly be under pressure to prove himself to this big team, with no security beyond the season. If he didn''t deliver results quickly, he could be replaced just as fast as he was signed.


    And this one-year contract came with a $1.3M salary, along with bonuses for race wins and podium finishes.


    While $1.3M was lower than Nevada''s impressive $2.5M¡ªan amount they had proudly flaunted to both Luca and Trampos¡ªit was still a strong figure.


    As Mallow explained, it placed Luca among the highly paid drivers. The earlier $2.5M only made it seem less substantial by comparison.


    Jackson Racing, on the other hand, offered Luca a one-year contract because he was an unexpected addition to their lineup. Suddenly integrating him into their long-term plans wasn''t a viable option.


    Instead, the high salary served as motivation and an incentive to push Luca to perform at his best. If he delivered, that one-year deal could be extended at the season''s end.


    And if everything aligned, Luca Rennick could become a permanent Silver Stallion for the rest of his career, as long as both parties remained satisfied with each other.


    "LUCA RENNICK''S F1 COMEBACK WITH JACKSON!"


    "A BREAKTHROUGH IN THE BAN!"


    "RENNICK''S ROAD TO REDEMPTION BEGINS AT JACKSON RACING!"


    "JACKSON RACING GAINS WHILE NEVADA KEEPS LOSING!"


    "LUCA RENNICK, ITALIAN, REJECTS HIS MOTHERLAND FOR THE ENGLISH!"


    "ONE-YEAR CONTRACT? DOES JACKSON EVEN BELIEVE IN LUCA?"


    "LUCA RENNICK WENT FROM NEVADA''S PRIDE TO THEIR SHAME!"


    "LUCA RENNICK WILL DRIVER A FERRARI, BUT NOT A RED ONE!"


    It didn''t matter what the press said on the outside. The headlines, the debates, the criticisms were all just noise. Here, in this moment at the signing ceremony, it was all silence.


    This silence was the heavy kind, filled with quiet expectations, hidden doubts, and the undeniable finality of what he had just done.


    Luca sealed the deal with a stroke of his pen, the ink drying on the last empty space. Now, he was bound by words to direct his commitment and loyalty to Jackson Racing.


    Everyone rose from their seats. Luca and Vance turned to Mr. Matthews, Jackson Racing''s Team Principal, and Mr. Berry, Head Engineer, shaking their hands firmly.


    "Welcome to Formula 1, Luca."


    "Thank you."


    "Welcome to Formula 1, Luca." S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Thank you."


    Cameras flashed and Luca struggled to keep his eyes open as he maintained the handshake with Mr. Matthews.


    He could tell the press was already crafting their next sensational story out of this.


    Regardless of what was written on the paper or said on the TV, the raw fact was that he had suddenly changed course he didn''t expect and was now a Jackson Racing driver.


    #21, Luca Rennick, Jackson Racing, Ferrari, Colors Silvery Blue and Metallic Black.


    [Ding!]


    [Host''s Personal Stats has changed!]


    [Please review status as soon as possible]


    "Review now."


    [Personal Stats:


    Nickname: None


    Status: 1 year contract


    Salary: $1,300,000


    Team: Jackson Racing


    Race Wins: 5


    Podium Finishes: 7


    Pole Positions: 2


    Championships: 1 ]


    [Congratulations, host on making it to the top division]


    [The Formula 1 System can now truly live up to its name.]

 Chapter 266 - 266: Chill Of Winter. 3

    The Jackson Racing signing ceremony was Luca''s first stop immediately after he set foot in London.


    And after the event, fully sealing his addition to the English team, Luca weaved his way through the throng of press with Chico''s help and got into the car.


    Next destination was Clapham. Luca had yet to rest and unwind, even after the long flight. His luggage still sat untouched in the trunk, a reminder of how fast everything had been moving.


    He leaned back against the seat, exhaling slowly as he turned his gaze to the window. Outside, the cityscape blurred past, but what caught his eye was the snow that was falling.


    Soft, steady flakes were drifting down from the grey sky, layering the streets in a thin, growing sheet of white. It brought immediate satisfaction to Luca and he was glad the snow had finally found a pattern these past weeks.


    He wondered if this late winter would affect the temperature readings when the season began. Cold tires could be a problem for the first two or even three races.


    Luca had heard that Ferrari had developed some highly durable tires, and F1 in general had better compounds than F2, so maybe it wouldn''t be an issue after all.


    As his mind drifted back to the reality of being part of Jackson Racing, it suddenly hit him that he was going to be based in London!


    Unbelievable. What a turn of events.


    From planning to become an Outback driver and settle in Australia, to believing everything was secured with Nevada, only to find himself circling back to where it all started.


    Now, London¡ªthe city he grew up in. Luca could very well call London home. The city was the place where he, his mother, and his sister sought refuge after the calamity, enduring the rest of their hardships.


    At least now, there''d be no need to spend money shipping his Jaguar overseas. He could continue his driving lessons at the same school with no need for a transfer. And he could still fence with Adrian in his free time.


    What was that saying about London again? London is a roost.


    After a ten-minute drive, they arrived in Clapham, cruising through the neighborhood until they reached the house.


    As the car rolled to a stop, Luca pulled out his phone and called his mother to let her know they''d arrived.


    Stepping out, he moved toward the trunk to grab his bags, but before he could reach for them, Chico had already swooped in, effortlessly lifting them as if they weighed nothing.


    Luca smiled, nodding in appreciation, then turned and led the way to the porch. Behind him, Vance carefully parked the car behind the Jaguar, which had been sitting idle since Christmas.


    He knocked twice on the door, and within seconds, Mrs. Rennick swung it open, greeting them with a warm and cheerful welcome.


    She then stepped aside, ushering them in with a bright expression Luca believed looked forced.


    Luca stepped in last and closed the door behind them, taking off his coat. He took in a deep sniff of the house''s warmth, relishing the way it smelt like tea, lavender and just a hint of disinfectant.


    Chico neatly placed Luca''s bags by the hallway before joining the others on the couches.


    Since they were seated orderly, Luca took a moment to introduce each of them to his mother, offering his best remarks after their names. Mrs. Rennick received them warmly, expressing her delight at welcoming Luca''s team into her home.


    She asked what they would like for refreshments, and after taking their requests, she disappeared into the kitchen without hesitation.


    Luca, however, was too exhausted for light snacks. He needed something substantial¡ªreal, heavy food¡ªbut that would have to wait until after they left.


    For now, he excused himself, mentioning he was heading upstairs to freshen up, and grabbed his bags on the way.


    Seconds later, he was in his room. It was still neat and tidy, the bedsheets so clean and the bed neatly made. There was no sign of dust nor dirt, and the floor, sparkling clean.


    He knew his mother had expected him, but the state of the room suggested she had always kept it this way, waiting for whenever he might return. Today, it seemed, she hadn''t even needed to put in extra effort.


    Luca exhaled, setting his bags down before unpacking only the essentials for now. His priority was a hot bath and a change into something comfortable while the others enjoyed their refreshments downstairs.


    Almost an hour later, Luca made his way downstairs, dressed in a simple black t-shirt and relaxed grey pants.


    He noticed his team had finished their refreshments, and Mrs. Rennick had already cleared the plates. Feeling a bit thirsty, he made his way to the kitchen to grab a cup of water and check on her.


    Barefoot, Luca entered quietly, but his mother didn''t notice him. She stood at the sink, silently washing the dishes, her focus fixed on the lather as she scrubbed and rinsed.


    Leaning against the counter, he sipped his water, watching her closely. He knew his mother very very well. He knew something was off about her and she wasn''t herself.


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    To confirm his suspicion, Luca moved to the drawers, checking for something he knew she always neglected when she was troubled.


    The sudden sound of the drawer startled Mrs. Rennick. She jumped slightly and turned, seeing Luca peering inside.


    Just as he suspected¡ªshe had stopped taking her medication. He knew the reason. The scandal that had shaken their lives just a week ago still weighed on her. But that didn''t mean she could afford to neglect her health.


    "You haven''t been taking your drugs," Luca said calmly.


    "I have," Mrs. Rennick responded quickly, but he could hear the lie in her voice.


    Luca used to buy these same drugs back when they lived in the apartment. He knew exactly how many were supposed to be left in the pack by now.


    "It is missing this many," Luca said, lifting the pack slightly and tapping his fingers against it, "which means you haven''t taken this many."


    Mrs. Rennick opened her mouth to protest, but then she hesitated, lowering her gaze.


    "I know this past month has been hard," Luca said gently. "But that doesn''t mean you can just stop taking your medication. This isn''t some simple headache or fever, Mom."


    In an instant, Mrs. Rennick broke down, her shoulders shaking as tears fell just like Sophia when she cried. Luca comforted her with a hug.


    "I can''t apologize for Dad," he murmured. "But I know if he were here, he''d be begging for your forgiveness."


    "Thank you," Mrs. Rennick said.


    "Are you sure you don''t want to live in the villa I''ll be buying?" Luca asked as he filled a cup with water and handed her today''s medication.


    They had discussed this before, and Mrs. Rennick had always refused, insisting she wanted to stay here until old age claimed her.


    She said there had already been too many changes, and she longed for stability. Besides, she had been bonding with her neighbors. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "There''s a granny I visit down the street," Mrs. Rennick said before washing down the pill with a gulp of water. "She tells really nice stories."


    With a cat as her only companion and loneliness surrounding her, Luca worried that his mother was slowly becoming a cat lady.


    Her final reason was about him. Mrs. Rennick didn''t want to be a burden, especially now that he had joined a new team. She wanted him to stay focused, and she believed a house without family distractions would be best.


    Luca smiled, grateful to have such a caring mother.


    --------


    It was dusk now. Vance and Chico had long since left to book a hotel, while Manuela remained in the living room, finishing up her work.


    Mrs. Rennick mentioned that the house was running low on groceries, so Luca decided to take care of it himself.


    He slipped on some slides, grabbed his coat, cap, and mask, then turned to Manuela. "Would you like to retire from here?"


    She nodded and stood up, bidding Mrs. Rennick farewell before following Luca outside.


    The snowfall had intensified, steadily covering the streets in a fresh layer of white. The cold air bit at their skin, their breaths visible in the dim evening light.


    Manuela tucked her hands into her pockets for warmth as Luca wandered over to the Jaguar.


    Brushing off the accumulating snow from the car''s roof, he tapped the key fob, and the sleek vehicle responded with a soft beep.


    Manuela wondered if Luca was going to drive the Jaguar!


    As his personal assistant, she was well aware that Luca wasn''t licensed yet. His schedule even had "Driving Lessons" marked in it!


    Her eyes widened as Luca carefully attached the bright red L plates to both the front and rear of the million-dollar car.


    "Mr. Luca, you aren''t seriously going to drive, are you?!" she exclaimed.


    Luca glanced at her and let out a laugh. There was no way he was waiting another month before getting behind the wheel of his prized black beauty.


    Besides, they rarely stopped cars with an L sign.


    "Hop in," he said, sliding into the driver''s seat, sinking into the exquisite leather, and starting the nearly silent engine.


    Manuela swallowed her nerves and climbed in, shutting the door with a cautious thud.


    Luca already knew how to handle a car so driving in public wouldn''t be a problem. After all, learning quickly was just another life advantage granted by his system stats.


    Vance forwarded the hotel''s location, and Luca drove Manuela there.


    To her surprise, he handled the car remarkably well, all steady and all controlled. Even so, that didn''t stop her heart from pounding the entire ride.


    Once they arrived, Luca waved her off from the driver''s seat.


    "Have a good night, Mr. Luca. And please, drive carefully," she said.


    Ha!


    Luca was convinced he was the best driver on the road right now. And with a luxury car like this standing out among the sea of mid-range vehicles, he was having his own main character moment.


    For a brief second, he considered driving all the way to Westborough just to shop at the market he knew at heart. But at this hour, it was too long of a trip. Besides, he didn''t want to keep his mother waiting.


    Instead, he searched for the nearest store and pulled in, adjusting his cap and mask before stepping out with the shopping list in hand.


    He estimated about 15 minutes of shopping, given the length of the list, and wasted no time getting started.


    As he moved through the aisles, his attention occasionally drifted to the TVs mounted above, broadcasting a sports news segment¡ªnaturally, about motorsport.


    At one point, the analysts switched topics, discussing the Signing Ceremony that had taken place earlier that day. They marveled at how, all of a sudden, Luca Rennick had become a Jackson Racing driver.


    Same Luca Rennick in a grocery market mindlessly pushing a cart.


    The discussion heated up as they analyzed what a duo of Marcellus Rodnick and Luca Rennick would mean for Jackson Racing against rival teams.


    Luca smirked. They had a point. Rodnick was a top-tier driver. And him? An exceptional one. Together, they could be unstoppable.


    Once he had everything, he headed to the counter, paid for the groceries, and added a generous tip. A store employee offered to help load the bags into the trunk, which he gladly accepted.


    Moments later, Luca slid back into the car, shutting out the world as soon as the door closed. With a quiet exhale, he started the engine and began the drive back to Clapham, back home, where dinner was already waiting.

 Chapter 267 - 267: Chill Of Winter. 4

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Host should begin his Daily Routine]


    Luca drowsily woke up from bed, his eyes red and his breath as hot as steam. He scratched and rubbed his face before his hands moved down to clutch his wool sweater and bed sheets closer to his body.


    The snow from last night had grown colder and intensified to a freezing state.


    The curtains were closed, but Luca knew the windows would have snow clinging to them. And beyond that, the lawn and the street would be coated with snow.


    "I don''t know any gym around here," Luca pointed out as he began listing reasonable excuses loud enough for the system to hear. "Only the one at the FAF Performance Centre."


    "And I really can''t drive to go look for a gym," he said. "Maybe Vance could help me get into their hotel''s gym..."


    "...but Amir''s not in the UK yet."


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been issued!]


    "!!!!"


    [-¡¤-COMPLETE PROVIDED UPPER BODY AND LEG STRENGTH TRAINING CATEGORY-¡¤-]


    [DURATION: Complete before 9 AM]


    [This will help enhance your upper body strength and braking power.]


    [Reward for Completing Thursday Daily Quest: (EXP)


    - nil


    Reward for Completing Thursday Daily Quest: (Tool)


    - (2) Catalyst ]


    [Consequence for Failing Thursday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Pneumonia.]


    Luca was fully prepared to fall back into bed and embrace the warmth of the freezing climate. But he stopped midway when the system notification rang out, announcing the Daily Quest.


    Sometimes, he genuinely wondered if this system had some level of sentience, because this was way too uncanny and mischievously timed.


    First off, an Upper Body and Leg Strength Training category was practically a full no-equipment F1 workout session.


    Secondly, this was the earliest time limit he''d ever been given since acquiring the system a year ago.


    Luca was one hundred percent sure that the 9 AM deadline wasn''t just about finishing the exercises quickly, but was a direct ploy to force him out of bed immediately and abandon his bedroom.


    He shifted his gaze to the table clock. A few minutes to seven.


    Back in his school days, these clocks were often incorrect and unreliable, so he reached for his phone to double-check the correct time.


    "Tsk!" The difference was barely five minutes. No real difference.


    "Just look at all that snow, wanting nothing more than for us to stay indoors and relax," Luca said before rolling off the bed, the system''s interface following along in his vision.


    Sitting at the edge, he studied the Daily Quest more closely and immediately noticed that there were no EXP rewards, but a tool reward. 2 Catalysts.


    "An incentive. Smart."


    With 2 Catalysts, something was definitely getting leveled up today.


    Luca recalled the last time he was rewarded with a single Catalyst from a Daily Quest and he remembered exactly how he used it and what he spent it on, taking the stat to the next level.


    Luca had decided to use the single Catalyst on his Attributes just as a test, since it was his first time using one.


    He didn''t want to use it on a Skill because there were too many options to consider, each requiring deeper thought.


    Instead, he scrolled the tool higher in the system''s interface, bringing it to the Attributes section, where he wouldn''t need to ponder too much and could simply observe how the Catalyst worked in action.


    Back then, his Attributes had been:


    [Strength: 29


    Stamina: 32


    Endurance: 30


    Agility: 28


    Intelligence: 29 ]


    And after confirming the use of the Catalyst...


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 1 Catalysts to Strength, Agility and Intelligence...]


    [Strength: 29 ¡ú 30


    Agility: 28 ¡ú 29


    Intelligence: 29 ¡ú 30 ]


    Luca remembered the system explicitly stating that his Attributes needed just one more point in Agility to bring them all to 30, which would, in turn, unlock a new Skill, adding another ability to his arsenal.


    Luca wanted to clarify something about that.


    "When I get them all to 30, I''ll be receiving a Self Skill and not a Car Skill, right?"


    [Affirmative, host.]


    "And I can only unlock Car Skills through this method by taking Car Attributes to milestones?"


    [Yes, host!]


    "That''s systematic and understandable," Luca said, wondering how close he might be to hitting a milestone in that category.


    He vividly remembered that his Car''s Performance Attributes had been randomly scored, but he couldn''t recall which tens value was the closest to a milestone.


    Navigating to the Car''s status, Luca noted that he had yet to register Jackson Racing''s Ferrari in the system. For now, the system still recognized the Dallara (F2 04) as his active car.


    [Performance Information:


    Top Speed: 300 km/h


    Acceleration: 3.5 s (0-100 km/h)


    Aerodynamics: 15


    Downforce: 10


    Braking Efficiency: 15


    Handling: 10


    Tire Wear Management: 8 ]


    "So, system, for this car, 10 is the first milestone because Tire Wear Management is yet to reach 10?"


    [Yes, host.]


    Luca nodded with determination. That was great and it seemed very close. He partly wished he still had the F2 04 just for the sake of it.


    In fact, he was confident that Tire Wear (TW) Management would''ve been the first Car Attribute he''d push to the next tens. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    With Gripper as his first Car Skill, executing it and leveling it up would naturally improve tire-related performance, making TW Management the most likely to hit the next zeroes first if he was still piloting an F2 04.


    Maybe he could get it to 10 quickly for a new Skill before he switched cars?


    "But now I have Agility to take to 30! Let''s get to it!"


    [Agility: 29]


    Luca pushed himself off the edge of the bed and stretched before moving into the bathroom for a quick face wash and to brush his teeth.


    Then, he quickly changed into workout gear, rolling his shoulders as he navigated to the Daily Quest details.


    [-¡¤-COMPLETE PROVIDED UPPER BODY AND LEG STRENGTH TRAINING CATEGORY-¡¤-]


    [¡ªNeck Isometrics (3 sets of 30 seconds per side)


    ¡ªPike Push-Ups (4 sets of 12 reps)


    ¡ªSquat Jumps (4 sets of 15 reps)


    ¡ªSingle-Leg Wall Sit (3 sets of 45 seconds per leg) ]


    Luca had completed Daily Quests like pushing a Trampos transport truck across a set distance, swimming for agility and core, and even holding a huge wooden plank.


    But this one was pure endurance and strength training, almost like an entire F1 gym session crammed into one quest.


    He looked out the window and realized this was actually a great idea. With the winter morning, he''d have nothing to do but this.


    So, Luca left his room to begin. He decided to take the lobby area next to the staircase since his room was relatively too small for an exercise like squat jumps.


    Luca noticed the house was quiet, and Mrs. Rennick hadn''t started her usual early morning chores and cooking. It seemed she was sleeping in to enjoy the cold weather.


    He looked around the house, searching for a very comfortable mat.

 Chapter 268 - 268: Welcome To Jackson Racing

    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    The following day, Luca''s schedule included his official arrival at Jackson Racing HQ, where he''d meet the team¡ªengineers, mechanics, strategists, and, of course, his new head teammate, Marcellus Rodnick.


    Media duties would line up afterwards, as his entry into the team needed to be broadcasted to the world.


    But between all that, Luca expected himself to personally interact with the crew, understand their working dynamics, and most importantly, start building some understanding with Rodnick.


    It was going to be a long, packed day. This was the day that officially marked his entry into the big leagues.


    Luca had a warm breakfast with his mother, and after that, she waved him a good luck goodbye as Vance arrived to pick him up.


    Together, they drove to Woking, Surrey, where Jackson Racing''s HQ was located.


    The drive took quite some time, mainly because Woking was on the outskirts of London, requiring them to navigate through city traffic before hitting the highways.


    The cold morning air and patches of melting snow on the roads made the journey feel even longer.


    After nearly an hour''s drive, they finally arrived at Jackson Racing HQ in Woking. The surroundings were cold not just because it was still winter, but because of the vast stretches of empty land and greenery shrouded in mist.


    Snow still clung to various surfaces, with some piled to the side as evidence of recent shoveling along the path leading to the gate.


    Luca took note of Jackson Racing''s logo, which was emblazoned on the iron gates, one on the entrance side and another on the exit side.


    It resembled a wheel¡ªnot perfectly round, but oval¡ªresting atop what looked like an anvil. Two sharp arcs curved around the sides, completing the insignia''s distinct oval shape.


    A security guard, bundled in a thick black jacket blew his palms for some warmth before he walked to their windows.


    Luca and Vance flashed their credentials, and the guard examined them briefly before nodding in confirmation.


    He then stepped back into his security booth, relayed the clearance to his colleagues at the other end, and within moments, the heavy gates rumbled to life.


    As the massive iron barriers slowly parted with a deep mechanical groan, Luca glanced at Vance.


    "You must be a Jackson Racing fan, aren''t you?" he asked him.


    Vance was momentarily surprised by how accurate the guess was, but he nodded firmly as he eased the car forward, officially entering Jackson Racing''s territory.


    "How did you know?" he asked, glancing back at Luca.


    Luca shrugged. "You''ve lived in London your whole life. Which other team would you root for?"


    Vance chuckled. "There''s Haddock..."


    "Mr. Vance never settles for second best," Luca remarked, turning his gaze to the grand facility as the car swerved into the parking lot. "You always go for the best."


    Luca knew Vance saw immense potential in him, that''s why he had pushed to join his PT.


    It was a strategic investment in the future, a way to ensure he''d be part of the personal team of the best Formula 1 driver when Luca eventually claimed that title. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Vance parked the car and switched off the engine, glancing around and the back at the imposing facility behind them.


    "You''re right. And here we are, at the HQ of the Formula 1 Champions¡ªthe best team on the grid right now. I reckon we''ll be visiting here a lot."


    Luca nodded and opened the door, stepping out. The habit of reaching for his mask and cap almost kicked in, but he reminded himself that this was an official setting.


    The air was crisp and clean, carrying a distinct freshness that set it apart from the atmosphere at Trampos'' HQ. It felt purer, as though it had been filtered to perfection. Luca wondered why.


    Perhaps, it was the sheer scale of the facility. Jackson Racing''s HQ was massive, nearly three times the size of Trampos''.


    That meant more main management buildings, a longer training track that stretched into the distance like a winding path to heaven, and a clear separation between the operational areas and the core of the team.


    From the parking lot, the HQ resembled a government complex rather than a racing team''s base. The buildings were sleek and modern with glass facades dull and moody under the grey sky.


    Metallic accents traced the edges of these buildings, reflecting Jackson Racing''s signature colors. Some structures had sharp, angular designs, while others featured aerodynamic curves, mirroring the engineering principles behind their race cars.


    Even from here, Luca could see the sprawling garages and the towering simulator building in the distance.


    Now this was the headquarters of an F1 team, the headquarters of the champion team.


    Luca kept his focus ahead. Even though the size of the facility was impressive, the reality of knowing today was his public investiture had settled in.


    So, he and Vance strode toward the main building, the heart of Jackson Racing''s HQ.


    As they approached the entrance, uniformed security personnel were stationed at key points. Two guards flanked the glass double doors with earpieces that buzzed some information and chatter.


    One of them acknowledged Vance with a nod before scanning Luca briefly.


    "Welcome to Jackson Racing, Mr. Luca," the guard said, stepping aside. The doors slid open, granting them access.


    Inside, the atmosphere shifted immediately. It grew even colder due to the air conditioning, and the sense of professionalism was at an all-time high, with the Jackson Racing logo embedded EVERYWHERE.


    It felt as if the logos served as a constant reminder that loyalty and commitment were not taken lightly here. Every single crew member and clerk worked relentlessly toward the team''s success, both on and off the track.


    Luca silently wondered if Jackson Racing had the same family-like atmosphere Trampos did. From the looks of it, no one really seemed to have time for personal bonding.


    However, the receptionist did give him a particular look.


    But Luca barely had time to take it all in before he spotted the waiting press at the side.


    Several reporters and photographers had already gathered near the designated media zone. He knew they''d be here today, but that didn''t make their presence any more pleasant.


    He nodded to the receptionist, who immediately provided him with the necessary details to proceed to the president''s office as planned.


    Vance stayed behind to give the press a brief statement while Luca moved ahead alone, stepping into the elevator and acknowledging the staff he would soon become familiar with.


    Minutes later, he arrived at the office of Jackson Racing''s president¡ªMr. Huper Palmer.


    Contrary to his expectations, Mr. Fisher''s office at Trampos had been far more luxurious. Fisher''s space blended professionalism with comfort, while Palmer''s was strictly business.


    A single rug, a shelf of books, two boudoir chairs facing a desk, and the president''s high-backed master chair, nothing more, nothing less.


    So far, in this aspect, Trampos 1¡ª0 Jackson Racing, Luca thought with amusement as he settled into his chair.


    Also present in the room was Mr. Pires, the team''s Director of Operations, who played a role similar to Mrs. Doyle at Trampos.


    He paced restlessly behind Mr. Palmer, who remained seated, calmly flipping through a document.


    Luca could tell he was not an easy going man.


    The meeting was focused on the finer details of Luca''s role as a Jackson Racing driver, beyond financial agreements and previously settled matters. This was about performance, expectations, and his integration into the team.


    It was confirmed that Luca would retain his #21, and his status within the team was periodic, meaning he was practically guaranteed a fixed race seat for the entire season.


    But since Di Renzo was termed periodic as well, there might be some competition.


    Jackson Racing''s star driver, Marcellus Rodnick, remained the undisputed No. 1, and Luca would have to compete directly with Di Renzo to claim the No. 2 spot.


    One of the most critical discussions revolved around the chassis he would drive and the engine that powered it.


    Jackson Racing had access to some of the best Ferrari-engineered chassis, and their top three selections were:


    Ferrari JRX-97 (2)


    Ferrari JRX-92B (4)


    Ferrari JRX-88X (8)


    The numbers in brackets indicated how many of each chassis model had been developed, meaning Jackson Racing had only two Ferrari JRX-97s, four JRX-92Bs, and eight JRX-88Xs.


    Typically, an F1 team developed between two and four chassis per season, though the exact number depended on factors like budget, development pace, and crash replacements.


    Luca understood this well, so he was certain the Ferrari JRX-97 wasn''t an option for him. That chassis housed the normal ThunderKat Rodnick piloted, and with only two available, one was undoubtedly reserved as a backup in case of damage or a crash.


    At the conclusion of the meeting, Mr. Palmer and Mr. Pires selected the Ferrari JRX-92B chassis for Luca, the same model piloted by Di Renzo. Each of them would have two chassis allocated.


    For the power unit, they paired it with the Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056 (A-Level) engine, an optimal choice for standard F1 competition.


    Perfect.


    Luca was eager to synchronize with the car and register it into his system, knowing that his goal was to push it and the engine to S-level.


    To his surprise, Mr. Palmer and Mr. Pires also informed him that he would immediately begin a Gold Training Program, focusing on piloting chassis powered by HiCEs.


    Palmer mentioned that while they anticipated two or three HiCE units in the next four years, only one would be introduced this season due to budget constraints.


    Luca had no doubt that Rodnick would be the one to drive that single S-level engine when it arrived. He wondered if Rodnick was ready.


    Rising to his feet, Luca sealed the meeting with firm handshakes to both men. Their gazes lingered on him, silently demanding results and nothing less.


    "Shall we head to the cameras?" Palmer asked, buttoning his suit and motioning toward the door.


    "Sure," Luca replied smoothly. Day 1 being a Silver Stallion.

 Chapter 269 - 269: Welcome To Jackson Racing. 2

    Luca saw the Ferrari JRX-92B that day when he stepped into the garages for his official team introduction.


    Seeing a Jackson Racing Ferrari up close was breathtaking. The car looked less like a machine from the early 21st century and more like something ripped straight from a sci-fi movie.


    Its design was both aggressive and elegant, with a nose that tapered into a razor-sharp point. Every inch of it gleamed in Jackson Racing''s signature futuristic colors.


    The aerodynamic curves were sculpted for pure speed, and the chassis was adorned with sponsor logos. Some of these companies Luca knew well as even rivals of other major sponsors.


    As part of his investiture, he was allowed to touch the beast, and he even took an official photo with it.


    He could barely contain his anticipation. Any Formula 1 car¡ªespecially this one¡ªwas bound to feel worlds apart from the F2 04 he had been driving. The thrill of something new was calling to him.


    During the inspection, he discreetly activated his system. Since he was extremely close to the car¡ªso close that even Rookie Bundle''s proximity scan would work¡ªhe let it analyze every detail.


    [Car Specifications:


    Brand: Ferrari


    Model: JRX-92B


    Engine Type: Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056


    Weight: 800 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 350 km/h (0 km/h)


    Acceleration: 2.5 sec


    Max Power: 1050 HP


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 3.5 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 50%


    Tire Condition: Used


    Telemetry Status: Inactive


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    "How about the main status? Can I get it, or do I have to register the car first?"


    [Yes, host.]


    [Host must register the chassis before gaining full access to its status.]


    [However, the system will grant a one-time demo trial as a preview for the host.]


    "Thanks!"


    [Generating demo trial car status...]


    [..... Generation complete.]


    [Car Information:


    Car Name: Ferrari (JRX-92B)


    Chassis: JRX-92B Chassis


    Engine: Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056 ]


    ----------------------------


    [Performance Information:


    Top Speed: 350 km/h


    Acceleration: 2.5 s (0-100 km/h)


    Aerodynamics: 20


    Downforce: 24


    Braking Efficiency: 20


    Handling: 15


    Tire Wear Management: 15 ]


    -------------------------------


    [Engine Features: (A) Rating


    -High-Speed Dominance: 5


    -Heat Management: 5


    -Longevity (Superior to <Great Stamina> (B) Rating feature): 5 ]


    -------------------------------


    [Skills:


    ¡ªGripper: 5 ]


    -------------------------------


    Luca quickly spotted key differences, particularly in top speed and acceleration, since he knew the F2 04''s specifications by heart.


    The 92B was clearly faster¡ªexpected of any F1 car¡ªbut its true strength actually lied in raw speed.


    The system had already sourced out and categorized its engine''s defining trait as High-Speed Dominance, confirming Luca''s observations. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When it came to attributes, Luca only recalled Tire Management (8) from the F2 04, and now, the gap between the two machines was evident. As for the rest, he hadn''t memorized their exact values.


    Curious about a direct comparison, he wondered if the system had a feature that would allow him to contrast the F2 04 and the 92B side by side.


    As if responding to his thoughts, the system activated.


    [Host has unlocked the Chassis Comparison Feature as part of Professional Bundle privileges.]


    [Host can now compare a registered chassis with another currently under analysis.]


    [For example, Chassis X (registered) will be contrasted with Chassis Y (under analysis).]


    [A third chassis cannot be added, nor can a chassis not currently analyzed be compared.]


    [Host has not unlocked infinite comparison capabilities.]


    Luca smiled. "So Top Driver Bundle must have the unlimited comparison feature."


    "Still, this is useful," he acknowledged. "I''ll definitely make use of it."


    But for now, he had other priorities.


    "Analyze the engine for me. I want to see what it''s truly about," he instructed. "I''ll check the comparison later."


    Standing in the garage, surrounded by cameras, silver stallions and media personnel, Luca knew he''d need to find some private time before diving into something as detailed, numerical, and precise as a full chassis comparison.


    "I remember you once said at Professional Bundle I don''t need to have been previously synced with the car before getting access to its engine info?"


    [Affirmative, host!]


    [Data on Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056 can be retrieved]


    [Retrieving Data...]


    [.... Data Retrieved]


    [The Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056, classified as an A-level engine, is specifically designed for high-performance F1 competition. It features a 1.6L V6 turbocharged hybrid power unit, delivering approximately 1,050 hp and 1,000 Nm of torque. The advanced hybrid system integrates a cutting-edge MGU-K, capable of deploying an additional 160 kW of power, MAXIMIZING ACCELERATION and ENERGY RECOVERY efficiency.]


    [This power unit embodies the philosophy of HIGH-SPEED Dominance, optimized for superior straight-line performance and rapid throttle response. With an advanced thermal regulation system, high-efficiency intercoolers, optimized oil circulation, and an active COOLING PACKAGE, the Turbo-Hybrid 056 ensures STABLE PERFORMANCE EVEN UNDER EXTREME LOAD CONDITIONS.]


    [The Mercedes-AMG M239 Hybrid Power Unit is essential for teams aiming to maximize performance while maintaining reliability across multiple race weekends, ensuring a level playing field in the championship.]


    [Reinforced by a hybrid energy recovery optimization, it reduces strain on internal combustion components. High-tensile alloy construction and low-friction coatings extend the ENGINE''S LIFESPAN while MAINTAINING PEAK power output across multiple race weekends.]


    [The Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056 is a cornerstone of <Ferrari>, designed to extract peak performance while ensuring reliability throughout an intense race calendar. It is a vital component for achieving podium finishes and securing championship points.]


    From what Luca had just read, he ranked the 056 and the 92B as one of the best combos on the grid.


    Of course, that was partly because he hadn''t yet analyzed the stats of other cars in detail. But being in a team like Jackson Racing, he''d have plenty of opportunities to compare and determine which setups truly stood at the top.


    "No nickname for the engine? These alphanumeric codes might get confusing."


    [System does not recognize a widely known nickname for the Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056.]


    [Only significant engines receive nicknames, based on the following criteria:


    ¡ª Standard engines for a division (e.g., F2''s SomberCore, F3''s Ruggente)


    ¡ª Top three best engines in the top division (e.g., ThunderKat, Warpburner, Tempesta)


    ¡ª The best engines from the top five teams (e.g., ThunderKat, Warpburner, Tempesta, Rotterbad, FiammaVeloce) ]


    "No problem. I''ll just give it my own nickname for better communication," Luca said, pondering for a moment. "A fitting name would be FiveSix, since it''s the Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056."


    [Perfect, host!]


    [System will nickname Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056 as FiveSix once it is registered.]


    After the formal introduction of Luca to his engine, the investiture shifted to the press, leading to a brief conference inside one of the buildings.


    Seated alone at the conference table, Luca faced the usual press inquiries, ranging from standard career questions to more in-depth discussions about how he envisioned himself adapting to Jackson Racing''s technology and infrastructure.


    At one point, he casually suggested into the microphone that they refer to the Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056 as FiveSix for easier flow. The reporters responded positively, finding the name catchy and practical.


    Right after that, one journalist leaned forward with an intriguing follow-up.


    "Speaking of nicknames, Luca, a lot of people are calling you The Mazerunner now. It really took off after last season''s Monza. How do you feel about that name?"


    Luca chuckled unintentionally. He had seen Mazerunner mentioned in the papers before and had even heard it thrown around in passing, but he had never given it much thought.


    F1 drivers often carried nicknames like Rodnick, for example, was widely known as The Apex Predator of F1. Thinking about it now, Luca realized Mazerunner actually had a nice ring to it.


    "I think it''s a cool nickname, and I appreciate whoever came up with it," he said, speaking back into the microphone.


    Just then, a system notification chimed in.


    [Ding!]


    [All criteria met to acquire a Nickname.]


    [¡ª Fans & Spectators Use


    ¡ª The Press Use


    ¡ª Official F1 Press Use]


    [Host''s Personal Stats have been updated.]


    [Please review your status as soon as possible.]

 Chapter 270 - 270: Welcome To Jackson Racing. 3

    Luca''s introduction to Jackson Racing went smoothly and professionally. He met with all the key crew members and confidently assured them that he was here to make progress.


    Rodnick wasn''t present that day, but a few other drivers were, including Di Renzo.


    However, Luca was too caught up with other matters to have personal discussions with them. There would be plenty of time for that once the season began.


    To his surprise, Jackson Racing had more than the four drivers he initially thought. In total, there were eight registered under the team, with the others being younger drivers, some even younger than Luca himself.


    Rumors suggested that Jackson Racing was planning to establish a junior team in the feeder series below them.


    That seemed like the logical place for these young drivers to start since Luca couldn''t imagine them competing alongside seasoned names like Di Renzo and Rodnick, let alone Rossi, who had been the main driver of the team two seasons ago.


    It had been a long day, but Luca managed to wrap up his investiture, especially after Mallow and Sara arrived as planned.


    Together, they concluded any remaining discussions with the Jackson board before finally taking their leave to retire for some respite.


    Later that day, Luca was officially set to move into the villa he had recently purchased.


    It was located in Knightsbridge, one of London''s most prestigious areas, known for its luxury residences and exclusivity. Luca had to admit. It had cost him a lot.


    Technically, he was moving in, but it didn''t quite feel that way, so he didn''t refer to it as such. With the few belongings he had with him, he and his group made their way to Knightsbridge, where the villa awaited.


    They pulled up to the villa minutes later. From the entrance of the hilly region, the opulence of the place was already on display.


    Luca loved the way the white modern architecture stood tall behind the gate and fence. All exterior lights were glowing even in the day, and the smooth driveway led them to the gate, which had already recognized their arrival and was sliding open automatically.


    Mallow and Sara followed behind in their own car and finally stopped in the garage, everyone stepping out to take in the fresh scent of nature.


    "You must be the luckiest property customer in the world," Mallow said, spinning around. "You get the house in Dahlem for a lower price, and then you get this one without hassle."


    The villa was breathtaking, mostly because of the stunning view of the surrounding landscape filled with valleys, greenery, and rolling hills.


    Then for the complex-shaped building itself, everything about it was white except for the flat roof, which had a tan-orange color of luxury.


    There were large glass windows from floor to ceiling and open terraces, bringing indoor and outdoor living together as one.


    The outdoors featured the green lawn and the swimming pool, which attracted the sunlight hiding behind the clouds. And there was a pergola sitting area just like the one at his other house in Dahlem.


    Luca compared both exteriors of the houses to determine which was better in that aspect.


    The house in Dahlem was slightly bigger, and though it was modern, it had a more definite shape than the villa''s sophisticated facade. Both were painted white and had similar windows.


    The villa''s pool was bigger and the lawn greener, though there was an absence of any trees that might cause clusters of fallen leaves.


    So far, the villa was better, but it definitely didn''t give the warmth of home the house in Dahlem did.


    Luca just realized he had two properties in different countries, and he might have to sell the house in Dahlem if that became the case.


    They all entered the building to relax and have refreshments after a long day. The inside of the villa was even more luxurious than the outside. So many rooms looked alike, all because of the white walls.


    "I already hired cleaners, a gardener, and maintenance staff," Sara announced as she walked into the kitchen area, setting her purse down on the marble countertop.


    "I''m not going to let you neglect this place the way you did with your house in Dahlem. Thinking you could manage everything yourself while being a full-time Formula driver was ridiculous."


    Luca exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn''t neglect it that bad¡­"


    Sara wanted to start mentioning everything, but Luca caught her off with appreciation. "Thank you, ma! I appreciate the workers!"


    ---------------


    It was evening now, and darkness had completely taken over the sky.


    The swimming pool at the villa no longer reflected the golden rays of the sun but instead captured the moon''s ethereal white glow, along with the warm illumination from the house and the exterior lights spread around the property.


    The workers would begin their duties tomorrow, so for now, Luca was alone for the night. His team had left just two hours ago, and the silence of the villa had fully settled in.


    He could handle himself just fine. Earlier, he had managed to make something to eat for lunch, and afterward, he finally got in an evening gym session, something he had been meaning to do for a while.


    After a long shower, he wrapped himself snugly in a thick house coat and served himself a cup of hot chocolate.


    He stood by one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out into the abyss beyond, his mind wandering.


    For a brief moment, he imagined the possibility of a thief or even a wild animal lurking in the darkness, spying on him from the shadows.


    The thought was absurd. Luca let out a small chuckle and took a slow sip of his chocolate.


    The villa was empty now, but that wouldn''t be the case for long. He had plans.


    He would wait until things between him and Isabella had advanced further, until Mr. Sch?fer had finally exhausted himself with all the friction he had been causing. S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Once Isabella was legally free from all restrictions, with no one left to dictate her choices, he would invite her to move in.


    It would be risky. But he would take the risk.


    Luca sank into the couch and navigated to the motorsports channel, hoping to catch up on some news.


    On the screen, a certain reporter, Mr. Callum Voss, sat at a discussion table, already deep in conversation with the host.


    Luca knew Mr. Voss well, he was notorious for stirring controversy and never missing a chance to criticize the FIA.


    No matter the decision, Voss found a way to condemn it, making a career out of questioning their authority and regulations.


    He never bothered with race analytics or technical breakdowns. Instead, he thrived on drama, always pushing narratives that kept the motorsports world on edge.


    This night, it seemed Voss was criticizing the authorization of the use of HiCEs on the track.


    Luca understood that one. Plenty of people had voiced their concerns, so maybe, for once, Voss wasn''t the only one against something.


    Still, Luca was curious to hear what the man had to say.


    "¡­It''s nonsensical! It''s absurd and outright stupid to validate such a standard!" Voss declared, his voice loud and his hands gesturing wildly.


    "But the FIA explained everything in the¡ª" the host in a sharp navy suit attempted to interject, but Voss immediately cut him off.


    "Do these regulations even consider balance? What if a team pairs these so-called Super Engines with a weak chassis? What then? We''ll have a second Aldo incident nearly two decades later!"


    "Mr. Voss¡ª"


    "These regulations need strict and absolute control! The hunger for innovation and machinery is dangerous!"


    Wow, Luca thought. This guy is really passionate about his opinion.


    "We will lose competition, the tension, everything that makes this the best sport in the world!" Voss ranted.


    The host chuckled at that, glancing at the cameras for a brief second. "But won''t this higher standard increase competition instead?"


    "It''ll do the opposite!" Voss shot back. "Once the bigger teams perfect these Super Engines, what''s left for the smaller teams? Every round, every race, the same drivers will dominate. There''ll be no unpredictability!"


    That''s actually true¡­ Luca thought.


    But his eyes widened when the so-called mad reporter dropped something he didn''t expect to hear.


    "Take Trampos Racing, for example¡ªthe new addition to Formula 1," Voss continued. "Tell me, Ralph, what are their chances of competing in this new structure? This is madness! I say the...."


    The rest of his words faded into white noise as Luca sat up and grabbed his phone. He needed to be sure.


    Navigating to the F1 application, he didn''t have to search far. It was the top headline since it was just announced about an hour ago.


    "THE FIA CHOOSES F2 CHAMPIONS TRAMPOS RACING AS NEVADA''S REPLACEMENT"


    Below it was a Monza podium photo, capturing their championship celebratory moment.

 Chapter 271 - 271: Welcome To Jackson Racing. 4

    Luca could still hardly believe that Trampos was the team appointed to replace Nevada HanSama in F1. It was the most stunning news in the chain of surprising events currently taking place in the world of motorsport.


    Trampos Racing in Formula 1?


    Trampos had been one of the three teams that made the shortlist¡ªRetona, Hatcherk, and Trampos.


    At times, Luca wondered why he hadn''t anticipated this sooner because he had been expecting Squadra Jnr and Velocit¨¤ Jnr to top this choice.


    But Luca had totally forgotten they were junior teams for a reason and could never be in the same division as their senior team.


    It was just like duplicating the same team instead of granting space for another name.


    When it came to the shortlist, then, it was obvious Trampos had won this decision.


    They were the current F2 champions and had a huge point tally over Hatcherk and Retona, meaning they had been far better last season and could execute the same performance in F1.


    Luca''s stomach churned when he recalled that he was the one responsible for that huge points tally.


    Another reason the FIA believed Trampos Racing would be a good fit was its current financial backing.


    Now that Mr. Lema?tre was part of the ownership, Trampos Racing had received a significant boost in finances, pushing them to at least the low financial standard of an F1 team.


    As long as "low" fell within the value criteria.


    Luca didn''t want to see Trampos entering F1 only to suffer and become the team that stayed at the very bottom from Round 1 to the finale.


    Since they were stepping up to F1, he wanted to see strength, ambition, and rage from them.


    Luca wanted them rivaling the top teams, not struggling with the lower ones like Iberia Grand Prix.


    He knew his expectations were a bit high, but a few years would help build that strength.


    The third reason the FIA had chosen Trampos Racing to replace Nevada was rooted in national representation and historical significance.


    Trampos was a German team, and Germany had a rich and storied legacy in motorsport, with deep ties to Formula 1.


    It was home to some great drivers in history and automotive manufacturers that had long shaped the evolution of the sport.


    Given this, the FIA saw it as a wise and strategic move to ensure that a German team was present on the grid.


    Hatcherk Motorsport, on the other hand, was an English team. While they had performed relatively well in the feeder series competition and had a solid foundation, there were already two established English teams on the grid.


    If the FIA had chosen Hatcherk over Trampos, they would have risked overloading the grid with yet another British team, further skewing the balance of national representation in Formula 1.


    So, the FIA selected Trampos not only as a decision based to ensure the global nature of Formula 1 remained intact, but also to merit and sate the German minority group that had been grumbling for some time now.


    And so just as a team in red was temporarily leaving its post, another team in red was replacing them.


    Luca still found it hard to believe.


    So Mr. Grant would become an F1 Team Principal? Ms. Vallotton as well?


    I do realize I''m going to compete against them? Luca mused to himself. And when I do, I hope it won''t be taken personally.


    As for the team itself, Luca held a glimmer of hope that they would understand that he had committed himself to another team now, that his career had moved forward. But when it came to the German fans? He wasn''t so sure.


    Luca had deliberately tuned out any news regarding his ''departure'' from Trampos, choosing instead to focus solely on coverage related to his ''entry'' into Formula 1.


    They were two entirely different things.


    News of his F1 debut was filled with excitement, gossip, analysis, optimism, and speculation. While news of his departure from Trampos held some gossip but was mixed with sadness, heartfelt tributes, and words of farewell from fans who didn''t want to say goodbye.


    Luca knew that if he wanted to focus on his new journey, he had to keep himself from dwelling on those emotional farewells. Otherwise, stepping onto the track against Trampos would feel heavier than it should.


    Luca wondered which engine manufacturer Trampos would even partner with.


    Definitely not Mercedes.


    Definitely not Red Bull.


    Definitely not Ferrari¡ªhe''d be damned if that happened.


    But he was no god. Anything could happen, and if Trampos managed to gain the favor of a strong engine supplier, one willing to overlook their finances and take a chance on them, things could get interesting.


    Then again, an engine manufacturer wouldn''t just take a risk for nothing. If they backed Trampos, it meant they had confidence the team could deliver strong performances. And these performances should justify the investment.


    And that was where Luca had his doubts.


    How many great drivers did Trampos even have capable of producing performances worthy of Formula 1?


    As far as he recalled, the team hadn''t signed any new talent during the break, and with the window now closed, that wasn''t going to change.


    So, for their debut season in Formula 1, Trampos was heading into the fight with what?


    Beanie? Haas? And¡­ Ansel.


    Luca slowed his thoughts as Ansel''s name infiltrated them.


    He stroked his chin, absorbing the weight of his realization.


    Ansel''s suspension had elapsed. He was ready for competition again. Which meant¡­ Ansel would be in Formula 1 this season.


    Luca couldn''t believe it!


    It felt like a twist of fate, as if the seven heavens had just received their applause for the grand puppet show they had orchestrated.


    Ansel had wanted to be in F1, and now here he was¡­ in F1.


    Luca had wanted to be in F1 after just one season in F2, and now here he was¡­ in F1.


    Then why had fate made it seem impossible back when they were teammates? Why had it spun a prophecy that only one of them would be credited for the path ahead?


    Yet here they were, both stepping onto the biggest stage in motorsport.


    Luca sighed, shaking his head.


    So, their conflict had been for nothing. And now, just when he expected to enter F1 alone, Ansel was right there with him.


    Luca wondered how Ansel felt about it. The guy hadn''t even moved a muscle since August last year to secure a spot in F1, yet here he was.


    And in some ironic way, Luca himself was the reason Ansel had made it. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    If Ansel couldn''t even stomach finishing second in F2, he had a lot to learn in F1, where the power disparity between cars was brutal and pure skill made up only 30% of the victory equation.


    If Trampos managed to secure backing from a strong engine manufacturer, that''d be fine but it would take time since the season was just about to begin. But at least they''d be competitive.


    But if they had to make do with the F2 04 and its B-level engine for a few races until a decision was made?


    Luca could already see their name stamped in 10th place.


    It was here Luca propagated the Chassis Comparison so he could see how far low was the F2 04 compared to his 92B


    [Chassis Comparison]


    [Retrieving Data from registered car and car under analysis....]


    [...Data successfully retrieved!]


    [Selected Modes:


    ¡ªDallara (F2 04)


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B) ]


    [POWER & PERFORMANCE:


    ¡ªDallara (F2 04): 80% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 96%???


    [AERODYNAMICS & CHASSIS:


    ¡ªDallara (F2 04): 76% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 93%???


    [HANDLING & DYNAMICS:


    ¡ªDallara (F2 04): 86% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [ENDURANCE & RELIABILITY:


    ¡ªDallara (F2 04): 90% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [TECHNOLOGICAL INTEGRATION:


    ¡ªDallara (F2 04): 77% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%??? ]


    [Review: Ferrari (JRX-92B) is built for podiums, while Dallara (F2 04) is built for survival.]


    "Damn. It only came close in Endurance and Reliability."


    "But I was thinking you''d give me a detailed comparison with their figures and all that."


    [That''d be too large to incorporate, host.]


    [System has calculated the figures inwardly and provided accurate results under important categories.]


    Luca could clearly see the overwhelming difference between the Dallara and the Ferrari, making him realize just how much F1 action he had been missing.


    If the JRX-92B was this good, then Rodnick''s JRX-97 had to be hitting 100% in every category.


    There was no way this was the competition Trampos had planned to survive in¡ªright?


    Luca decided to stop thinking about Trampos and focus on the road ahead in Jackson Racing.


    The season had officially begun and the calendar foretold 20 races for the F1 competition this year with the Mega Prix scheduled to be hosted by the United Arab Emirates.


    For now, the next thing in line was the livery unveil event, where all participating teams would reveal their new liveries, uniforms, and official lineup.


    In truth, this event was more than just a reveal, it was the moment that cemented each team''s place in the championship, presenting them to the world along with their drivers and official numbers.


    Luca had already seen Jackson Racing''s new design. It still carried the essence of the old one but with sharper accents and a bolder presence. He really liked it.

 Chapter 272 - 272: Welcome To Jackson Racing. 5

    The Livery Unveil event was scheduled to be held in Monte Carlo, Monaco, because the first round of the season would be the Monaco Grand Prix.


    Luca hadn''t been in Monaco since April last year, and now, here he was, arriving in just the first week of March.


    The realization of how fast time flies hit Luca like a wrecking ball, and he found himself considering whether he had officially entered old-man territory.


    On the Friday of the week, Luca and his team boarded the Hawthorne plane, making sure to gather everything they''d need to stay throughout and until the end of the first round of the season.


    This meant that until after the Monaco Grand Prix, there would be no returning to London.


    Because of this, Luca had made sure to get in a few rounds of fencing with Adrian, who had begun teaching him some professional moves.


    Beyond that, he had also resumed his driving lessons. There had been a setback due to the scandal, delaying his plans to get his license as early as he had intended. Regardless, the lessons had continued.


    Landing in Monaco, Luca momentarily forgot he was on team duty. It almost felt like he was here on a whim for personal plans.


    He cussed at himself for the slip and quickly put on his headphones, hoping the action would remind his body that serious business was just around the corner.


    Still, he blamed Jackson Racing for this.


    They were so professional and official that hardly anyone ever flew together, except for department crews. Even within those, Luca had heard that the higher-ups had their own separate flights, leaving the lower crew members to travel on their own.


    Luca knew he had started taking the Hawthorne jet even before joining Jackson Racing, but at least back then, he used to discuss travel plans with Mr. Fisher and the others.


    But here in Jackson, there was not a chance for that.


    Everyone was just forwarded the itinerary and the team''s plans, and that was it. No discussions, no back-and-forth. And to make it worse, no one could even respond to the messages because they were encrypted for the sender alone!


    Luca sighed as a new notification popped up on his phone, from the very same app he had just been thinking about.


    It wasn''t like the green one McCauley and Colt had introduced. This one had a sleeker, more serious interface¡ªblue, black, and white¡ªbearing official colors with small text and neatly arranged tabs.


    And now, the team''s center for the first round had just been forwarded.


    Luca read the facility''s name out loud, doing his best as an English speaker to pronounce it correctly, before gripping his bag tighter and moving smoothly through immigration.


    The first day was for everyone to unwind, while the second day was set aside for a gathering, a head count and a detailed rundown of how their reveal would be carried out, along with everything else leading up to the first race of the season.


    Luca recognized a few places in Monaco from his stay almost a year ago. Everything still looked vivid and luxurious, a perfect setting for the reveal event and the ideal way to kick off the new season in style.


    After dedicating an entire day to himself¡ªworking out, completing a standard-level Daily Quest with no rewards or punishment, reading a novel, playing tennis, and catching up on news updates¡ªthe following day, Luca, Manuela, and Vance drove to the facility designated for Jackson Racing for the first round of the season.


    As expected, it was far bigger and more advanced than the facility that had hosted Trampos for the Monaco Grand Prix last year.


    Formula 1, being the division that held precedence over its feeder series, meant its teams should be treated accordingly.


    Luca greeted everyone as he arrived, and in return, everyone he greeted answered neutrally and formally, their focus already set on the day ahead.


    So far, Luca hadn''t gotten to know anyone personally. Conversations he had with anyone rarely went deep as everyone kept things strictly work-related, cutting discussions short before they could turn personal.


    And Luca himself didn''t bother approaching those he assumed wouldn''t entertain anything beyond the track.


    Even Rodnick, whom Luca had held some hope for, was more distant than expected.


    They had spoken a few times when Rodnick had congratulated him on joining the team, introduced him to some crew members, and given him an informal orientation based on his own intuition about how to start off in F1.


    Other than that, Luca hadn''t seen any real opening to build chemistry for strong teamwork on the track.


    Luca didn''t want to sound disappointed, but Jackson Racing seemed to have adapted to his addition incredibly quickly¡ªtoo quickly.


    And while that was a good thing, it wasn''t necessarily good for him.


    They had efficiently taken him in as one of their own, attending to his every driver-related need¡ªgetting his body measurements for his racing suits, fitting his helmet, and ensuring everything was in order.


    It was all done so smoothly and seamlessly, without the slightest bit of friction.


    But for Luca, that wasn''t ideal. He hoped to cope quickly because Jackson Racing moved as if he had already been part of the team for a while.


    Normally, in the usual circumstances of life when a new person joined a group, there was a natural process where others would devote extra attention to creating a comfortable atmosphere before gradually integrating them into the fold.


    Luca was just learning in Jackson Racing that there was no process like that, and it seemed to everyone that he had been a Jackson Racing driver for a while now.


    So far, it had been Mr. Matthews and Mr. Berry who had given Luca extra time beyond official discussions¡ªmostly Mr. Matthews.


    A fresh-looking man in his early forties, with dark hair, an average height, and a calm demeanor. It was no surprise he understood the importance of not just professionally welcoming a new driver but making sure they felt truly integrated into the team.


    Right now, he stood at the center of the main room, addressing the entire team, including Luca, as he laid out the plans for the week.


    Luca sat with his arms folded, listening attentively when he felt a casual tap on his shoulder. S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Sorry, mate. Can I sit here?" a crew member asked, gesturing toward the empty seat beside him.


    Luca nodded, slightly surprised by the guy''s easygoing tone.


    As expected, the guy sat down and put all his focus on Mr. Matthews'' words.


    This was exactly what stood out to Luca about the atmosphere at Jackson Racing. It was different from what he had expected, in a way he hadn''t quite figured out yet.

 Chapter 273 - 273: S2 Unveil Event

    Livery Unveil Day: Mar. 7, Grimaldi Forum, Monte Carlo, Monaco. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The evening of the Livery Unveil Event had been set, and a crowd had gathered at the Grimaldi Forum, located next to the Mediterranean Sea itself.


    Everywhere was bathed in a golden twilight, and the crescent moon was already up and high in the sky, naturally illuminating the yachts and canoes that lined the harbor.


    Many high-profile guests, including sponsors and journalists, had already made their way into the architecture for the event, while only a few racing enthusiasts¡ªabout just a hundred¡ªwere let into the venue.


    Beyond the location, security struggled to keep the remaining hundreds away. It was as if the sea breeze was fueling their determination to witness the unveil in person rather than through the press broadcast already taking place inside.


    However, in an event that required drivers to come on stage, interact closely with fans, and sign autographs afterward, the FIA deemed it essential to regulate attendance.


    Given the potential for large crowds and extensive physical contact, they decided to allow only a limited number of fans inside.


    At the very least, those gathered outside got a good view of the team buses and trucks rolling in.


    Each time a team passed, their respective fans erupted into cheers, waving their flags enthusiastically.


    Luca didn''t know how many teams had made it in before them, but the crowd cheered as they steadily drove past, the headlights of their buses cutting through the darkness.


    Jackson Racing had an impressive, well-coordinated formation whenever they arrived at a venue, effortlessly commanding attention.


    Luca was certain this unique arrangement stemmed from the fact that the team rarely traveled together in unison.


    So when they did, it had to be carefully planned and executed with perfection, ensuring a smooth and orderly arrival.


    Luca was inside one of the buses, seated by a window¡ªhis favorite position.


    He had removed his headphones buzzing with music when the cityscape faded away, meaning the transports had veered off into a venue.


    Luca glanced around Bus 4 as they pulled into the venue.


    He shared the bus with his fellow Silver Ferrari drivers and a few crew members, like the Chinese man seated beside him, who seemed deeply focused on his laptop screen, analyzing what looked like a market graph. The man appeared to be around 50.


    Everyone else was occupied with something. Rodnick, for example, seemed to have a similar pre-event ritual involving music because he had his own headphones on, his head leaned back, eyes closed, completely absorbed in his own world.


    Di Renzo was engaged in conversation with another driver, Thompson, who, like Luca, was just 19 years old.


    Eddy, the team''s crew leader¡ªmuch like how McCauley was to Trampos¡ªwas also on board. Luca couldn''t shake the thought that Eddy and McCauley might be brothers or at least related in some way because their resemblance was damn uncanny.


    The bus staggered as they dipped into a tunnel, causing the interior lights to flicker on, briefly illuminating everyone inside.


    Luca noticed that Rodnick and the others who had been taking a quick nap stirred awake, jolted by the movement.


    "We''re here, guys," Eddy said in a soft, drowsy tone and rose to his feet, even though the bus was still moving through the tunnel, the echo of the engines ahead and behind bouncing off the walls.


    They finally came to a stop, and the team disembarked, not a single word spoken to each other until the other buses stopped as well, and everyone reunited into a crowd.


    Luca rubbed his sensitive eyes, momentarily blinded by the bright lights in the tunnel. He did his best to adapt to Jackson Racing and followed silently into the room spaces accommodated by them.


    The venue workers welcomed them, and the FIA marked their presence.


    It felt like a place of real official duty as there were flight boxes everywhere, and even when their trucks arrived with the sheathed Ferraris, they were handled with the utmost care, assisted by equipment Luca hadn''t seen before.


    Inside their designated space, the atmosphere remained professional and disciplined. Luca followed the others inside, adjusting his headphones as he observed the setup.


    Everything was neatly arranged in the large space, obviously to accommodate them all until it''d be time to step out on stage.


    Tables were lined with refreshments, but few reached for them. Instead, team members quietly ran through schedules and last-minute adjustments.


    Luca, Di Renzo, and Rodnick stood off to one side, waiting for Mr. Matthews, who had something important to discuss with them.


    It was about which two drivers from Jackson Racing would stand on stage to showcase the new racing suit designs.


    With more than two drivers on the team, only a select pair would get the spotlight, and that was the dilemma Mr. Matthews had to resolve.


    Luca couldn''t shake the unease creeping up on him. Would he be chosen to stand alongside Rodnick? Rodnick''s spot was a given¡ªthere was no question about that. But Luca wasn''t as certain about himself.


    When Mr. Matthews finally pushed the door open and walked in, his eyes immediately found Di Renzo. Without hesitation, he approached, placed a firm hand on Di Renzo''s shoulder, and guided him aside for a quiet conversation.


    Luca didn''t need to hear the words to understand what had just been decided. He was the one who would be standing on stage.


    Honestly, he''d expected Di Renzo to have the upper hand. The guy had been with the team longer, while Luca himself was still a fresh addition.


    But it seemed, once again, Mr. Matthews might have prioritized that integration once again, or maybe just another reason.


    Either way, Luca wasn''t about to overanalyze it. He was immensely grateful to showcase the designs tonight.


    He accepted the ironed suit in its transparent nylon covering and the helmet, nodding in acknowledgment, though Rodnick, as expected, barely reacted.


    Luca glanced around the room, half-expecting to catch a flicker of doubt in someone''s expression, some unspoken thought that he didn''t deserve this.


    But no one seemed to care. Not even Di Renzo. Their eyes were elsewhere, their minds already moving forward.


    They really don''t give a shit...


    Luca peeled the transparent nylon away, revealing the pristine suit folded neatly inside.


    What a beauty, he thought as it felt weightless yet sturdy between his fingers.


    The suit even looked aerodynamic while it was still in Luca''s hands with the blue and lines of white shimmering under the overhead lights above him.


    Without another thought, Luca began to put it on, casting a glance at Rodnick who was just starting, taking his time.


    Beyond the thick walls of their space, Luca began to hear the thrum and pulse of music, the bass vibrating through the floor.


    The event had begun, and the voice of the host was now echoing from the stage as if he was hyping the crowd to cheer even louder.


    Luca zipped up the suit and adjusted the straps. Then, without him even asking, a few crew members rushed to him like robots to ensure everything was secured.


    Eddy opened the door wide and moved his head. "Let''s go."


    ---------


    "Ladies and gentlemen, motorsport fans from all over the world¡ªit''s almost time!"


    Whistles. Applause, Cheer.


    The host''s voice kept booming through the venue once again, amplified by the massive sound system.


    Luca and Rodnick stood in a booth off to the side, shrouded in darkness. The audience couldn''t see them, but from where they stood, they had a full view of the electrified crowd.


    Similar booths were scattered across the venue, each housing other drivers dressed in their team''s newly revealed designs. While they couldn''t see each other, they could all see the grand spectacle before them.


    The main stage was a masterpiece of modern spectacle. Bright, sweeping lights beamed across the venue in alternating patterns of the different colors of the F1 logo.


    A sleek, elevated runway stretched out toward the crowd, gleaming under the floodlights. The main stage connected to the runway and now, the main stage was occupied by ten different objects¡ªclearly the cars¡ªdraped in white cloths, covering the whole chassis.


    Rodnick leaned slightly forward. "Which one''s ours?"


    "The sixth to the right!" Eddy called back over the noise.


    Luca''s eyes followed the direction, observing how the sweeping lights cast perfectly timed glows on their car''s silhouette. "Very nice spot."


    "Yeah! Y''know, I saw Velocit¨¤''s!"


    Both Luca and Rodnick turned toward Eddy in unison. "Really?"


    Eddy grinned. "Yeah! Caught a quick glimpse¡ªabsolute horror. Looks like someone spilled paint on it!"


    For the first time since joining Jackson Racing, Luca laughed with someone else¡ªtwo people, in fact.


    Relief came with the laughter. It felt natural. It felt right.


    And it made Luca look forward to more.


    "Gaffer wants a last word¡ªlet''s go!" Eddy called out, already leading the way back toward the tunnel where Mr. Matthews stood, engaged in conversation with someone else.


    Luca was about to follow when something tugged at his leg.


    Frowning, he turned around, but he saw nothing.


    Then he looked down.


    His eyes widened in sheer disbelief as a small face peered up at him.


    "Luca? What''s wrong?!" Eddy yelled over the noise, pausing when he realized Luca wasn''t tagging along.


    Luca barely registered his voice. His mind was still reeling from the sight of Emma¡ªAnsel''s little niece¡ªstanding right there in the booth.


    What the hell was she doing here?


    "Who the fuck is this kid?" Eddy blurted out.


    "Language, Eddy," Rodnick scolded as he returned. "That''s a little girl."


    Emma clutched a small plush pony, the one Ken had gotten her. Her bright eyes flickered between the men, curiosity shifting into uncertainty. But when she looked at Luca, it was as if she expected him to save her.


    "Do you know her?"


    "Your daughter?"


    "He''s not married, Eddy."


    Luca swallowed hard, reaching down to take Emma''s hand and gently guiding her out of the booth. "She''s the daughter of someone I know," he explained. "I had no idea she was here."


    Bending slightly, he met her gaze. "What are you doing here, little one? Your uncle''s around?"


    "Yes, he is," Emma answered sweetly, but her eyes flickered warily toward Eddy, as if he were some kind of monster.


    "You should be with him and Aunt Laura, not here," Luca told her, exhaling before adding in a quieter voice, "this is enemy territory."


    Emma''s expression twisted into a frown before she suddenly reached up and pinched Luca''s shoulder.


    "You are not my enemy."


    Eddy groaned, already exhausted by this bizarre exchange. He crouched down to Emma''s level, giving her Trampos team shirt a pointed glance. "Whether you like it or not, chap," he said, "he''s your enemy. Now move along to your family."


    Luca shook his head, standing back up. "It''s not safe for a six-year-old to be wandering around here. I''ll take her to the nearest care point¡ªthey''ll get her back to her family."


    Eddy sighed, rubbing his forehead before waving him off. "Fine, but be quick. I think the show starts in ten."


    Luca nodded, gently tugging Emma''s hand to follow.


    Emma complied immediately, though not before shooting one last look over her shoulder and sticking her tongue out at Eddy.


    "You''ve got some guts, Emma. How did you even squeeze your way through?" Luca asked, glancing down at her.


    "No one seemed to notice me," she answered simply.


    After a short walk, Luca stopped beside a flight box and turned to face her. "I can''t take you farther than here. I''m in the new suit, and I don''t want to ruin the reveal. Do you know how to get back?"


    Emma blinked, glancing around the busy place until her expression shifted. She had no idea. She had totally forgotten her way.


    Luca exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. Of course. She probably didn''t even remember how she got this far in the first place.


    Just as he was about to come up with a solution, Emma''s eyes suddenly lit up. She pointed excitedly to the right. "Oh! That''s Uncle and Aunt! They must''ve been looking for me!"


    Luca, who had his hands on his waist, wasn''t mentally ready to take in the sight of Ansel and Laura.

 Chapter 274 - 274: S2 Unveil Event. 2

    Ansel was just as stunned to see Luca as Luca was to see him. He had suspected that Emma might have wandered into Jackson Racing''s territory because she hadn''t exactly been subtle about her excitement over Luca being at the venue.


    Knowing she was still just a child, Ansel held back from scolding her. Instead, he nearly patted her head, but Laura got to her first, playfully biting her nose in her own version of discipline.


    Ansel turned his attention to Luca, who was quietly taking in the sight before him. With the unveil just minutes away, searching for his niece had been the last thing Ansel had hoped to be doing. "So, thank you," he said sincerely.


    "You''re very welcome," Luca replied with a nod.


    He took a long look at Ansel¡ªhis former teammate, someone he hadn''t seen in half a year.


    From Luca''s perspective, Ansel seemed a bit shorter than he remembered, and he had let some of his mustache grow past the usual clean-shaven look. Then, Luca''s eyes shifted to Laura. "It''s nice to see you, Laura," he said.


    Laura smiled warmly, though she was preoccupied with keeping Emma from running off again. "It''s nice to see you too," she replied. "How have you been?"


    "I''ve been great," Luca answered before shifting his gaze back to Ansel. "How have you all been?" he asked generally.


    Just as Luca thought Ansel looked shorter, Ansel, in turn, felt like Luca had somehow grown an inch, even though that wasn''t actually the case.


    The atmosphere around them was a hive of activity, a clear sign that their conversation needed to wrap up soon.


    "We''ve been doing great," Ansel finally replied. He took a deep breath, then spoke again. "I haven''t had the chance to congratulate you on your victory in Monza. Congratulations on becoming F2 Champion, Luca."


    Luca chuckled faintly, shifting his stance. "Thanks," he said. "But that''s old news now. Since I''m in F1, I think it''s time to let go of that title."


    Ansel understood and nodded, while Luca took a moment to assess the suit Ansel was wearing.


    It was Trampos'' new Veststar design, but different from the one Luca had worn when he was with the team.


    The red, black, and white color scheme remained, but the pattern had changed. Instead of the bold, symmetrical streaks of the previous design, this one had a more fragmented, angular look like sharp slashes running diagonally across the fabric.


    Luca wondered if this would be the last Veststar suit he''d see Ansel in, considering the rumors that Trampos might soon switch to a different racing suit manufacturer, one more fitting for F1.


    "Looks good," he admitted, gesturing at the suit. "The new design suits Trampos well. It looks more aggressive, like sharp claws."


    Ansel glanced down at himself, running a hand along the fabric. "Yeah, it''s definitely a change," he said. "Feels lighter, too. They''ve been improving their material."


    "I could say the same for yours," Ansel continued, remarking the Jackson Racing new designs. "It fits you really well." S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca nodded, appreciating the compliment before shifting his gaze to Emma, who clutched her pony tightly. He gave her a small wave. "I''ll see you around, dear. Just¡­ try not to run off next time, alright?"


    Emma grinned. "I won''t!" she declared, though Luca wasn''t entirely convinced.


    With that, he turned on his heels, stepping away as Ansel and Laura refocused on Emma. "Bye, Mr. Luca!" she called after him, her voice bright despite the noise of the venue.


    Luca raised a hand in acknowledgment but didn''t look back. The organized chaos of the event surrounded him once more as he weaved through the dimly lit back corridors, making his way toward the dark booths.


    He had undoubtedly missed whatever last-minute words Mr. Matthews had to say, but he''d just get the rundown from Rodnick and Eddy later.


    The moment Luca stepped back into the booth, Eddy''s voice cut through the noise. "Brother, why the hell are you sweating?! There are ACs everywhere!"


    "C''mon. Look at the crowd out there, mate¡ªit was a bit stuffy back there," Luca said, picking up his helmet that was hung. "Let''s get on with this."


    The host''s voice boomed once again, igniting a fresh wave of anticipation.


    "Ladies and gentlemen! The moment you''ve all been waiting for¡­ It''s time!"


    A pulse of flashing lights washed over the venue, and the crowd erupted with cheers. Cameras zoomed in, capturing every movement, every angle, every flicker of the spectacular stage setup.


    One by one, the massive white covers draped over the cars were lifted dramatically, revealing the meticulously crafted designs underneath.


    Jackson Racing''s was lifted first. The JRX-88X was used as the chassis for display today, not Luca''s, Di Renzo''s or Rodnick''s chassis.


    "Presenting first, the reigning champions¡ªJackson Racing!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The applause barely had time to settle before the next reveal.


    "Next, the unstoppable forces of engineering¡ªBueseno Velocit¨¤!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca and Rodnick burst out into laughter when Velocit¨¤''s livery was revealed. It turned out Eddy wasn''t joking after all!


    One by one, all ten teams had their new car designs revealed. Trampos was the last as a beacon of being the newest addition to the competition.


    "And now¡­ A challenger reborn! Trampos Racing!"


    There were not many cheers because Trampos were technically lacking in spectators at the venue.


    But since the machine''s livery was quite appealing, people began to clap and then the clap turned into cheers.


    Luca smiled, seeing the F2 04 seated next to cars way more powerful than it was. All the cars there were close enough under Professional Bundle to be analyzed, and Luca could tell the sheer difference.


    "Alright, it''s time. Head out," Eddy said. "Helmets on."


    Luca and Rodnick swiftly secured their helmets. Across the venue, Luigi and Ignatova did the same.


    DiMarco and Damgaard pulled theirs on with practiced ease, while Ansel and Haas followed suit.


    Even Hank Rice, who had voluntarily demoted himself to Iberia Grand Prix after Nevada''s ban, adjusted his helmet beside his new teammate, Mikhail Petrov.


    Nystr?m and Lockwood, along with the remaining drivers, completed the ritual. All twenty competitors were now fully geared up, their visors reflecting the dazzling arena lights.


    The host''s voice rang out, signaling the final moment before their grand reveal.


    "And now, it''s time to meet the stars behind the wheels! Please welcome the drivers!"


    The spotlights shifted, piercing through the booths like searchlights, illuminating the silhouettes of all twenty drivers.


    For a brief moment, the arena fell into a charged silence as each driver took a second¡ªmaybe two or three¡ªto scan the space, locking eyes with their rivals from across the vast stage.

 Chapter 275 - 275: Road To S2

    [SYSTEM ONLINE]


    [Host should begin Daily Routine]


    Luca woke up feeling fully rested, which was surprising given how late the team had retired the previous night.


    He rolled out of bed, stretched briefly, and made his way to the bathroom.


    After brushing his teeth and splashing some cold water on his face, he changed out of his pajamas and into his workout gear.


    Grabbing his gym bag, he stepped out of his room, moving down the hallway lined with the rooms of other team members.


    The corridor was very quiet, save for the muffled sounds of movement he could hear behind the closed doors.


    Entering the elevator, he pressed the button for the gym floor. The ride down was smooth and uneventful, and when the doors slid open, he was greeted by the soft hum of the facility coming to life.


    The morning was peaceful, with workers already tending to their duties. A few greeted him as he walked past, and he returned the gestures with nods before stepping into the gym.


    "Amir''s getting too comfortable," Luca said to himself as he set his bag down on a bench and rummaged through it. "I might have to replace him soon... or bring in someone else to light a fire under him."


    Finding his black gym wrist straps, he started wrapping them around his palms, wrists, and lower arms. His thoughts continued to churn.


    "In fact, my first team has been getting too comfortable since I expanded¡ªexcept Sara. She''s still diligent," he mused, tightening the last strap. "Mallow might just need some ''supervision'' in this managerial role of his."


    The gym was empty for now, giving Luca the rare moment of solitude. But just as he was about to start, a few crew members walked in, each carrying the same sense of purpose.


    They exchanged brief greetings before heading to their own routines.


    The gym was large enough that there was still plenty of space. Without further delay, Luca dropped into a steady rhythm, beginning with his current Bundle''s plyometric push-ups and jump squats to get his muscles firing.


    In no time, Luca was able to complete it all. Nothing felt stressful anymore. His excessively high Stamina and Endurance now made every physical effort seem effortless and easy.


    Luca wondered when next he''d actually be physically challenged. Maybe the 92B would, but he doubted it.


    If he could handle the F2 04 like it was a toy, then he''d be more than stable for the 92B.


    [Good job, Host. You can now proceed to the next phase of your Daily Routine. Your time in the gym today is over.]


    "Come to think of it, system," Luca said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "It''s been a while since we had a session dedicated to boosting my attributes."


    [Indeed, Host.]


    "So, let''s set one up. I''m really hyped for something."


    [Host should bear in mind that any such session is unlikely to yield tangible results and would most likely just be an enjoyable workout for Host.]


    Luca frowned slightly. "Why do you say that?"


    [Host''s Attributes have reached a stage where natural progression is no longer as easy as before. In the past, targeted sessions could result in noticeable gains, with some Attributes increasing by a point or two.]


    [However, at this level, EXP accumulation for Attributes takes significantly longer and is primarily influenced by time spent in the car and on the track, rather than in the gym.]


    Luca placed his hands on his waist, processing the information. "So you''re saying if I do a focused session here, I''ll just be wasting my time?"


    [There is an 88% certainty of that outcome, Host!]


    Luca rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That just means I need to get back to racing as soon as possible. The season should begin," he said. "Still, I was thinking about focusing on Agility today¡ªmaybe pushing it to 30 since I skipped it last time." sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Back when Luca received the two Catalysts from the Daily Quest he completed on that winter morning, he had considered using them to boost his Attributes but ultimately decided against it.


    He reasoned that there wouldn''t be a significant difference between Agility at 29 and Agility at 30. However, when it came to his Skills, even a single-point increase could make a noticeable impact.


    Moreover, Luca had believed¡ªjust as the system had reiterated now¡ªthat Agility would naturally reach 30 over time through driving, without the need for a Catalyst.


    His Attributes were already at a high level, and it was time to start prioritizing Tuning Upgrades for his Skills instead.


    If he ever reached a point where he was fully satisfied with his Self Skills, he might even consider converting future Catalysts into Wrenches.


    Because in F1, the car was just as crucial¡ªif not more¡ªthan the driver.


    So, back then Luca used the 2 Catalysts on Skills he believed would be very needed in F1''s competitive atmosphere.


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 1 Catalysts to Slipstream Mastery]


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 1 Catalysts to Side-by-Side King]


    [Slipstream Mastery: 18 ¡ú 19


    Side-by-Side King: 8 ¡ú 9 ]


    Pushing Slipstream Mastery closer to getting completed was a smart move on his part because it''d grant a new Skill which was the same as getting all attributes to 30.


    With all these little changes, Luca needed to get an update of his status before he proceeded with the day''s work.


    [Hosts status generating....


    [..... Generation completed]


    [Personal Information:


    Name: Luca Rennick


    Age: 19


    Nationality: Italian ]


    --------------------------------------


    [Physical Information:


    Weight: 74 kg / 154 lbs


    Height: 6''1"


    Body Fat Percentage: 10%


    Muscle Mass: 33%


    Strength: 30


    Stamina: 32


    Endurance: 30


    Agility: 29


    Intelligence: 30 ]


    ----------------------------------------


    [Personal Stats:


    Nickname: Mazerunner


    Status: 1 year contract


    Salary: $1,300,000


    Team: Jackson Racing


    Race Wins: 5


    Podium Finishes: 7


    Pole Positions: 2


    Championships: 1 ]


    ----------------------------------------


    [Skills & Techniques: A


    Reflexes: 20 (+4)


    Overtaking Skill: 20 (+6)


    Track Awareness: 20 (+3)


    Pitstop Prodigy: 20 (+3)


    Corner Chopping: 14


    Straightaway Chopping:8


    Spatial Awareness : 7


    Night Mastery: 4


    Grid Launch: 10


    Slipstream Mastery: 19


    Side-by-Side King: 9


    Slipsense & Rainborne: 3]


    Others (Locked) ]


    ------------------------------


    After receiving the update, Luca understood that he was close to completing all his Self Skills. Hopefully, just a few final touches remained.


    However, when it came to his Car Status, he was only at the starting line, with a long journey ahead.


    That journey, however, might officially begin today. Jackson Racing had scheduled a drill, and Luca would likely get behind the wheel of the 92B, finally registering it into the system.


    With that in mind, he wrapped up his session, grabbed his bag, and exited the gym, ready to take on the next phase of his day.

 Chapter 276 - 276: Road To S2. 2

    It was a bright day at the Jackson Racing headquarters. The sun was full and was halfway high up in the sky, bathing the entire place with its warm midday light.


    The air was thin and cool at the same time, bringing about a soft breeze now and then. The trees bordering the headquarters swayed lightly to this breeze that seemed to be controlled by the few scattered clouds drifting lazily across the pale blue sky above.


    Luca received wholesome news earlier that day that he would be racing with Rodnick in the season''s opener, the Monaco Grand Prix.


    This was a result he''d been inwardly doubting since, but now he was glad it had been resolved¡ªeven though it meant the disappointment of another, Di Renzo.


    So, the drills leading up to the first action Sunday of the year would focus on Luca and Rodnick, though Di Renzo and the rest would still participate.


    The garages were now abuzz. The Jackson Racing crew was so large that Luca first thought some would have nothing to do but ogle while others worked.


    But that wasn''t the case. The more he saw, the more he realized that every single person had a role to play. Jackson Racing''s orderliness and structurization categorized each person under a group, and each group under a larger group.


    Ultimately, this umbrella brought about fluidity, efficiency, and productivity in the handling of work.


    A comical part of Luca began to absurdly accuse Jackson Racing of cloning humans to become their crew members.


    He realized the team''s theme was sci-fi, and in sci-fi, such a thing was possible.


    He chuckled to himself.


    Rodnick, who was in the uniform room with him, raised a brow. "You laughed to yourself?"


    "Yeah. I do it all the time," Luca replied. "Telling jokes to yourself is the best way to make sure you always have a good audience."


    Rodnick frowned thoughtfully as he nodded.


    "Do you find it weird?" Luca asked after a moment.


    "No, no, no. I don''t," Rodnick said. "My sister doesn''t just laugh to herself, she talks to herself. I''ve heard that people who do this are quite intelligent. I think it''s supposed to be a sign of high cognitive reasoning."


    Luca bowed his head slightly. "You''re not wrong," he said with a hint of pride. "I even do it while I''m on the track."


    "While you''re moving at 300 km/h?"


    "Yes. While I''m moving at 300 km/h."


    Rodnick finished suiting up before Luca. He grabbed his helmet, ready to head out. "We''ll see, then."


    Luca watched him leave before returning to his own dressing. The training suit was different from the main one, so today, he was in black, with blue as the secondary color and accents of white.


    "System display."


    [SYSTEM ONLINE]


    -----


    In Jackson Racing''s cars, the chassis in particular, there were vast differences from the F2 04.


    And this wasn''t just the statistical difference that the system had just compared and contrasted with the Chassis Comparison Feature.


    These differences were unique features that a few F1 teams had adopted and incorporated¡ªstill accepted under regulation¡ªto help improve their chances of winning and enhance their drivers'' experience on the track.


    For example, they had this feature called the drinks system. It was a built-in hydration system that allowed any driver to take small sips of fluid through a tube connected to their helmet, helping them stay hydrated during long races.


    Luca didn''t know who came up with that idea, but whoever it was must be a freaking genius. Or perhaps necessity brought about invention, and no one just woke up one day and decided to fix in that.


    Luca realized he hadn''t really felt "dehydrated" before in long races due to his impressive stamina. So, he might just be taking those sips if he ever felt like, y''know, sweetening his tongue.


    Another impressive feature was the Seat Cooling System, where cooling elements had been incorporated into the seat to help manage cockpit temperatures, especially in hot conditions.


    The Cooling System was said to be more prominent in the Ferrari JRX-92B than in any other car in Formula 1, further supporting its engine''s feature.


    Luca also liked the Helmet Ventilation System, which was also integrated to reduce overheating in general.


    His best preference, no doubt, was the Rearview Camera System!


    Instead of relying solely on mirrors, Jackson Racing had installed small cameras that provided a clearer view of rival cars behind.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Ferrari (JRX-92B)]


    Luca was shown how to operate all these features, ensuring he was fully familiar with the systems that would aid him on the track.


    They walked him through it all¡ªdemonstrating, explaining, and also letting him practice and experiment for himself.


    In no time, Luca was able to learn the enhancements, still awed by how advanced F1 cars were.


    At the moment, he was seated in the cockpit of the 92B, his head held steady by the U-shaped HANS device as his eyes scanned the beauty of the Ferrari.


    The metallic black and silvery blue color scheme gave the interior a sleek yet aggressive look, everything glossy and reflective.


    The black wheel was packed with many useful buttons and dials, all bearing different colors to give them some distinction to the driver. And the paddles on the wheel sat firmly in Luca''s hands, though he had begun to caress them.


    For some reason, Luca had gendered the F2 04 as a girl, and now the JRX-92B seemed like a boy ready for battle!


    The time he''d been waiting for had finally arrived, and now, he could begin his new leveling-up journey.


    When the mechanics and engineers moved to the side to discuss, Luca began.


    [Ding!]


    [Car, chassis, and engine detected.]


    [Would you like to select <JRX-92B (Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056)> as your designated car?]


    [Y / N] S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Yes," Luca answered confidently.


    [Successfully selected!]


    [Ding!]


    [You have received (1) Wrench]


    "!!!"


    Before Luca could react to the generous gift, one of the engineers leaned into the cockpit, filling his visored view with a clipboard that had details of today''s drills.

 Chapter 277 - 277: Road To S2. 3

    Season Begins.


    Many considered this new season the start of a new generation in Formula racing, marking the end of an era that had transformed single-seaters from their once boxy appearance into a more aerodynamic and intricate design.


    This unspoken proposal could very well become reality, especially since the concept of a "generation" in any sport was never dictated by an official announcement or a specific crossover event.


    Instead, it was just a natural shift. It was an evolution recognized and accepted collectively by the motorsport community to signify the end of one era and the beginning of another.


    Since the FIA itself had actually declared this a new era, it was a no-brainer to everyone that Formula racing had officially entered a new generation.


    Generation IV ¨C The Generation of Power¡ªa title that had rapidly gained notoriety.


    This was all due to the now-legalized use of High-Intensity Combustion Engines, which had once been banned for their sheer, uncontrollable power on the track.


    Their overwhelming force made continuous crashes a looming threat, significantly increasing the risk to drivers'' lives.


    In other words, the danger factor had skyrocketed.


    But in Formula racing, it was no secret that these young men willingly embraced that danger, strapping themselves into machines that could end their lives all in pursuit of competition, glory, and the intoxicating thrill of speed.


    These engines, both then and now, only pushed that risk even further.


    For the FIA, however, this evolution had its own advantages. Now, there''d be higher viewership, stronger support, increased revenue, and, most importantly, a sport that was more competitive than ever.


    Even though no team had officially added a HiCE to their arsenal yet, the season¡ªfor the first few races, until a team did get one¡ªwould still be more competitive than ever before.


    These super engines were predicted to arrive by mid-season or a bit earlier for the teams that could afford them early on.


    Until then, the season would remain unpredictable, as teams honing different chassis abilities could still make a difference.


    Before the season began, the rundown of all teams was provided, and Luca could see all his rival teams, assessing each of them and their capability on the track.


    PROVISIONAL TEAMS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (ALL 10)


    Position | Team | Points Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ----------------------------------------


    1. | Alpine Swiss F1 | 0


    2. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ | 0


    3. | Haddock Racing | 0


    4. | Iberia Grand Prix | 0


    5. | Jackson Racing | 0


    6. | Nordvind Racing | 0


    7. | Outback Performance | 0


    8. | Squadra Corse | 0


    9. | Trampos Racing | 0


    10. | Velox Hispania | 0


    The top five teams currently in F1 were Jackson Racing, Bueseno Velocit¨¤, Squadra Corse, Haddock Racing, and Nordvind Racing, which had just taken over Nevada''s place.


    Among the bottom five, Outback Performance led the pack, followed by Velox Hispania, a Spanish team, with Iberia Grand Prix and Alpine Swiss F1 trailing behind.


    Luca figured Alpine must have felt some relief knowing that Trampos had now taken their place as the lowest-ranked team in F1.


    Alpine Swiss F1 was a rare sight in the sport, being a Swiss team, just as uncommon as their country''s presence in motorsport.


    Yet, despite this rarity, they had failed to use it to bring any uniqueness to the competition. Instead, they simply faded into the background.


    For nearly a decade, the team had struggled to produce a standout driver. All they had were average competitors, relying on their Renault-powered chassis with little success.


    Luca didn''t even know who their current drivers were. But before he could dwell on it, he received another list¡ªa list that clearly outlined all ten teams and their main drivers for the season.


    Alpine Swiss F1¡ª J¨®zef Konarski and Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    Bueseno Velocit¨¤¡ª Davide DiMarco and Jimmy Damgaard


    Haddock Racing¡ª Ailbeart Moireach and Mark Derfflinger


    Iberia Grand Prix¡ª Hank Rice and Mikhail Petrov


    Jackson Racing¡ª Marcellus Rodnick and Luca Rennick


    Nordvind Racing¡ª Elias Nystr?m James Lockwood


    Outback Performance¡ª Luis Dreyer and Javier Montez


    Squadra Corse¡ª Antonio Luigi and Marko Ignatova


    Trampos Racing¡ª Ansel Hahn and Erik Haas


    Velox Hispania¡ªAlejandro Vasquez and Desmond Lloyd


    All drivers, including reserves¡ªwho were sometimes well-rounded enough to be placed behind the wheel¡ªhad a chance at winning the championship this season.


    Though the odds varied for each driver, fluctuating between high and low, the possibility was never zero. At the start of a fresh season, everyone was considered both a rival and a threat to the final goldware in the UAE.


    Of course, chassis technology and engine performance played crucial roles in determining a team''s potential. With this third list in hand, Luca could now further categorize who among them he''d truly need to keep an eye on.


    In F1, an engine provider or manufacturer was allowed to supply power units to a maximum of three teams, though most manufacturers typically partnered with just two.


    However, just because two teams shared the same engine supplier didn''t mean they were allies or friends.


    They remained fierce competitors on the track, each developing their own unique car models based on the same power unit. This led to them being referred to as "siblings" in the paddock.


    That said, in the highly competitive and often cutthroat world of F1, direct rivals tended to have an almost intolerable level of animosity toward one another.


    Meanwhile, "sibling teams," though still competitors, usually had a less hostile rivalry compared to their battles against other teams.


    Mercedes¡ªSquadra Corse and Velox Hispania


    Red Bull¡ª Bueseno Velocit¨¤ and Outback Performance


    Ferrari¡ª Jackson Racing


    Renault¡ª Haddock Racing and Alpine Swiss F1


    Audi¡ªNordvind Racing and Iberia Grand Prix


    Dallara (Temporary)¡ªTrampos Racing


    Luca noticed an interesting pattern in how F1 teams were paired with their engine suppliers.


    It became clear that sibling teams were deliberately structured so that one came from the top five and the other from the bottom five.


    Luca recognized this as a strategic failsafe, ensuring sibling teams didn''t develop excessive hostility toward each other, allowing them to focus their competitive fire on their true rivals¡ªthose from their respective ends of the grid.


    However, there were a couple of exceptions. The former sibling pairing of Jackson Racing and Nevada HanSama had disrupted the balance. But at least now, it had dissolved due to Nevada''s ban.


    Similarly, Nordvind Racing and Iberia Grand Prix had once both been lower-tier teams, but Nordvind had always considered itself among the top.


    Now, with Nevada out of the picture, Nordvind had officially claimed that spot, reinforcing the existing sibling structure.


    This made Luca wonder if Trampos Racing could make an appeal to join Jackson Racing under Ferrari power. Given their lower standing, it seemed like a possibility.


    The Tempesta A-Level engine belonged to Bueseno Velocit¨¤ Jnr. Impressively, both DiMarco and Damgaard piloted this powerhouse, as Velocit¨¤ had surprisingly become the first team to possess more than just a handful of their best engine model.


    Squadra Corse had the FiammaVeloce registered to their name, and rumors swirled that it was the best among all A-Level engines.


    That made Luca frown. He had firmly believed that Jackson Racing''s ThunderKat was the undisputed best on the grid.


    Even if Antonio Luigi could boast about driving such an impressive engine, at least Jackson Racing had Haddock''s Rotterbad to trample on.


    As for Nevada HanSama''s Warpburner, it would remain unused, locked away with the rest of their assets, as the Italian team''s operations had been fully suspended.


    From Luca''s analysis, it was clear that the top teams weren''t ranked at the top by coincidence. A mix of subtle nuances, intricate decisions, and cutting-edge technology had coalesced to create this established hierarchy.


    He began to wonder if his 90+ rated FiveSix would be able to compete fiercely with these 100-percenters?


    And when the 300-percenters finally arrived... what then?

 Chapter 278 - 278: First Rounds Qualifier

    Monaco Grand Prix


    Location: Monte Carlo, Monaco


    Date: Mar. 18


    Track: Circuit de l''¨¦toile (Stellar)


    Luca felt a deep sense of fulfillment as he realized that he was now a Sunday racer, no longer just a Saturday competitor in Formula 2.


    The weight of this transition truly hit him on Friday, qualifying day, because in F2, qualifying sessions were traditionally held on Thursdays.


    However, this wasn''t just any qualifying session. This would be his first time experiencing the new format that the FIA had announced during the Prize Giving Gala.


    They had introduced it as a well-practiced system, now set to become the primary qualifying format for Formula 1 moving forward.


    It was one of the many fifteen changes proclaimed that night.


    This qualifying was divided into three elimination rounds:


    Q1 (18 minutes): All 20 drivers set their fastest laps. The slowest five are eliminated and placed P16 to P20.


    Q2 (15 minutes): The remaining 15 drivers battle again, with another five eliminated to lock in P11 to P15.


    Q3 (12 minutes): The top 10 drivers fight for pole position, determining the front of the grid. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The unique thing about this qualifying format was that it didn''t use an alphabetical order system to determine who went first because no one was actually "going first."


    Instead, the format followed a quick structured knockout system, where all drivers participated in timed sessions as mentioned above.


    Anyone could choose to go out within that set time to chase the fastest lap. A driver''s exit onto the track would likely be backed by team strategy, as teams would consider track conditions, weather, and traffic before sending their drivers out.


    There would be no lineup or grid, but the green light at the pit lane would signal when the track was open for the lap challenge, the time ticking.


    Luca and the team drove to Monte Carlo to participate in the qualifying session. They got there early, the first team to arrive, around 11 AM.


    To pass the time, they decided to hold their Track Walk on the same day, walking through the track that ran through the streets of Monte Carlo and La Condamine, two of Monaco''s key districts.


    They started from the pit lane, moving farther away from the Start/Finish line.


    Luca smiled as he walked along, remembering every single thing from last year when he finished P2 right on this very circuit.


    It felt close, yet unreachable, as if that was a different timeline.


    Mr. Berry and his fellow engineers understood it was necessary to inform both Luca and Rodnick about the loopholes and advantages they had discovered in the qualifying format.


    Luca, eager for some real team action, listened closely as Mr. Berry spoke measuredly and carefully.


    The team visited all four checkpoints, starting with Casino Square before moving on to Fairmont Hairpin, the Tunnel Section, and the Swimming Pool Complex before returning to the Start/Finish line.


    The Swimming Pool Complex was a nice view that bordered the now only chicane in Stellar, near the Monaco Harbor. It was the single construction made by the FIA according to their plans for expansion.


    Circuit de l''¨¦toile didn''t have many grandstands, so at least the few set up there could accommodate even just one thousand or two.


    By the time the team returned, other teams had arrived and were already setting things up.


    The marshals began to make the track clear and safe, ensuring no debris or obstacles remained on the racing line.


    Barriers were checked, escape routes were confirmed, and the final safety inspections were completed under the watchful eyes of FIA officials that filled the streets.


    1 PM


    Luca felt a slight tinge of nervousness. His first real taste of F1 action was about to begin. It was only natural to feel a bit on edge.


    Everyone was ready, and he had never seen the garages this tense before.


    Faces were set with stiff focus, mechanics moving with urgency, engineers murmuring final adjustments into their headsets.


    The atmosphere was thick with nothing but anticipation, and very soon, fuel and rubber.


    Luca knew this was the season''s first qualifying session, but if he could offer a piece of advice, it would be to lighten up just a little.


    It almost felt like the crew members of rival teams harbored more hostility toward one another than the drivers themselves.


    He had just exited the uniform room, now fully suited in Jackson''s colors, as he joined his team in their final strategy discussions.


    For a brief moment, his eyes drifted toward Squadra Corse''s garage.


    There stood Antonio Luigi, clad in black and silver with gold accents, casually sipping electrified water while speaking with his engineers.


    2nd place.


    Luca pictured Luigi''s expression when he had inevitably realized he wasn''t winning the championship, that Rodnick would be the one to take it all.


    Luigi had to be an incredible driver. Possibly ruthless. A wild card. Because Luca couldn''t picture a composed, disciplined racer losing control and crashing into a boy marshal.


    He wondered if Luigi even remembered that incident. Had he ever asked about the boy, if he was okay afterward?


    "...Attention all teams and drivers. The qualifying session for the Monaco Grand Prix will begin in twenty-five minutes. Please ensure your cars are prepared and positioned accordingly..."


    The air was a bit chilly, a strange contrast to the heat of the moment.


    Luca rubbed his palms together, about to head back into the garage when something on the pit lane caught his eye.


    He halted mid-step, straightened up, and squinted. He wasn''t a machine, but he didn''t need to be because he recognized them instantly by the suits they wore.


    Eleven Trampos Racing crew members stood in the distance, staring at him like lifeless statues.


    Luca recognized McCauley amongst them, Derek, Sandy, a girl he knew very well and a little plump figure¡ªSam.


    It felt as if he saw a ghost but wasn''t terrified because he knew the ghost was present but didn''t expect it to appear and startle him.


    He wished they''d stop looking at him like that, like lost ducklings staring at their mother duck.


    "Luca, come on, head over here," a mechanic called from the garage.


    Luca nodded, his eyes flickering around briefly before he muttered under his breath.


    "Fuck," he cussed.

 Chapter 279 - 279: First Round Qualifier. 2

    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Ferrari (JRX-92B)]


    Luca gripped the steering wheel and took a steady breath, the cockpit of his 92B humming softly around him and steadily growing warm.


    Four minutes had already ticked by since the green light had signaled the start of the qualifier, and the track was alive with action.


    Zip!


    A blur of yellow swiftness shot past on the streets, followed by another streak of blue.


    Rivals were already on the track, some still in their garages searching for the most ideal entrance to pursue the fastest lap.


    **Everything''s set. You''ll be heading out soon** Mr. Berry''s voice crackled through.


    **Rodnick''s set to go in later. You''re going in first, so get a feel of the track**


    "Okay."


    Luca exhaled, his eyes narrowing as he visualized his approach to the action that was already unfolding on the track.


    Notable early runners like DiMarco and his teammate, Damgaard, Nystr?m, Rice, and Ignatova had already started pushing through their laps on Circuit de l''¨¦toile, fighting for clean air.


    Even though some teams¡ªlike Jackson, for example¡ªwere trying to be smart and strategic, everyone knew that in qualifiers, the strategy was simply to get out, warm up the tires efficiently, and then commit to a flyer.


    **You''re good to go in sixty seconds. Final check¡ªeverything feeling right?** another engineer chimed in.


    "Yeah, all good," Luca confirmed, keeping his eyes on Street Turn 1 that Nystr?m had just rounded.


    **The track is evolving very fast. Others have already put in times, but you''ve got the advantage of a better read on conditions¡ªand Marcellus, even more. Keep it clean on the out lap, then push**


    Luca flexed his fingers. His heart rate was steady, his mind locked in. He would enter late, but before Rodnick, and that meant he had to deliver something strong enough to hold weight on the board.


    Rodnick had been advised to take advantage of the fallout on track, while Luca was the one expected to push.


    It might have seemed as if Luca was creating the opening for Rodnick in the final minutes of Q1. But in reality, after much thought, Luca realized it was the opposite, and Rodnick was at risk of not having enough time to get a good flying lap.


    Luca recalled Jackson Racing''s default primary strategy as Mr. Matthews had explained.


    He had called it the Parallel Drive Strategy, a rare approach Luca had never encountered before, and the explanation was even more surprising.


    The strategy dictated that neither driver would hold precedence over the other while on track.


    Both Driver A and Driver B were free to compete once they came into contact, with no restrictions or team orders favoring one over the other.


    Mr. Matthews specifically pointed out that this was the complete opposite of what had happened between Luca and his teammate in Riyadh, where Luca had been graciously granted P1.


    In such scenarios under the Parallel Drive Strategy, neither driver would be privileged for both would be free to fight for position.


    Jackson Racing saw this as a way to push their drivers to their absolute limits and extract their best, ensuring success was earned rather than handed over.


    Luca understood the intent behind it, but he also saw the many disadvantages it could bring.


    But who was he to dislike such a strategy?!


    Jackson Racing was literally giving him a free ticket to prove his worth instead of forcing him to stay under Rodnick.


    This made Luca wonder just how good Rodnick must be to hold onto his No. 1 Silver Stallion status, not because it was handed to him, but because of his sheer ability on the track. And, of course... with his 100 percenter.


    With time, Luca thought, I might even push this FiveSix to a HiCE level, and this 92B to a 300 percenter.


    "With time," he repeated.


    **Luca, it''s go for you** Mr. Berry called.


    Luca flicked the switch as the crew uncrowded him.


    The engine snarled in response. Time to hunt the fastest lap.


    "...And here comes Luca Rennick onto the track! Jackson Racing''s latest addition is finally making his entrance, six minutes into the session. Let''s see what he can do around the streets of Monte Carlo..!"


    Luca released the limiter. The limiter was a button designed by a few F1 teams to regulate the speed limit automatically instead of manually. His JRX-92B surged forward as he exited the pit lane.


    [Host is participating in a Racing Activity]


    [ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]


    [DATA COLLECTED]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL TIME:


    -Car Speed: 240 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 245m


    -Time: 6 sec ]


    Luca could already feel the acceleration this car honed. The F2 04 could never make it to this Turn 1 in under six seconds.


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 180 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    The system information was very useful, even though his engineers had given some extra hints on navigating the first turn while ensuring the tires were warm.


    However, Luca noticed something else. "I see you''ve changed the system info when driving, system."


    [Affirmative, host.]


    "Even the interface," he observed, glancing around. "It now has Jackson''s colors instead of Trampos''."


    [System adapts to the color scheme of the chassis currently in operation. Presently, host is driving <Ferrari JRX-92B>.]


    "Nice," Luca acknowledged, settling the car into the rhythm of the recommendations and smoothly navigating through. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He had just left the sights of the garage and had now delved into the streets, people cheering from the tops of buildings.


    Street after street, cars already going for their fastest lap were flying past him. Even on the straight where Luca remembered Straight Chopping Max Addams last year, a particular driver had used his slipstream as if he were some kind of spring tool.


    Tsk! Luca cast a glance to his side as a Red Bull roared past into the next turn.


    It was Davide DiMarco, and for some reason, DiMarco reminded Luca a lot of Max Addams.


    [Turn type: Hairpin] [Angle: 170¡ã] [Braking Point: 200 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 90 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Outside Late]


    [400m Straightaway ahead]


    [Turn type: Sweeping Left] [Angle: 60¡ã] [Braking Point: 50 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 210 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid lane]


    [Turn type: Sweeping Right] [Angle: 75¡ã] [Braking Point: 70 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 200 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid lane]


    [Chicane Ahead]


    [Turn Type: Three-Turn Chicane (Right ¡ú Left ¡ú Right)]


    [Approach Width: 8.0m ¡ú Tightens at Apex: 6.5m ¡ú Widens at Exit: 7.6m]


    [Good job, Host!]


    [Turn type: Sweeping Right] [Angle: 75¡ã] [Braking Point: 70 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 200 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid lane]


    [Home straight ahead]


    While Luca was driving, his dashboard displayed the sector updates from competitors, but he wasn''t concerned about them just yet.


    Rice would pass him, Ignatova would flaunt his Mercedes, DiMarco would double-pass him again, but Luca was focused on when his own opening would come.


    Yet, as he drove, he still couldn''t fathom how great the 92B was!


    It felt like he was piloting a hovercraft! It was unlike anything he had ever driven. The responsiveness, the seamless energy transfer, the way it clung to the circuit like it was part of the track itself!


    Luca wondered if the 92B had some silent perk because he was certain other engines were louder than this. There was a distinct smoothness to its roar, a controlled power that didn''t scream for attention.


    And if it were the F2 04, by now, he would already be as hot as a furnace¡ªokay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the difference was undeniable, and Luca was enjoying the 92B.


    "The car''s great," he had no choice but to admit into the radio.


    **Indeed, Luca. Now you got laps ahead of you. Marcellus is coming in. Seven minutes left**


    With warm tires, Luca joined the rest of the drivers in setting the fastest lap, weaving through the streets at an unsafe speed as people watched from above.


    Stellar was nothing like it was supposed to be during the day, as there was no nightly glow and lights, just the modern buildings of Monaco, beautiful city scenes, and the raw, unilluminated roads that the FIA notoriously turned into a track.


    Luca glanced at the dashboard:


    1. DiMarco¡ª 1:20.903 (P)


    2. Nystr?m¡ª 1:19.561


    3. Damgaard¡ª1:19.143


    His eyes moved down the real-time list, searching for his name.


    9. Rennick¡ª 1:15.764


    "Damnit," he said, snapping his focus back to the track. But just before he looked away, he caught a quick change in the standings.


    1. DiMarco¡ª 1:20.903 (P)


    2. Nystr?m¡ª 1:19.561


    3. Ignatova¡ª1:19.522


    **Five minutes left till Q1 ends**


    Luca knew he didn''t have to top the leaderboard in Q1 to advance to Q2, which would eliminate the 16th to 20th place drivers.


    But at the very least, finishing high in Q1 would give him the confidence to place even higher in Q2.


    The problem was, as he kept shaving time off his personal best, pushing for a higher score, the other drivers weren''t stagnant.


    They were doing the same, resetting their bests and dragging the high score further out of reach.


    Eighteen minutes elapsed, and Q1 came to an end


    6. Rennick¡ª 1:18.231


    The teams whose drivers finished 16th and below shook their heads as all competitors coasted back to the garage to prepare for Q2.


    Luca removed his helmet and pulled off his head sock, glancing around and shaking out his hair as the team helped him out of the cockpit.


    "Well done. Get a quick rest," Eddy said, giving Luca a firm tap on the back before turning his attention to Rodnick, who had just rolled in.


    Luca ran a hand through his hair before stepping into the garage.


    P15 to P11 for the first grid of the season would be determined next, but for now, P16 to P20 had been set. Luca didn''t dwell on it.


    P16¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    P17¡ª Mikhail Petrov


    P18¡ª Ansel Hahn


    P19¡ª Desmond Lloyd


    P20¡ª Erik Haas

 Chapter 280 - 280: Road To S2. 4

    The day eventually came to an end, marking the conclusion of the first qualifying session of the season.


    With their positions secured, the teams packed up their equipment and left the garages, abandoning all 21 streets and roads to the cold silence of the evening and night.


    The following day would be filled with F2 action, but even then, F1 still loomed over the weekend, ready to conclude the first round on Sunday night.


    The entire Jackson Racing crew returned to their facility, eager to rest and recharge.


    The once-quiet facility, which had been still since the afternoon, was now alive with chatter and hurried footsteps as everyone settled in.


    There was no air of disappointment, even though neither of their drivers had secured a spot in the top five.


    Jackson Racing took the qualifications in stride, focusing instead on strategizing how to turn their positions into an advantage for race day.


    Luca had qualified P11, while Rodnick secured P6.


    "A very strong position," Mr. Matthews remarked, placing a firm hand on Luca''s shoulder. "Well done."


    Looking at the full list of qualifiers, Luca initially thought about cutting himself some slack, maybe even giving himself some credit for reaching P11 in his first F1 qualifier.


    But minutes later, he dismissed the thought.


    He needed to believe he was on par with these drivers, not below them. Praising himself for P11 felt like giving himself permission to settle.


    Great, he had qualified close to the top ten, but that wasn''t a reason to celebrate. It was a reminder to push harder next time.


    P1¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P2¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P3¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P4¡ª Mark Derfflinger


    P5¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P6¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P7¡ª Hank Rice


    P8¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P9¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P10¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P11¡ª Luca Rennick


    P12¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    P13¡ª Desmond Lloyd S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    P14¡ª James Lockwood


    P15¡ª Javier Montez


    P16¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    P17¡ª Mikhail Petrov


    P18¡ª Ansel Hahn


    P19¡ª J¨®zef Konarski


    P20¡ª Erik Haas


    In reality, Luca wasn''t even supposed to qualify P11. He should have secured P9, maybe even P7, had he pushed just a fraction harder instead of easing off in those crucial milliseconds.


    But based on the discussions they''d had about the advantages within this qualifying format, Luca had deliberately slowed down with perfect precision to land himself in P11 instead of anywhere between P8 and P10.


    He hoped it would pay off on Sunday.


    You see, in F1''s qualifying rules, drivers who qualified in the top 10 had to start the race on the same tires they used to set their fastest lap in the qualifier.


    As Jackson Racing have predicted, this would put them at a strategic disadvantage, especially if they had to use softer, faster-wearing tires while those outside the top 10 could start on fresh rubber of any choice.


    This meant that all drivers¡ªDreyer, Damgaard Nystr?m, Rice, and so on¡ªwere required to use the same kind of compound they had used in the qualifier for the main race as well.


    Qualifiers were well known for the use of soft tires since they provided better grip, enhanced acceleration, and increased speed, though they wore out quickly due to the short nature of the session.


    However, in the main race, what would happen to these drivers positioned nearly just above P11? Aren''t they supposed to use hards over softs?


    Those who had used softs in the qualifier were required to stick with them in the race, which was nearly everyone, except for a rare few.


    Meanwhile, drivers starting below P10 had the freedom to choose any compound they preferred.


    This gave P11 an inevitable advantage over P10, P8, and P9, as it was highly likely that Luca could overtake them once their soft compounds forced them into an early pit stop.


    Inside the facility buildings, the Jackson Racing team resorted to a gathering as someone mentioned to Luca they always held before remarkable races like the first of the season and the last.


    Some engaged in simulated races together, a few drank at one side, others opted for simple yet meaningful discussions to end the day, while the sportier ones set up a table tennis tournament.


    As someone who genuinely enjoyed table tennis, Luca joined in.


    The number of participants was high, so every round felt crucial, with players giving their all to advance.


    Luca eventually made it to the quarter-finals, where he faced Di Renzo.


    The match was intense, both exchanging quick rallies, their reflexes sharp. But in the final point, Di Renzo executed a flawless inside-out forehand flick.


    Luca could see the deception in the flick of wrist and the way the ball responded by an impossible angle, spinning past his bat and landing cleanly at his own edge of the table.


    Luca shot Di Renzo a thumbs-up and left the table, telling everyone he was headed to the gym.


    And that was where he indeed went for some evening workout, where he solely punched the heavy bag nonstop.


    Luca became so focused on the rigidity and hardness of the heavy bag, his thoughts lingering on the fact that he was actually an F1 racer now, that he failed to see how supernatural he looked while in action.


    His arms were almost a blur of red, and his light footwork left streaks in their wake. Only the heavy bag could testify to the sheer punishment it received.


    Luca took a deep breath and sat on the bench, unstrapping the gloves. "System display."


    [SYSTEM ONLINE]


    "I now know what to use the Wrench on."


    [What could that be, host?]


    "The Gripper of course. I have no other Car Skill but it, and I believe I''ve been over thinking the use. I''ll get more Wrenches in the future."


    "So, use it on Gripper. Let''s take it to (6) for a start."


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 1 Wrench to Gripper]


    [Gripper: 5 ¡ú 6 ]


    "Thanks," Luca said.


    The glowing interface hovered before him, but his mind was already shifting away from training mode.


    With one final look at the swaying heavy bag, he rose to his feet and left the gym, heading back to his room.


    The hallways were now quiet as everyone had retired for the night. His footsteps echoed faintly as he navigated to his room.


    Luca entered the room and locked the door behind him before pulling off his shirt and tossing it onto the chair.


    He grabbed the remote, switched on the TV, and navigated to the F1 news channel, letting the broadcast play in the background as he prepared for a bath.


    The glow from the TV screen reflected off the ceramic fixtures in the hotel room, casting faint hues onto the bedsheets as Luca stepped into the bathroom.


    Before turning on the shower, he made sure to increase the volume so he could still hear what was being said.


    From the sound of it, the broadcast was playing the official introduction for the new F1 season, and Luca didn''t want to miss a thing.


    As the water rushed over him, the TV continued, its words filtering through the background noise of his shower:


    "¡­Some say Formula 1 isn''t really a sport. What sport has stadiums that span cities?"


    "¡­Or revels in driving rain, blazing sun, and the blackest night?"


    "¡­What sport makes the whole world stop and stare?"


    "¡­And our big game, we do it 23 times a year."


    "¡­This is no ordinary sport."


    "¡­This is Formula 1."

 Chapter 281 - 281: S2 Monaco Grand Prix

    Race Day: Mar. 7, Circuit de l''¨¦toile, Monte Carlo, Monaco.


    The whole world was abuzz as the first day¡ªor rather, night¡ªof F1 action had arrived.


    Luca lowered his headset from his ears to his neck, gripped his duffel bag, and rose to his feet.


    Dressed in a Jackson Racing casual tracksuit, he followed the other crew members as they disembarked from the coach bus.


    The moment they stepped out, a loud cheer erupted from the crowd gathered near the buildings to the right. Security struggled to keep them in control as the team arrived.


    Jackson Racing fans roared the loudest, calling out for the crew''s attention, eager for autographs and photos.


    All the Jackson Racing drivers deemed it necessary to engage with the fans. After all, they had no idea how the night''s results would play out.


    If things took a bad turn, they might not be in the mood for this later.


    So Luca pulled out his emergency pen and wandered toward the crowd with Rodnick and the others.


    Security took no chances, maintaining¡ªif not intensifying¡ªtheir regulation, pushing the massive crowd back with the help of barriers.


    Luca, Rodnick, Di Renzo, and the rest split into different segments to cover more ground quickly.


    The first object Luca grabbed to sign came from a little boy. It was a toy Ferrari car, though he wasn''t entirely sure of the model.


    He signed it swiftly and patted the boy''s head. The kid was so stunned he couldn''t even utter a word.


    In contrast to the younger fans, some of the older teens and grown-ups were far more vocal, loudly sharing their thoughts.


    Some were even confessing their intimate attraction to Luca and other absurd things right there in the moment.


    Regardless of how excessively glazing it all was, Luca was glad to be admired at Jackson Racing. It seemed the English¡ªunlike the Italians¡ªwere on his side.


    Come to think of it, this favoritism made sense. It was publicly known that Luca had grown up in the UK and spent most of his life there.


    Because of that, the English fans likely saw him as a homeboy and believed he was far more connected to the country than the other Jackson Racing drivers, who had spent their lives elsewhere.


    While wrapping up his fan engagement, Luca glanced toward the far side, where another cluster of fans had gathered in rival colors, proudly bearing Velocit¨¤''s sigil.


    To another side, Squadra Corse fans loomed, their presence not ignorable. Entire blocks surrounding the street circuit were filled with spectators who wouldn''t find a grandstand on this night.


    Among them, Luca spotted a particular poster of his own face, crossed out with a bold red X. Beneath it, Italian text read: "Rennick the traitor."


    Luca wasn''t fluent in his mother tongue, so he had no idea what it said.


    But considering it came from opposing fans and had a giant red X over his face, it was obvious the message wasn''t one of reverence.


    He simply shook his head and caught up with the team, moving in as they passed through the main security checkpoint, leaving the noise behind.


    "How do you feel about your first official Formula 1 race, Luca?"


    "Same way every driver feels now. Ready and optimistic."


    "You qualified P11. Would you say that was the best you could do, or do you feel like you left something on the table?" Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I could''ve done better, no doubt. There were a few milliseconds I let slip, but P11 isn''t a bad place to start, so I''ll make the most of it."


    "Rodnick starts ahead of you in P6. Will there be any team orders, or is it every man for himself?"


    "We race smart. That''s all I''ll say."


    "Jackson Racing has high expectations for this season. Do you feel any pressure to perform right away?"


    "Pressure is part of the job," Luca answered this one with a slight chuckle. "Everyone''s feeling the pressure. I''m sure Luca Rennick is no exception."


    "Indeed, Luca," the reporter acknowledged. "So, to conclude, do you have any response to Max Addams?"


    Luca raised a brow. Max Addams? Why was he suddenly hearing that name in an F1 press conference?


    "Response? Max?" he asked, confused.


    "Yes. Max Addams kicked off the F2 season last night with a victory at 1st place," the reporter began.


    Oh, that I''ve heard...


    "And he mentioned something about ''true talent not being recognized.'' By any chance, Luca, do you think he might be referring to your entrance into F1 being a fluke?"


    Luca slowly shook his head, his mind reeling as he imagined the atmosphere here in Stellar last night when Max clinched the first Grand Prix silverware.


    "I think this will be all," Luca said, ready to leave. "He never explicitly mentioned my name, so do not presume anything. Thank you."


    The reporter withdrew her microphone and watched Luca walk out of the camera''s light and into the chilly night air, the floodlights shining brightly above.


    "...Welcome to Monaco, where the sun has long since descended, the harbor is glistening, and the anticipation for the first Grand Prix of the season is at an all-time high...!"


    "...my name is Sam Hamilton and I''m joined here in the commentary gantry with my colleague, Alex Gardner!"


    "....After months of waiting, countless hours of testing, and a long winter of speculation, drama, tragedy and resolve, the new Formula 1 season is finally here!"


    "...and what better way to kick things off than on the streets of Monte Carlo? A circuit that demands the bravery and absolute focus of our drivers!"


    "...you can feel the tension building, Sam? Because I can!"


    "... Jackson Racing and Marcellus Rodnick would have to defend their titles...!"


    "...Trampos Racing would have to show their worth in the biggest stage of motorsport...!"


    "...THIS LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IS THE FORMULA 1 MONACO GRAND PRIX...!"


    [Host hasn''t unlocked Skills to analyze rivals]


    Luca had been staring so hard at his rivals entering their garages that his system assumed he was trying to analyze them just like he did with cars.


    He exhaled deeply and turned into his team''s garage, which was alive with activity.


    Far ahead, he could already hear the announcement of 90 minutes till lights out.

 Chapter 282 - 282: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 2

    "...P10, Luis Dreyer...!"


    "...P9, Jimmy Damgaard...!''


    "...P8, Elias Nystr?m...!"


    "...P7, Hank Rice...!"


    "...P6, Marcellus Rodnick...!"


    Stellar was ready to host the first race of the season, and from the aerial footage captured from above, the circuit had never deserved its name more.


    It was a breathtaking sight as golden, white, and blue lights glittered all around the city.


    In the silence to the side, everything mirrored on the dark waters of the harbor. The straight that stretched alongside was fully bathed in blue lights, with a line of luxurious buildings to the left.


    A lot of helicopters were swarming the airspace of the circuit, even before the race had begun. They were capturing these pre-scenes and also the drivers engaged in free warm-up flying laps ahead of the race.


    "...Just look at this place. The harbor is packed, the terraces are overflowing, and the anticipation is electric. The roar of Formula 1 is about to take over the streets, where there''s no margin for error and no room to breathe...."


    "P5, Davide DiMarco...!"


    "P4, Mark Derfflinger...!"


    "...This is the season opener, and every single one of these drivers must have surely dreamt of winning it first here in Monte Carlo..."


    "...Let''s see who makes the statement first and which rivalries are forged anew or made stronger. It''s just twenty minutes till lights out, Monaco...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...P3, Ailbeart Moireach...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...P2, Marko Ignatova...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...Pole Position, Antonio Luigi...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    [You have reduced speed]


    Jackson Racing was still getting everything in order ahead of the race that would soon begin.


    Just as the streets of Monaco glowed under the floodlights, all the teams'' garages were just as brilliantly illuminated.


    And in Jackson''s, the fluorescent overhead lights gleamed and reflected the glow against the pit wall, tiles, doors, and glass, creating that futuristic aesthetic they intended.


    In the end, their garage looked like the interior of a spaceship.


    The team were obsessed with their logo, and it was emblazoned everywhere, catching the lights.


    Though every now and then, a shadow would pass over when a crew member moved to attend to something.


    One logo on the pit wall, in particular, stayed in the dark for quite some time as four crew members rushed out into the chilly night to welcome Luca, who had just coasted to a stop before the garage.


    Luca hopped out of the cockpit with their help and stepped into the garage.


    He had just wrapped up the free warm-ups, where drivers took their cars out for a quick feel of the track before the main race.


    Mr. Matthews approached him, his face set in a stern expression. The intensity of his gaze startled Luca. Luca wondered if he had somehow done something wrong.


    But the frustration wasn''t directed at him.


    Matthews leaned in, pointing at Luca''s cheek. "How did you get that cut? It''s fresh."


    Luca raised his brows and blinked, caught off guard. He reached up, pressing a thumb to the spot, then looked at his glove to find a faint smear of blood.


    "I really don''t know, sir," he said. "Maybe the interior of the helmet?"


    Matthews shook his head. "Luca, our helmets are perfectly designed to fit. They''ve got padding inside," he said. "And you''re wearing gloves. That means this cut came from one of the crew while helping you out. Just now."


    Luca touched his cheek again as Matthews turned sharply, raising his voice at the team. "Everyone¡ªcut your goddamn nails!"


    The outburst turned into an unexpected lesson on Jackson Racing''s standards, and Luca was getting an even clearer picture of just how strict and orderly the team was.


    "You drove well in the warm-up. Let''s keep it up," one of the strategists told him. Luca nodded in response.


    "Get a new Blanche," Mr. Matthews said, still irritated by the small injury. "We need you fresh. And get that cut taken care of."


    Luca gave a quick nod and headed toward the uniform room. Quietly, the girl responsible for the cut followed, guilt written all over her face.


    "Four straights, twenty turns," Luca said to Di Renzo in the uniform room. "First sector, harbor section, tunnel section, final sector. I say sixty laps feels like a stretch."


    Di Renzo folded his arms, watching as Luca worked swiftly on the light grid game, sharpening his reflexes before the race. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Di Renzo couldn''t fathom how his fingers moved with ridiculous speed, tapping the screen with precise accuracy that averaged 100% on the tablet''s score.


    Di Renzo then shook his head. "Monaco Grand Prix used to have way more laps back in the day. They''ve been cutting it down ''cause of all the new construction."


    Luca exhaled and dropped the tablet after scoring another perfect 100¡ªfor the thirty-fifth time. He rubbed his eyes, took a sip of electrified water, then downed some glucose.


    Di Renzo watched him in silence, taking in the way he moved with purpose.


    "Just don''t mess up your first race," he finally said. "Last thing you need is a DNF."


    "You''re right," Luca replied as he walked over to a fresh new racing suit.


    Mr. Matthews had referred to it as "a new Blanche" because Blanche were Jackson Racing''s suit makers just like how Veststar was to Trampos.


    After suiting up, Luca peeled off the small plaster from his cheek, checking the cut one last time before tossing it in the bin.


    Grabbing his helmet and head sock, he turned to Di Renzo, spreading his arms.


    "Where is Marcellus???"


    --------


    "...five minutes till lights out in this Monaco Grand Prix!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...This is a reminder: all non-essential personnel must vacate the pit lane in the next three minutes..."


    Everything had already been discussed prior to the night, but Mr. Matthews and the administrative crew still had more to clear up.


    For example, Rodnick, who would be driving on softs throughout the race, was bound to make two pit stops, or even three if necessary.


    Jackson Racing had predicted just a single pit stop for Luca, as the strategy was for him to go hard-soft.


    This meant he would start on hards, stretch them as long as possible, and then take on the rest of the race with softs for a faster finish.


    "Understood."


    Whenever Luca and Rodnick had their helmets on, it was nearly impossible to tell them apart unless someone glanced at their race numbers.


    Their body frame, size, and height were so similar and uncanny that if their visors were completely tinted, they could switch cars and drive in each other''s name without a soul realizing.


    They exchanged a firm dab handshake and headed to their Ferraris.


    "...twenty elite drivers about to kick off another season of the grandest stage in the history of motorsport!"


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Ferrari (JRX-92B)]


    Luca rolled out onto the pit lane, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the narrow lane, the pit limiter fully engaged.


    Rodnick followed behind, and it was clear that Ferraris were the most fearsome-looking cars in the competition.


    Luca caught a brief glimpse of Trampos'' garage as he coasted along.


    He exhaled sharply and refocused, pressing on as his JRX-92B glided onto the circuit.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The streetlights above cast long streaks of white across his visor as he joined the flow of cars finding their grid positions.


    Luca knew he was to share a row with Luis Dreyer of Outback Performance, so his eyes searched for Outback''s colors and a Red Bull chassis design.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOH!" The crowd''s roar surged through the night air, echoing off the tight barriers of Circuit de l''¨¦toile.


    "Aaahhhh. There you guys are," Luca muttered, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety as the track opened up toward the grid.


    Ahead, he could see four single-seaters were already weaving their way to their grid spots, their brake lights flickering too frequently through the night.


    Luca took a deep breath and rolled into box 11, while Rodnick drove past him to take his position further up.


    Seconds later, Luis Dreyer took his spot in box 10, revving his engine a little bit.


    What engine is that, in fact?


    Cosworth PJ2005.


    6% lower in average than Luca''s 056.


    He had just done the comparison, and it seemed Dreyer''s engine was designed for continuous, undying sustainability¡ªrelentless output.


    That seemed quite threatening, making Luca wander his gaze to start analyzing other cars.


    But he didn''t have much time because the grid marshals had left their post, the grid was filled up, and the first light had just flashed on!


    So, he decided to analyze Luigi''s alone. The veteran was at pole, after all. He was everyone''s target.


    [Car Specifications:


    Brand: Mercedes


    Model: Mercedes-AMG F1 W09


    Engine Type: Mercedes-AMG F1 V11 EQ Performance


    Weight: 745 kg ]


    [Performance Metrics:


    Top Speed: 360 km/h (0 km/h)


    Acceleration: 2.5 sec


    Max Power: 1050 HP (~160 HP boost)


    Aerodynamic Efficiency: 3.5 ]


    [Operational Status:


    Fuel Level: 85%


    Tire Condition: New (Softs)


    Telemetry Status: Active


    DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]


    "This is not enough, system," Luca said, eyeing the three red lights. "Compare it to mine."


    [Chassis Comparison]


    [Retrieving Data from registered car and car under analysis....]


    [...Data successfully retrieved!]


    [Selected Modes:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B):


    ¡ªMercedes (AMG F1 W09) ]


    [POWER & PERFORMANCE:


    ¡ªMercedes (AMG F1 W09): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 96%???


    [AERODYNAMICS & CHASSIS:


    ¡ªMercedes (AMG F1 W09): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 93%???


    [HANDLING & DYNAMICS:


    ¡ªMercedes (AMG F1 W09): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [ENDURANCE & RELIABILITY:


    ¡ªMercedes (AMG F1 W09): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [TECHNOLOGICAL INTEGRATION:


    ¡ªMercedes (AMG F1 W09): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%??? ]


    [Review: Ferrari (JRX-92B) is built for podiums, while Mercedes (AMG F1 W09) is built for domination.]

 Chapter 283 - 283: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 3

    "...and the greatest motor races begin in five... lights tie! And the Monaco Grand Prix is underway!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Without delay, the grid got the first launch of the line for the season from Antonio Luigi.


    Far back in the pack, in the middle, Luca''s tires spun like a motor itself, responding deftly to his Grid Launch Skill that was half completed.


    Antonio Luigi maintained the lead against his own teammate, Marko, as the Monaco Grand Prix officially had a racing structure into Street Turn 1.


    "...the top 4 as they were, the top 5 as they were, top 7 and 8, but Luca Rennick has cleared off his dust against Luis Dreyer...!"


    "...the top 10 changes....!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [Grid Launch +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    "That''s a very wild start, very wild," Luis Dreyer complained to his team over the radio as Luca filled his view with his Ferrari gearbox. "Look into it."


    [10th Position]


    In Luca''s opinion, Grid Launch was a very impressive Skill, not just because of its simple upper hand, but because of the difference between each value.


    Unlike some other Skills, where he couldn''t tell the difference between, let''s say, (7) and (8) or (9) and (10), Grid Launch was unique in its way, making him feel exactly how he pounced further than before.


    [11th Position closing in]


    [12th Position closing in]


    So, the first overtake of the season went to Luca. Up ahead, he could see Nystr?m had overtaken Rice, and Rodnick was now engaged with DiMarco.


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 180 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    After making Street Turn 1, the track unfolded toward the real street complex of Circuit de l''¨¦toile.


    Now, everybody had beared their respective positions on top of their chassis, glowing through the dark night sky.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 220 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 380m


    -Time: 20 sec ]


    [Turn type: Tight left-hander] [Angle: 75¡ã] [Braking Point: 80 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 240 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid lane]


    "...it''s impressive to see all four drivers of two top teams keeping hold of the top four with only Davide DiMarco trailing behind..."


    "....Haddock and Squadra tonight have the upper hand to walk away with maximum points, say their drivers finish at these positions..."


    [Turn type: Sweeping Left] [Angle: 60¡ã] [Braking Point: 45 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 290 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid lane]


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 9th Position]


    [You are 0.6 seconds away, host.]


    The streets at the first sector of the circuit were too narrow, limiting the chances for an overtake, so Luca had to be careful for even he didn''t have the power to expand the track.


    He could only search for the best lines to take when an opening presented itself.


    Jimmy Damgaard drove proudly and defensively before him. Luca analyzed his Red Bull, realizing it was almost on par with his 92B, but he, Luca, had the edge in certain statistics.


    Pressing down on the impressive downforce of his 92B, Luca forced his car to nose in, looking to climb the leaderboard early in the race.


    On Damgaard''s dashboard, a red arrow pointed to his right, indicating a rival was making a threatening move for his position.


    Damgaard already had his eyes on his gearbox cam, so Luca''s ambition was on full display.


    A haughty, vainglorious 23-year-old, Damgaard scoffed at the sight of Luca and moved his chassis to cover up the lane just as the next turn opened up.


    [Turn type: Hairpin] [Angle: 170¡ã] [Braking Point: 200 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 90 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Outside Late]


    [You have reduced speed]


    Forced to fall in line behind Damgaard, Luca shifted his focus to defending against Dreyer again as the three cars glided through the tight hairpin, weaving around a magnificent, golden-glowing hotel where people cheered from above.


    [Straightaway ahead]


    Luca glanced at the leaderboard on his dashboard¡ªanother neat technological input by Jackson Racing.


    His eyes went to the updated standings:


    P5¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P6¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ý


    No wonder the cheers had intensified a bit, two great drivers had just engaged in a peak duel, and Rodnick emerged victorious, sending DiMarco behind him using the very straight Luca and the rest were on now.


    This was still the first lap, Luca reckoned. Even though it was, he wanted to act with urgency, because he had no doubt his rivals would do the same.


    As he slowly exited Turn 3 hairpin, his fingers hovered over the ERS and DRS buttons like a seasoned gamer who knew his pad inside out.


    Damgaard maxed out energy output once the straight opened up, his engine screaming the loudest through the night as he surged forward with tremendous speed.


    Luca wanted to follow suit and match him, but before he could, a system alert flashed on his HUD, warning him about his own slipstream being exploited.


    [Warning: Slipstream Threat Detected] S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Analyzing car behind...]


    [Green Red Bull (RB17C)]


    [Distance: 0.5s ¡ú 0.2s ¡ú 0.0s]


    [Speed Increase: +11 km/h due to slipstream]


    It happened all too fast for Luca. Dreyer took his chance, pulling alongside and seamlessly transitioning his slipstream benefits from Luca''s car to Damgaard''s.


    [11th Position]


    "...an incredible racing scene on the first straight there as Luis Dreyer takes back P11! And oh my¡ªhe''s going for the top 10!"


    "...Damgaard will not give it to him into Turn 5!"


    Luca saw it unfold before him as Dreyer tried to make his momentum count by committing into the next street bounded by cages.


    Damgaard''s defiance cost him dearly. He attempted to block Dreyer''s path, positioning his car aggressively to defend.


    Luca had thought F1 tires were built to withstand immense pressure, but Damgaard''s front right reacted just as he believed an F2 tire would. It was instantly distressed by the contact.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...oof, it looks like there''s an issue there for Jimmy Damgaard. We see sparks out of the back of his car...!"


    "....there must''ve been a slight contact there, and Damgaard tries to correct¡ªbut he can''t!"


    Jimmy Damgaard''s right front tire let out a cough of smoke as he glided into an escape route, veering away from the track''s direction.


    "...AND HE''S OFF! JIMMY DAMGAARD IS OFF IN THE OPENING LAP OF THE MONACO GRAND PRIX!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [10th Position]

 Chapter 284 - 284: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 4

    "...a result this young Norwegian didn''t expect tonight, an unexpected result in general for the Italian giants, Bueseno Velocit¨¤...!"


    "...Jimmy Damgaard, #84, A DNF!" The announcement rang out, and the spectators erupted in a loud cheer.


    **Yellow flags down, remain alert**


    [10th Lap]


    The incident had occurred nine laps ago, yet its effect still held strong in the pack as everyone remained fully alert.


    Being automatically pushed one position was a gift, one that every driver in the bottom half of the leaderboard was more than willing to capitalize on.


    Back then, when the yellow flags were raised and Damgaard''s car¡ªstill intact¡ªwas towed out, the safety car''s parade began.


    However, this time, it wasn''t the usual safety car. Jimmy Damgaard''s DNF due to tire delamination in Monaco became the first to trigger the new Virtual Safety Car (VSC) system.


    During the FIA Gala, officials addressed¡ªunder the changes¡ªconcerns about traditional safety car periods being too time-consuming and disrupting race flow.


    To fix this, the Virtual Safety Car was introduced. Instead of deploying a physical car, drivers must adhere to a controlled delta time, maintaining safe speeds while marshals handle incidents.


    This minimizes delays and keeps the race rhythm intact.


    So, the drivers were expected to believe a safety car was physically on track, and they adhered to every rule all the same.


    However, the deployment of the Virtual Safety Car or the Traditional Safety Car depended on the severity of the issue.


    In the case of minor incidents, like debris on track or a stranded car in a safe zone, the Virtual Safety Car was preferred, keeping the race neutralized without bunching up the field.


    However, for major crashes or hazardous conditions, the Traditional Safety Car was still necessary to guide the pack and ensure safety.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 300 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 80% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    -Distance covered: 60000m


    -Time: 11 min. ]


    Ruefully, Luca remained stuck in the middle of the leaderboard¡ªP10.


    It appeared to him that the middle pack of F1 was tougher than the head pack of F2.


    A new contender, Lloyd, had pushed himself against the odds, overtaking his own teammate and now bringing his Velox Mercedes closer to Luca, street after street.


    Luca, on the other hand, felt vulnerable. He had lost Dreyer, who had astonishingly overtaken Nystr?m, who he had thought was unbeatable in a duel.


    And now, the defensive masterclass Nystr?m could''ve used against Dreyer was being used against him instead.


    [11th Position closing in]


    Luca began to gauge his chances of escaping the crosshairs of a Mercedes. Ever since he analyzed Luigi''s car, he had immediately developed both fear and respect for the automobile company.


    What if there''s nothing to fear? Luca thought.


    After all, if Velox Hispania truly had great Mercedes chassis at their disposal, they''d be a big name¡ªbut they weren''t.


    This meant Squadra Corse fully owned the best products, and Velox must''ve settled for the second team, using models that weren''t under Squadra''s name.


    Luca lowered his gaze to the gearbox cam to see Lloyd weaving with persistence. He called for a car analysis, followed by a chassis comparison.


    He needed to be sure because he feared that even an average Mercedes chassis would be on par with some of the great cars on this grid.


    Lloyd''s car was a Mercedes (Benz V196), housing a Mercedes-Benz FO 110W as its A-level engine.


    [Chassis Comparison]


    [Retrieving Data from registered car and car under analysis....]


    [...Data successfully retrieved!]


    [Selected Modes:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B)


    ¡ªMercedes (Benz V196) ]


    [POWER & PERFORMANCE:


    ¡ªMercedes (Benz V196): 93% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 96%???


    [AERODYNAMICS & CHASSIS:


    ¡ªMercedes (Benz V196): 90% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 93%???


    [HANDLING & DYNAMICS:


    ¡ªMercedes (Benz V196): 95% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [ENDURANCE & RELIABILITY:


    ¡ªMercedes (Benz V196): 92% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [TECHNOLOGICAL INTEGRATION:


    ¡ªMercedes (Benz V196): 93% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%??? ]


    It seemed pretty much below Luca''s 92B in all categories, so he reckoned he had nothing to fear from Lloyd''s car.


    But that didn''t mean the driver couldn''t work with his own intuition.


    The middle pack drove around a block, marking Turn 5, as they rounded into the harbor section, where the leading drivers were already pushing through.


    There was no definite leader or leaders yet; the pack was still congested, and the race remained open for action and changes.


    P4¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ü


    P5¡ª Mark Derfflinger ¡ý


    -------------------------------------


    P5¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ü¡ü


    P6¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ý


    [Straightaway ahead]


    Luca gripped the wheel even tighter, the engine rumbling as he made it through Turn 7, trailing behind Nystr?m''s wake.


    His tires quickly gripped the asphalt, and he straightened up to face the stretch that lined beside the harbor.


    To the side, Luca could see luxurious yachts parked in a neat line at the waterfront of the dark saltwater. The water was a shimmering beauty because of the harsh intensity of the track''s light.


    Some wealthy spectators were on the decks, getting a very nice view of the track as drivers sped past.


    Nystr?m''s slipstream knocked at Luca''s door, but Luca didn''t use it right away. His focus now was to unlatch Lloyd because if he didn''t, he would keep pestering and eventually overtake him.


    Desmond Lloyd, in his cockpit, bit his lip when Luca''s brake lights disappeared, meaning he planned to take on the straight with full power.


    Lloyd was less than a second behind, so DRS was much suited to take him to P10. His car bit the entrance of the straight, the spectators on the decks cheering him to go for it!


    IT WAS ALMOST A CONTACT BETWEEN DESMOND LLOYD AND LUCA RENNICK!


    Luca was going to rank that in his Top 3 Best Straightaway Chopping, maybe even rank it higher than the one he executed on Max Addams right in this circuit one year ago.


    [Straightaway Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    **Wonderfully executed!**


    Lloyd was so stunned for a second that his teammate, Vasquez, overtook him and joined Luca on the rest of the straight to attack the next streets of Monte Carlo.


    [Analyzing 11th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [11th Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    There was now just a second of space between him and Vasquez¡ªanother Mercedes driver¡ªbut at least it was enough while at turns to focus on the driver ahead.


    But Luca just realized his split-second braking had also subtly increased the distance between him and Nystr?m.


    And it seemed Nystr?m was now trying to engage with a car ahead. It was a purple single-seater, the manufacturer Luca wasn''t too sure of.


    However, he knew the colors, because the team had once approached him for his signature last winter.


    Iberia Grand Prix. Audi-powered Spanish team.


    That meant Nystr?m was troubling none other than Hank Rice, former Nevada driver.


    Luca wondered how that was possible. He thought it was Dreyer at P8 and Rice at P7. Fortunately, he was quick enough to glance at his dashboard before the change solidified.


    P7¡ª Luis Dreyer ¡ü


    P8¡ª Hank Rice ¡ý


    "Son of a¡ª"


    All of a sudden, zero-time world champion, Luis Dreyer of Outback Performance, was currently the MVP in the first race of the season, the Monaco Grand Prix.

 Chapter 285 - 285: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 5

    Too absorbed in the upcoming duel between him and Hank Rice, Elias Nystr?m failed to deny Luca his slipstream.


    Advantageously, Luca returned to his previous delta, now just less than a second behind Nystr?m''s Audi, designed with Sweden''s national colors.


    [Slipstream Mastery +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    "The Sync Bar is filling up way faster than I expected," Luca noted. "I thought it''d be much harder."


    [Ding!]


    [Slipstream Mastery at (19)]


    [1 point left to max out the Skill!]


    "Ah, that''s great," Luca said. "So a new Skill is just around the corner? Guess I''ll have to start working on leveling that one up too¡­ sigh."


    But the excitement wasn''t really there for Luca. The idea of gaining another Skill didn''t thrill him as much anymore.


    He already had Night Mastery and Slipsense & Rainborne waiting to be improved, yet they still weren''t where he wanted them to be.


    As if reading his thoughts, the system deemed it necessary to remind Luca that the Skill-acquiring structure had been altered the moment he unlocked Professional Bundle and the ability to upgrade his car¡ªany car.


    [System has blocked host''s ability to attain Self Skills until Top Driver Bundle]


    "Hmmm. Why?" Luca asked. "What happens if I meet the requirements for a new Skill? Will it just be wasted?"


    [No, host.]


    [For every completed requirement, system will accumulate until 3/3 and unlock a Car Skill instead.]


    This meant he wouldn''t be gaining Self Skills for now. Every time he reached the conditions for one, the system would store it.


    Once three were accumulated, they would be converted into a Car Skill instead, essentially trading three Self Skills for one Car Skill.


    That wasn''t a fair exchange in Luca''s opinion, but he accepted regardless.


    "A very interesting adjustment to keep me progressing," Luca said, feeling somewhat relieved as he considered the possibilities. "So once I unlock Top Driver Bundle, everything goes back to normal?"


    [Yes, host.]


    The system had given him more windows to unlock Car Skills faster and fill his arsenal, all Luca had to do was act.


    And right now, behind Nystr?m and Rice, he had to act stealthily, approaching their duel without appearing offensive.


    Rice could see the two cars looming in his mirrors like wild animals in the dark night.


    To his rear right, Nystr?m was applying pressure, while Luca lurked just behind his rear wing.


    Hank Rice quickly made his decision to defend against Nystr?m. He was familiar with Nystr?m but not with Luca.


    Besides, Luca might just be another young aspirant, so determined, only to be thrown down the pack again later in the race.


    "...It''s getting tough out there, especially in Sector 3! Hank Rice is under immense pressure, with Nystr?m breathing down his neck and Luca lurking just behind...!"


    "...Rice has moved his chassis to defend against Nystr?m, but that might leave the door open for Luca to make a surprise move. This is shaping up to be a tense battle as they navigate the trickiest part of the circuit...!"


    In the distance, Luca noticed the number 6 holographic display switch from green¡ªa teammate color¡ªto blue.


    He quickly glanced at the dashboard:


    P5¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P6¡ª Mark Derfflinger ¡ý


    **P5 has been won. C''mon!** Rodnick announced through the radio, pumping his fist in his cockpit.


    His celebration wasn''t even about overtaking Derfflinger, it was about getting close to DiMarco again for a rematch, and this time, he intended to emerge victorious.


    [Straightaway ahead]


    Entering the main complex of Sector 3, the tunnel section loomed ahead, waiting for the next drivers to surge through. Its dark asphalt had already been heated to melting point by the tires of the race leaders.


    Luca braced himself to navigate the dim stretch of the tunnel, though his real concern was the escalating battle between Nystr?m and Rice.


    Given Stellar''s narrow streets, Nystr?m had multiple opportunities to launch out of the inner lane, but the tight space kept shutting him down. On a wider circuit, he might have already completed the overtake by now.


    Rice was defending smartly, maintaining just enough gap from the cage barriers. The gap was not wide enough for Nystr?m to squeeze through, but enough to keep him struggling and remain hopeful.


    Meanwhile, Luca, trailing right behind them, had completely blocked Nystr?m''s alternative of making a sharp left switch.


    This was building up to a three-wide dogfight into the tunnel. Luca could feel it coming. He quickly honed the small (4) Night Mastery he had.


    If he was lucky, he might actually level it up this time since he was going to use it in a moment of importance and tension other than the previous nine laps.


    **Stay to the left. Turn 11 after the tunnel is a right-hander. Elias will get squeezed out. You take the outside¡ªquick**


    "Understood!"


    Amongst the three of them, Luca had the best chassis, seconded by Nystr?m''s Audi.


    Hank was piloting an Iberia GP Audi as well, but it wasn''t on the same level as Nystr?m''s, putting him at a disadvantage as the tunnel opened up.


    And the tunnel''s asphalt was wide enough to simultaneously contain three cars if they drove in order.


    So at the very least, considering Formula drivers'' roughness, either Luca or Nystr?m was joining Rice side-by-side to fight for P8 as if it were P1.


    "...There is aggression as they head into the tunnel! Luca Rennick slots in to the side, doing what Nystr?m couldn''t do for a whole lap now...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luckily for Luca, he got the Night Mastery notification before he switched his focus to Side-by-Side King.


    He didn''t want to ruin the progress of Night Mastery by disrupting his focus for Side-by-Side King. Fortunately, it had added a point, and now, he could pressure Hank Rice into giving him P8.


    It would be a double overtake!


    Nystr?m''s engine was roaring, bouncing off the walls of the tunnel as they sped like race cars indeed through its sweeper, Luca slowly gaining the upper hand.


    [Night Mastery +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 180 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    Now there was the turn Mr. Berry informed Luca about.


    The system recommended he take the inside, but he was at the brink of the left. Dropping back just to adhere to the recommendations was definitely not a reasonable move.


    Since inside was tagged "optimal," it didn''t mean other alternatives wouldn''t work. So, Luca set his sights on the cage barriers that made a perfect round 90¡ã, the night cityscape and the marshals standing behind the steel. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He wasn''t sure if he had enough time to fully execute Side-by-Side King, but it seemed Hank Rice was faltering now that both Luca and Nystr?m swarmed him, catching the attention of the cameras.


    Luca braked later than the 100 meters recommended since it wasn''t the same lane he was taking, and since he intended for a drift.


    Luca flicked his wheel and sent the rear of his Ferrari into a slide, the tires screeching even louder than the A-level engines that were battling closely.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    [Calculating host drift exit....]


    Nystr?m eyed Luca''s audacious move, while Rice only focused on escaping his primal rivals.


    As if he knew Luca''s system recommendation, Rice chose the inner lane into the Street. And if he were to take it, he''d totally block off Nystr?m this time, sending him to P10 as the case would be since Luca was advancing.


    Nystr?m wasn''t going to let this happen!


    Meanwhile, Luca was at the apex of the 90¡ã, his tires producing a cloud of smoke that even the marshals behind the cages choked on.


    His Spatial Awareness quickly alerted him of Nystr?m''s plans to never drop down the pack and his eyes shifted to meet his.


    [...Calculation failed]


    "...Elias Nystr?m forces his way into Hank Rice''s inner line¡ªhe''s not backing down! Rice tries to hold his ground, but Nystr?m is already halfway alongside...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "....Contact! There''s a slight rub between the two Audis! Hank''s rear end twitches....HE SPINS...!"


    Hank Rice''s car spun once and instantly kissed Luca''s car, who was about to complete his drift.


    Luca immediately felt the tremble and the loss of control. The cloud of smoke from his tires grew even thicker as he now drifted in circles uncontrollably, his (6) Gripper unable to make a big difference.


    As a car at a drift, there was no downforce nor any rigid strength to the car. So, Luca 100% lost immediate control when Hank''s Audi touched him.


    [Traction lost]

 Chapter 286 - 286: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 6

    NOTE: Slipstream Mastery was already at (19) before the last chapter. Apologies for the oversight in Chapter 275, where Luca had already upgraded it from (18) to (19).


    This means that after gaining the last point in the previous chapter, Slipstream Mastery is now fully completed at (20).


    Hence:


    [Slipstream Mastery Completed!]


    [New Car Skill Accumulating: 1/3]


    --------


    The loss of control only lasted for a second or half. Luca was able to make good use of his impressive Agility, high Reflexes, and Track Awareness to pilot his spinning car.


    He spun 360¡ã three times, the second time losing car integrity with a subtle hit to the cage barriers.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [Traction Unstable]


    The hit wasn''t a hazardous one, and it actually helped Luca regain control, cutting the tires to the left when it skidded to the right. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Traction Detected]


    **Luca! Are you still in it?!**


    ".... IT''S ABSOLUTE CHAOS BEYOND THE TUNNEL!"


    "...HANK RICE''S CAR SPINS OUT AND HE CLIPS LUCA MID-DRIFT! THAT''S A FULL-BLOWN TANGO ON THE ASPHALT...!"


    Rhythm was lost, but at least he''d regained control.


    Luca''s gaze darted to his mirrors as his engineers sought his response.


    "I''m still running," he replied, his eyes searching for the cars he had just fought with in the darkness.


    For a split second, everything was a spill of color until Luca''s vision cleared, and he could see Hank Rice''s Audi calmly parked at the 90¡ã turn.


    Definitely a DNF, Luca thought.


    "¡­It''s a second yellow flag session in this Monaco Grand Prix as Hank Rice has seen red¡­!"


    ----------


    [20th Lap]


    Silence reigned in Luca''s 92B as he focused on his thoughts, reminiscing about Hank Rice''s sudden fallout from the Monaco Grand Prix.


    Honestly, Luca had believed¡ªfrom the way they were positioned¡ªthat Nystr?m would be the one to meet a bad ending.


    Back then, he had felt a little guilty for contributing to the pressure Rice was forced to endure¡ªwas unable to endure, rather.


    But that was F1. Its nature was unforgiving and ruthless, where any moment of hesitation, any fraction of miscalculation, could decide your fate.


    Still, Luca would have loved to square off against a great driver like Hank Rice on these streets. He supposed he and Nystr?m had pushed a little too hard for the veteran.


    Yet Luca wondered how Hank Rice would have handled the situation if he had been piloting his usual Nevada Ferrari and the Warpburner.


    Perhaps Luca himself might have been the one walking off the track¡ªor maybe still Nystr?m. Who knew?


    [8th Position]


    After the incident, Luca had, of course, climbed to P8, once again trailing behind Dreyer on the leaderboard.


    Nystr?m was still behind him, but Luca knew that wouldn''t last long because he had been slapped with a 5-second penalty for forcing his way into Rice''s inner line back then, which ultimately led to their contact.


    It was a racing incident at first glance, but the stewards deemed Nystr?m''s move too aggressive, especially given how tight Street Turn 11 was.


    Luca assessed his performance so far in his first Formula 1 race.


    Started at P11. 20 laps in. Now at P8. 40 laps to go.


    He wondered if he had truly advanced on merit or if his position was simply the result of two DNFs favoring him, essentially boosting him up the leaderboard.


    So far, the Monaco Grand Prix had seen four DNFs in just 20 laps.


    The first three had only warranted yellow flags¡ªJimmy Damgaard''s tire delamination, Hank Rice''s suspension failure, and Mikhail Petrov''s own tire delamination.


    But a red flag had been raised once for a crash at the tail of the pack. The safety car had been deployed for the incident, and Luca wasn''t surprised when Erik Haas''s name disappeared from the leaderboard.


    It must''ve been humiliating for Haas. Imagine losing control all on your own, with no pressure from anyone, only to slam into the barriers at the back of the pack. P20 to DNF.


    That really had to sting for Trampos.


    P15 ¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­ ¡ü


    P16 ¡ª J¨®zef Konarski ¡ü


    XXX ¡ª Jimmy Damgaard ¡ý


    XXX ¡ª Mikhail Petrov ¡ý


    XXX ¡ª Hank Rice ¡ý


    XXX ¡ª Erik Haas ¡ý


    Luca scanned the P15¨CP20 section but didn''t see Ansel''s name. Looking further up, he was impressed to find Ansel at P13, astonishingly ahead of Javier Montez.


    Boosted by the DNFs or not, jumping from P18 to P13 was still an impressive feat in F1.


    [Tires are in good condition, host. Fuel level at 65%. DRS is now available. Engine temperature is optimal. Brake wear at 5%.]


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. Recommend maintaining current pace.]


    [Tire Wear Management +1]


    [Longevity +2]


    "Ahhhh?"


    "What did you just increase?"


    [Host''s Car Attribute: Tire Wear Management]


    [Host''s Engine Feature: Longevity]


    [Both have been leveled up accordingly.]


    Luca had almost forgotten about these newer aspects of his system. Only now did he fully grasp how much broader the scale had become.


    This meant he now had to tilt his focus away from improving himself but the car now.


    As far as Luca was concerned, he knew he could dominate this grid if everyone had the same chassis and engine.


    But the varying features and capabilities across the field were creating subtle, yet crucial, differences!


    "Longevity got boosted by two? Is that how this category works?"


    [Affirmative, host. Engine Features receive random boosts instead of a fixed point increase.]


    "It doesn''t help fill up the Sync Bar?"


    [Negative, host.]


    "Tsk. Should''ve seen that one coming. Thanks, by the way. (7) Longevity is definitely better than (5)," Luca said. "This is just the beginning! S-level, here I come!"


    **Marcellus will be seeing the pits. Track belongs to you**


    The drivers who had started the race on soft compounds were now considering a pit stop after experiencing clear signs of degradation.


    The relentless nature of Circuit de l''¨¦toile, with its tight street corners and heavy braking zones, had accelerated tire wear, making grip a growing concern.


    Some were still pushing the limits, trying to squeeze out a few more laps before diving into the pits, while others, like Rodnick, had already made their decision.


    Luca, however, had hard tires fitted to his 92B, so he was still as solid as a pillar!


    **Luis will take the pit lane. We can advance from here now**


    Luca didn''t fully grasp Mr. Berry''s words, until he cleared the final street section and approached the home straight.


    Right in front of him, Luis Dreyer, who had been just a second ahead, had his brake lights flashing as he veered into the pit lane.


    A wide grin spread across Luca''s face, stretching to both ends of his visor.


    "Yes!" he celebrated, surging into P7, flying down the home straight to start another lap around Circuit de l''¨¦toile.


    "....Luca Rennick in P7!"

 Chapter 287 - 287: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 7

    P7¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P8¡ª Luis Dreyer ¡ý


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 180 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    Luca quickly ceased his celebrations of P7 and returned his focus back to the track as Street Turn 1 loomed ahead.


    The moment he committed to the system''s recommendations and his car swung into the right-hander, his eyes locked onto an orange figure up ahead.


    A Haddock Racing Renault, either piloted by Ailbeart Moireach or Mark Derfflinger.


    Luca glanced at the dashboard''s leaderboard display for confirmation. Once verified, he acknowledged Derfflinger as the driver ahead.


    Derfflinger had started the race at P4, right behind his teammate Ailbeart Moireach.


    But it was clear his qualifying position had been a bit of an overreach, as the big guns were gradually pushing him further away from maximum points.


    Luca supposed it was his turn to push him even further.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 6th Position]


    [You are 1.2 seconds away, host.]


    The German, Derfflinger, had just come out of the pits and was carrying only a fraction of the momentum Luca currently possessed.


    Cutting the delta wasn''t a difficult task, and Luca found himself grinning as they delved deeper into the streets.


    **Derfflinger is on cold tires, so he''ll struggle for grip these next few turns**


    That was music to Luca''s ears!


    He stayed tight to the racing lines, keeping a steady throttle to ensure he didn''t overshoot the turns in his enthusiasm to overtake.


    Derfflinger, on the other hand, was wrestling his car to find the ideal traction needed for professional F1 racing. His fresh soft rubber still lacked the bite necessary to accelerate and round turns with confidence.


    At some point, Derfflinger nearly faltered, prompting a roar from the crowd as they witnessed him almost crash.


    It was as if the pressure from the Ferrari behind had sent an invisible force to cloud his judgment. S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mark Derfflinger had to be careful. Where there were no cages, the walls of Circuit de l''¨¦toile were painted with black streaks from countless brushes with disaster.


    He might be another name on that list tonight as Luca closed the gap assertively.


    The first straight was approaching, and Luca hoped to be in P6 before it, or while on it¡ªbut not after.


    **You''re gaining, Luca. He might have some heat now**


    Mr. Berry was right. Derfflinger had begun warming up his tires.


    Luca never wanted him to make it this far, but the track''s narrowness gave him crash concerns.


    Derfflinger started to weave, something he hadn''t been doing before. Now, he was making a real effort to cover Luca''s line and recover from his feints.


    [Straightaway ahead!]


    [Turn type: Hairpin] [Angle: 170¡ã] [Braking Point: 200 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 90 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Outside Late]


    Luca took a big risk and edged close to the curbs, since there were no cages or walls at the hairpin.


    This positioned him in a slanted stance, a daring defining position that didn''t escape Derfflinger''s notice, or anyone else''s.


    "...LUCA RENNICK GOES WIDE AND DIVES IN WITH THAT FERRARI!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    The right tires wore pretty bad after that move, but at least now, Luca was occupying the same space of track as Derfflinger.


    Surprisingly, Luca received an unexpected notification.


    [Gripper +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    It turned out that after nearly thirty minutes of racing, the borderline driving he had just executed had boosted Gripper''s EXP.


    Now, he had gone from (6) to (7).


    "Wait¡­ Car Skills also fill up the Sync Bar?"


    [Affirmative, host]


    [Sync Buff is a feature that affects the synchronization between host and car]


    [Both host and car can contribute to Sync Bar progression more frequently than ever before]


    Luca recalled the night at the gym when he had used the Wrench to level up Gripper from (5) to (6).


    "Ah, dammit! Had I known!"


    Using the Wrench mid-race would have been a clever advantage.


    If he had known that leveling up car skills contributed to the Sync Bar, he would have spent the Wrench during this race. The Sync Bar would be at 75% now, much closer to 100%.


    It wasn''t worth dwelling on, so Luca let it slide¡ªjust as he slid ahead of Derfflinger before the straight''s stretch.


    Derfflinger gritted his teeth and fought to hold his position, but he was compromised as Luca powered forward.


    **P6 Secured. Good job!**


    "Fuckkkkkk!" Derfflinger''s voice exploded over the team radio.


    Battling with unstable traction and a rival was always going to be a frustration fuel for any driver. Luca couldn''t blame him.


    "...MARK DERFFLINGER OF HADDOCK RACING COULDN''T DEFEND P6 ANYMORE AS LUCA RENNICK TAKES IT...!"


    "...ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE TOP FIVE FOR THE YOUNG ITALIAN...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [6th Position]


    P5¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P6¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P7¡ª Mark Derfflinger ¡ý


    After taking a good look at the leaderboard, Luca just realized he was right below Rodnick.


    So, he took his gaze up in search of the green holographic number 5.


    There it was. How far away? Not too far, surely.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    Two seconds might be quite the great gap for a circuit like Stellar, but that didn''t change the fact that Luca was behind Rodnick in the pack.


    So, that meant Rodnick was his next target now.


    Hmmm....


    **Luca, pace is good. Rodnick ahead, less than two seconds**


    "I know I see him."


    **Copy. Stay alert**


    Luca was still thinking about this when the foundations of Monaco''s buildings shook to the roar of the crowd.


    A wave of cheers that rippled the air itself followed, and the distant echo of the commentary kept resonating nonstop!


    Luca''s heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted to his dashboard to know what was happening.


    Surely, someone must have hit the barricades, the cages or walls, or there was some spectacular overtake.


    P1¡ª Marko Ignatova ¡ü


    P2¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ý


    "Impossible," Luca whispered. He had always thought Luigi to be untouchable by his own teammate, and only top rivals actually gave him a tough time.


    But it seemed Marko really did some outstanding driving, because Luca could see the increasing time delta between them.


    Did Luigi hit somewhere and slow down?


    "...THIS IS MERCEDES VERSUS MERCEDES! THE DOMINANT TEAM AT WAR WITH ITSELF...!"


    "...WHAT A MOVE! WHAT A MOVE FROM MARKO IGNATOVA...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s fingers tightened around the wheel as his mind gradually raced away from the Marko situation.


    Two teammates, he thought. Two top drivers. A great team. A great car manufacturer.


    Was this what was waiting for him and Rodnick?


    Maybe he and his new teammate could put on an even greater duel than Marko and Luigi''s.


    Rodnick received the red flash arrow on his dashboard.


    He looked down at the cam to see a familiar Ferrari trailing steadily.

 Chapter 288 - 288: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 8

    [30th Lap]


    [Handling +1]


    [Braking Efficiency +1]


    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect)


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing) ]


    [ {!!} Slipstream Engagement failed!]


    [Overtake Window: Blocked]


    "Ah, damn you, Rodnick," Luca hissed.


    [Chicane Ahead]


    [Turn Type: Three-Turn Chicane (Right ¡ú Left ¡ú Right)]


    [Approach Width: 8.0m ¡ú Tightens at Apex: 6.5m ¡ú Widens at Exit: 7.6m]


    Before Luca could fully lock onto Rodnick''s slipstream, Rodnick disrupted the alignment flow and dived into the chicane.


    Luca immediately felt the drag return, Rodnick''s brake lights flashing as he followed him through the weaving turns.


    This was the fifth time Rodnick had evaded Luca''s overtaking attempt. But even without the slipstream advantage, Luca was no longer two seconds behind.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 0.8 seconds away, host.]


    Luca knew it wasn''t because Rodnick was the better driver that he hadn''t caught up yet.


    In fact, he vividly recalled their training drills, where he had overtaken Rodnick countless times. And to be clear, these weren''t just casual overtakes because Rodnick had been serious in those moments.


    So, the only reason Rodnick had the upper hand in this duel was the subtle advantages his JRX-97 had over Luca''s JRX-92B.


    Luca didn''t have the JRX-97 registered in the system, so he couldn''t give a precise number-to-attribute breakdown of how the 97 outclassed the 92B.


    However, in the Chassis Comparison he had done earlier, the 97 was clearly ahead of the 92B.


    Under the <AERODYNAMICS AND CHASSIS> category, it stood at 100%, while the 92B still held its 93%.


    From these values, Luca could make educated guesses about the JRX-97''s chassis attributes and how they surpassed his.


    In fact, the entire car''s statistics were better than his 92B. And across all categories in the Chassis Comparison, Rodnick''s 97 honed 100%, just like Luigi''s AMG F1 W09.


    All categories¡ªexcept one.


    One single category where it tallied 99%, just 1% short of perfection. The most subtle of subtleties.


    No wonder the AMG F1 W09 is ranked the best chassis on the grid, Luca thought.


    It was the <ENDURANCE AND RELIABILITY> category that had this 99%, breaking what should have been the Ferrari JRX-97''s flawless streak.


    [Chassis Comparison]


    [Retrieving Data from registered car and car under analysis....]


    [...Data successfully retrieved!]


    [Selected Modes:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B)


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-97) ]


    [POWER & PERFORMANCE:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-97): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 96%???


    [AERODYNAMICS & CHASSIS:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-97): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 93%???


    [HANDLING & DYNAMICS:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-97): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [ENDURANCE & RELIABILITY:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-97): 99% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [TECHNOLOGICAL INTEGRATION:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-97): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%??? ]


    [Review: Ferrari (JRX-92B) is built for podiums, while Ferrari (JRX-97) is built for domination.]


    Luca wondered if the analysts of F1 even noticed this tiny difference when they proclaimed the AMG F1 W09 to be the greatest car on the grid. Though, there were still arguments about that.


    Regardless of which car was considered the best, Luca knew none of them had analytics as precise as his system. So, he wagered that 99% would likely be rounded up to 100% in any other calculative method used by a machine.


    Only a value like 120%, 150%, 200%, 300%¡­ Now we''re talking, Luca mused.


    That kind of gap difference would be solid and pretty much unchallenged.


    And that was exactly where he planned to take his 92B, along with its engine.


    Currently, Rodnick''s engine, the ThunderKat, was an A-level beast built for Explosive Acceleration & Power Delivery, equipped with an Ultra-High RPM Threshold that let it rev higher and extend its speed bursts.


    It also had Power Shifting, allowing it to maintain acceleration even through corners. That was the key reason Rodnick kept pulling away.


    The realization hit Luca that he himself was running a passive engine while Rodnick piloted a war chief.


    The FiveSix only had something tangible in High-Speed Dominance, where it could maintain the same velocity on a straight without wavering.


    This could only be perceived, mayhaps, while running down the straight with a rival. Only then could Luca see how the FiveSix would keep his 92B moving with the same speed or even higher, asphalt after asphalt.


    But beyond that approach, Luca''s own A-level engine merely focused on itself, with features like "Heat Management" and "Longevity."


    Luca sighed. "And the system never mentioned anything about unlocking Engine Features," he said disappointedly. "So I''m stuck with these three alone."


    [31st Lap]


    "...Luca Rennick and Marcellus Rodnick cross the grid for the 31st time tonight in Monaco, trailing behind the pack leaders as the race remains a battle...!"


    "...Rodnick has always been strong, but young Rennick has been relentless. It''s as if he''s anchored both Ferraris together¡ªwherever Rodnick goes, he follows...!"


    "...DAVIDE DIMARCO IS IN THE PITS! CAN HE GET OUT IN TIME BEFORE THE SILVER STALLIONS COME GALLOPING THROUGH..?!"


    **We have a rival in the pits. Let''s capitalize**


    Both Luca and Rodnick received the message, but it was a late one indeed.


    The pit lane intersection was just a stone''s throw from the grid. If they were going to shift their offense and defense in time to push an important rival like DiMarco further down the pack, they needed razor-sharp cerebral adaptability.


    Luca had his own plan to overtake both Rodnick and DiMarco at once using this first sector.


    At the far end of the home straight, moving at 315 km/h, Luca suddenly felt his 92B attempting a refresh cycle.


    "Don''t you dare, mate," he muttered, pushing beyond it.


    In F1 cars, a refresh cycle or reset was a slight dip, a hesitation, or a momentary jerk at top speed before regaining full power.


    This was primarily caused by prolonged max-speed running, like the heated duel between him and Rodnick.


    Secondary causes included fuel pump pressure adjustments, turbocharger boost regulation, ERS recharge delays, and other minor recalibrations within the system.


    In Luca''s case, it was simply the first. But since his engine feature permitted High-speed Dominance, he was able to push beyond that momentary stutter for just a few seconds, according to its (5).


    [High-speed Dominance +3]


    Rodnick, on the other hand, did not possess an engine feature that allowed him to override a refresh cycle.


    And after all that relentless high-speed driving, his engine demanded just a split-second break before surging back to full power.


    Rodnick''s brake lights flashed as fast as lightning¡ªthen vanished¡ªbut Luca saw it.


    Even Rodnick''s car readings displayed a quick drop in speed before a sharp rise to recover.


    Luca''s body tensed with excitement and determination.


    He was going to do it!


    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect) S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing)


    Car <<<¡ª LOCKED IN (Maximum slipstream advantage)


    [Overtake Window: Optimal]


    [DRS deployed]

 Chapter 289 - 289: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 9

    "...LUCA RENNICK SWOOPS PAST RODNICK! WHAT A MOVE...!"


    "...HE TIMED IT TO PERFECTION, DARTING FORWARD JUST WHEN IT MATTERED MOST...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P5, Marcellus Rodnick in P6...!"


    [5th Position]


    **YES, LUCA! YES! That''s P5! You got him!**


    "HAHA! Finally! That was tough, I had to time it just right!"


    **Good job. Good job**


    "...it''s really wonderful to see the lengths a Ferrari can go against another. Brilliant DRS use from Luca. Top five fully earned...!"


    Luca pumped his fist for a moment before gripping back the wheel. He glanced at the mirrors for any sign of immediate vengeance from Rodnick.


    But it seemed Rodnick was calm about the overtake. With a clear head, he knew another window to reclaim the position would open itself.


    Luca would eagerly wait. Now, he was very confident, knowing that he had a chance to win this Monaco Grand Prix even with his 92B.


    Overtaking the second-best car on the grid meant that all other drivers weren''t unapproachable regardless of chassis technology or engine abilities.


    If Luca smartly wielded his own A-level engine and its abilities, he could win podiums just as the system remarked. After all, winning podiums was what mattered toward the final goldware.


    P3¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P4¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡û


    P5¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P6¡ª Marcellus Rodnick¡ý


    Luca was still reflecting on how he shared a list with the top names in formula racing when he remembered that DiMarco had visited the pits and was now leaving the pit lane at the required speed.


    **Davide will be rejoining. Watch for the intersection**


    "...we have seen countless timed rejoins before from Davide DiMarco. After a lightning-fast pit stop, Bueseno Velocit¨¤ lets him roar his Red Bull down the pit lane toward the intersection where Luca Rennick comes galloping by...!"


    "...Rennick surely has the pace. I wonder how well he''ll use it. DiMarco can be quite schemey sometimes, and bold at others..."


    [Trajectory Assessment: Home straight advantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 4th Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 80% throttle; maintain straight trajectory. Anticipate 4th Position''s intersection pressure.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 4th Position). Adjust for slight braking before Turn 1 to regain position.]


    DiMarco remained calm even with Luca''s fiercesome approach that got his car screeching through the night like a diving falcon.


    "...and DiMarco WILL make it back on track before Rennick. He merges in while Rennick moves at full speed...!"


    Immediately as DiMarco merged back on track, he quickly placed his car right in the middle. It was a smart move to defend and cut Luca''s most optimal line.


    "Shit," Luca cussed as he swerved softly to the right, applying some brakes. If DiMarco had a system, he would have surely gotten a point for Straightaway Chopping.


    **Stay composed, Luca. You still have Turn 1. He''s on cold tires. He won''t have grip**


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 180 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    Luca''s heart pounded as he roared down towards Turn 1, his 92B snarling for space. He couldn''t believe he had just engaged with Davide DiMarco, a name he had once believed was out of reach from his competition.


    Now, the same Davide DiMarco, fresh out of the pits, had planted himself right at the center of the track, daring Luca to find a way around.


    [6th Position closing in]


    "Damn Monaco," Luca cursed internally. He had the momentum and the speed, but none of the space thanks to Stellar''s narrowness.


    Rodnick wasn''t far away and was still a problem, so Luca had to take his chance now for P4.


    To do this, he should spare courtesy no time. DiMarco was a veteran, and he knew how to stall an attacker just long enough to regain tire temperature.


    "...LUCA MOVES TO THE LEFT¡ªNO, TO THE RIGHT! HE''S LOOKING FOR A WAY AROUND¡ªBUT DAVIDE DIMARCO HOLDS STRONG...!"


    Bueseno Velocit¨¤''s Team Principal watched closely, searching for any of the warnings his junior team''s Team Principal, Mr. Lugo, had mentioned about young Luca Rennick.


    So far, he hadn''t seen anything concerning. Luca was performing just as brilliantly as even Dreyer in this Monaco Grand Prix. DiMarco was holding up well, and with time, he''d get enough warmth in his tires to fully fend Luca off.


    Luca followed the system''s recommendations, sticking to the inside and dropping his speed at the optimal distance to take the turn.


    He wanted to analyze Davide DiMarco''s Red Bull, but there was no time for that yet as the duel demanded his full attention.


    His inside approach was extremely borderline, so close to the barriers that he could see the faces of the marshals.


    He kept this tight line because his plan was to switch from the inside to the outside of Street 2 using the track''s structure.


    Since the outside lanes were ideal for drifting, he would execute a smooth drift into Turn 3. That would surely be enough to overtake a driver on cold tires with poor grip, no matter how experienced they were.


    DiMarco, forced to defend, twitched his steering to cover Luca''s attack, but¡ª cold tires.


    His Red Bull struggled for grip, the rear momentarily stepping out.


    "...DIMARCO SLIDES! HE''S LOSING CONTROL! CAN HE HOLD IT...?!"


    Luca''s eyes widened as his opponent suddenly slid in front of him.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    He reacted instantly, seizing the moment!


    DiMarco''s tires were like a sled on snow. Losing control, he surrendered the gap he had fought to close against Luca, leaving the Ferrari driver free to power through.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca''s 92B gripped DiMarco''s asphalt with confidence as he sped ahead, casting a glance at the Velocit¨¤ driver, who was furiously communicating with his race engineers.


    Sensing Luca''s gaze, DiMarco looked back. Behind their visors, they locked eyes and a silent mark of rivalry was set for the rest of the season.


    [4th Position]


    "...LUCA RENNICK TAKES P4 IN DIMARCO''S DISMAY...!" S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ".... RODNICK IS BEHIND! THE RED BULL IS SPINNING! THIS IS CONTROL LOSS...!"


    Luca caught the chaos in his side mirror as DiMarco completely lost control and slammed into the cage barriers.


    Thud!


    "...HE''S INTO THE WALL! CRASH AT SECTION 1...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    DiMarco jerked violently in his cockpit before the engine cut, his car finally coming to a rest as Rodnick zipped by into P5.


    P3¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P4¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P5¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P6¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ý


    Luca''s throat tightened at the sight of another driver''s race ending in an instant. Thirty long laps¡ªgone, just like that?


    The crash wasn''t severe enough for a red flag, but it had sent just a few shards of carbon fiber flying across the track.


    **Keep pushing, no yellow yet. No yellow yet. Just keep pushing**


    Luca clenched his jaw, gripping the wheel tighter. He had just forced a critical error from a top driver. The commentary was exploding wildly about it, the Monaco night electric with tension.


    His focus was clouded for a second, but he did remember his plans to drift into Turn 3.


    Even though DiMarco was gone, he could still do it nonetheless. So, Luca sharply tilted his wheel and let his rear do the rest.


    [Calculating host drift...]


    [Successfully calculated]


    Rodnick followed suit, sending plumes of smoke into the cold night air.


    Only when Dreyer claimed P6 and Nystr?m secured P7 did the yellow flags finally come up, officially announcing Davide DiMarco''s failure to finish the race.


    A big name gone.


    [Agility +1]


    [Ding!]


    [All Attributes have reached (30)]


    [New Car Skill Accumulating: 2/3]

 Chapter 290 - 290: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 10

    [40th Lap]


    [Tires are in bad condition, host. Engine temperature is optimal. Brake wear at 60%.]


    [Heat Management +2]


    [Telemetry reports rigid handling. Aerodynamic efficiency indicates slight performance drop. Recommend an immediate pit stop to optimize tires and fuel strategy.]


    "I know. We''re deciding when," Luca replied positively. "And thanks for the Engine Feature EXP."


    40 laps. 40 whole laps on Circuit de l''¨¦toile with its expanded track, and Luca had yet to visit the pits.


    He couldn''t believe how long the tires had lasted on the 92B, especially with the insignificant (+1) addition to his Tire Management attribute earlier in the race.


    Luca doubted it would have been possible with the F2 04, especially considering how tough the driving had been so far.


    This made him wonder how many pit stops Ansel had taken for his F2 04 to remedy Haas'' DNF.


    **Tires are falling off. Grip levels are low. We recommend boxing next lap**


    "Understood. We still stick to the strategy?"


    **Yes. We''ll swap to softs, refill, and push hard for the final stint**


    Luca nodded, even though they couldn''t see him. "Alright."


    He then glanced briefly around the track to assess the race''s progress before shifting his gaze to the leaderboard display on his dashboard.


    P1¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P2¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P3¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P4¡ª Luca Rennick


    P5¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P6¡ª Luis Dreyer ¡û


    It was crazy when one realized that there were a lot of missing names who had walked away from the track tonight.


    Fifteen drivers on the track out of the starting twenty. Historically speaking, this Monaco Grand Prix might make it as one of the most attritional races, and likely the most, as the season opener.


    Since the pack had been thinned, there''d be more hunger and aggression from those who remained. Every position now carried greater weight for each driver, and every maneuver would have higher stakes.


    It was well known that the fewer the competitors, the fiercer the battle.


    Luca feared he might lose the P4 he had so strenuously fought for to Rodnick and the rest when he made his pit.


    But after much thought, he realized that he might inevitably get it back or wouldn''t even lose much in the first place.


    Firstly, Luca remembered he had Pitstop Prodigy at 20 (+3), which could just make him the fastest pitter in all of Formula 1 history.


    Secondly, he was currently driving on hards and would switch to softs as discussed over the radio.


    Other drivers were already on softs and were yet to make their presumed second pit of the night. So, Luca foresaw some openings for himself.


    "...It is a rough battle at the head of the pack as Ailbeart Moireach fights for P2! Antonio Luigi holds on, but it''s looking slim for the Blackstriker...!"


    "...After 40 long laps, Ailbeart now pushes for greater points for Haddock Racing, with his teammate, Derfflinger, half the pack down. Sam, I do think his confidence for P2, or maybe P1, might be because of DiMarco''s leave. What do you say...?"


    "...You are very right, Alex! It boosted not only Ailbeart''s morale but everyone else''s. It''s a delight for rival teams seeing Velocit¨¤ tallying ZERO points in the first round of the season. Absolutely stunning...!"


    After DiMarco''s DNF, Bueseno Velocit¨¤ was slammed with the grim fate of zero points in the race.


    Jimmy Damgaard had already left the track in the opening lap, and now their star, Davide DiMarco. Their fans were now silent, some leaving the stands, and most switching off their TVs.


    It was all Luca Rennick''s fault.


    Even if Dreyer had caused Damgaard''s tire delamination, they all believed Luca was responsible for DiMarco''s loss of control.


    The Italian team, Bueseno Velocit¨¤, who already disdained him, as we know, were not going to let this slide.


    [System Update: Pitlane Entry Detected]


    [Speed Limit: 60 km/h]


    [System''s prediction: 12 sec¡ª15 sec]


    "Calculate distance. Car front and car behind."


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 3 seconds away, host.]


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [5th Position is 2.8 sec away, host.]


    Luca could already see his fate of dropping down the pack again as he entered the pit lane, the fluorescent lights zooming over his chassis.


    **We''re ready**


    First official pit stop as a Jackson Racing driver.


    It was interesting to see how it would unfold with a pit crew as seamless as a perfectly choreographed dance, especially when he had Pitstop Prodigy greater than ever.


    The Jackson Racing crew was already at their positions¡ªmen and women, boys and girls awaiting Luca.


    Once he glided into the box, they all leaned in, and Luca felt the car raise, the bright lights coming from the interior of the garage illuminating the right side of his helmet.


    "Great driving, brother!" Eddy yelled as his Ferrari dropped.


    The Jackson Racing crew clapped for themselves as they watched Luca bullet out of the box and back onto the pit lane.


    2 seconds. Very nice!


    [Retrieving pitstop info...]


    [Service Time: 2.00 seconds]


    [Front Tires: Hard ¡ú Soft]


    [Rear Tires: Hard ¡ú Soft]


    [Wing Adjustment: +0.5¡ã Front Downforce]


    [Downforce +1]


    [Aerodynamics +1]


    Luca was eagerly awaiting a Pitstop Prodigy notification like he always received, but he didn''t get any, meaning his Sync Bar was still at 62.5%.


    Luca reckoned that now Pitstop Prodigy was completed, notifications would rarely come from it.


    "... Marcellus Rodnick in P4...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Rodnick had taken P4, but Luca was very lucky to rejoin the race in P5.


    [System''s prediction: 12 sec¡ª15 sec]


    [Host''s pitlane Entry and Exit: 11.7 sec]


    [Ding!]


    [You have received (1) Catalyst]


    "???"


    Luca was speechless at the generous reward for beating the system''s pit lane prediction. But now, his senses spiked as he perceived a rival''s approach from the home straight.


    [Trajectory Assessment: Pitlane disadvantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 5th Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 60% throttle; maintain intersection apex trajectory. Anticipate 5th Position''s outside pressure.]


    [Risk Factor: High (collision potential with 5th Position). Adjust for slight traction loss at exit to regain position.]


    Luis Dreyer was really pushing his Cosworth PJ2005, moving as fast as a train.


    And since Luca had sensed him even before his team engineers alerted him, he gained a rise in Spatial Awareness for all he had accumulated since the race.


    [Spatial Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]


    The Sync Bar was now at 75%. Great. But Luca had to defend his P4 like his life depended on it.


    **Dreyer approaching** his engineers informed him late. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca cleaved to his system''s recommendations, adjusting his car to weave smoothly into Turn 1. With that, he was able to keep a fierce rival behind him into the street complex.


    How things have turned, Luca thought. Now, he was ahead of Dreyer, defending against him with cold tires and poor grip.


    Of course, Dreyer knew this. That''s why he was so unrelenting, silently threatening to smash into Luca''s rear wing.


    When they reached the first straight, Luca had no doubt he would be overtaken.


    "System. Does Gripper help warm up cold tires faster? Is it part of its function?"


    [Yes, host]


    [Gripper enhances host''s tire adhesion by optimizing surface friction and accelerating thermal buildup. It improves cornering stability and traction, reducing tire slip by 5% up to 30%, allowing for better control in turns and quicker recovery from cold tire conditions.]


    Luca sighed. At (7), he wasn''t sure if it''d make a huge difference, but it was better than nothing.


    Still, to defend against Dreyer and successfully execute Corner Chopping, he needed good grip. So, Luca made a very tough decision.


    He decided to ease off a little. He wasn''t going to just let Dreyer have P4, but he would stop defending.


    Luca didn''t want to end up like DiMarco, who had struggled in this same part of the circuit against poor grip and a hungry rival¡ªhim.


    It''d be an omen if he DNFed in the same spot as DiMarco did. So, Luca calculated Dreyer''s chances of pitting again since he was among those who started on softs.


    And when he did, Luca would take back position with better tire grip!


    However, before Luca began to drop his telemetry data, he noticed a change in the leaderboard that made him INSTANTLY change his mind.


    P2¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ü


    00¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ý


    P4¡ª Marcellus Rodnick

 Chapter 291 - 291: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 11

    "...A DOUBLE BLOW FOR ANTONIO LUIGI! AILBEART MOIREACH SWIPES P2, AND NOW RODNICK SNATCHES P3...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    P2¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ü


    P3¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    00¡ª Antonio Luigi¡ý


    "Wow..."


    The entire circuit erupted as the leaderboard shifted into a new display, showing that Antonio Luigi had just suffered a devastating loss of positions.


    Luca had thought Luigi had only lost P2 to Ailbeart, but it seemed Rodnick had taken advantage of the situation!


    Ailbeart had been charging behind Luigi relentlessly for many laps, and now, into the harbor section, he kept holding onto Luigi, his bitter rival, while Marko Ignatova kept pulling away from the pack, solidifying his lead.


    Eventually, Ailbeart lunged for P2 by diving down the inside of Street Turn 5 and forcing Luigi to the outside.


    It seemed the track structure at the street didn''t favor him, and he had no choice but to concede P2.


    Luigi was flustered and frustrated as Ailbeart''s Renault wedged in front of him. He hated the sight of rivals right before him, especially the very one who had just taken his position.


    But in his moment of frustration, he made a slight throttle miscalculation on the exit of Turn 6 into Turn 7.


    Rodnick eventually pounced on the opportunity, cutting off their gap with Luigi''s slipstream.


    Luigi was late to defend, still frustrated and shaken. Rodnick ultimately made it through.


    The "00" accompanying Luigi''s name on the leaderboard was a result of a sector timing update delay, where race control had termed Antonio Luigi at risk of losing yet another position.


    "...AND JUST LIKE THAT, LUIGI FALLS TO P4! A NIGHTMARE LAP FOR THE ITALIAN...!"


    On the contrary, Luca believed this was a dream come true.


    He stared at Luigi''s Mercedes as if it were some fantasy relic that had found its way into the likes of man. It was beautiful, if Luca would be honest.


    The colors¡ªblack, silver, and gold accents¡ªshould be the best combination on the grid. Luca was envious of Mercedes'' chassis.


    Ever since the starting grid, where he had analyzed Luigi''s car, he never really expected to see it again. Now, it was bearing the number four holographic display, for that matter.


    What marveled Luca the most? Luigi''s drop from P1 to P4 or the fact that this was ANTONIO LUIGI right in front of him?!


    Luca wasn''t sure. Maybe it leaned toward the latter, because he was yet to wrap his head around the fact that he was racing alongside these professional drivers¡ªeven the one who had run into him at Stadhaven.


    It was weird for Luca to remember that morning when he had his cap on, shielding his face from the sun as he stood at the neat track edge in a sharp marshal suit, watching the preseason race unfold.


    These were the same drivers back then?! Luca thought. Wow.


    Luca fully changed his mind, his gaze still fixed on Luigi''s gearbox as he decided.


    No way was he going to ease off for Dreyer now. Luca would be damned to let anything spoil the duel between him and Antonio Luigi that would soon come.


    So he gripped his wheel tighter and sharpened his Gripper skill to the best of his use.


    Eventually, Jackson''s engineers beamed with delight as the telemetry display updated in real-time, showing Luca''s tires gradually reaching optimal temperature.


    Luca could feel the slippery sensation slowly vanishing, progressively replaced by a tougher feel of friction.


    [Front Left: 86¡ãC ¡ú 80¡ãC ?]


    [Front Right: 85¡ãC ¡ú 80¡ãC ?]


    [Rear Left: 84¡ãC ¡ú 75¡ãC ?]


    [Rear Right: 83¡ãC ¡ú 75¡ãC ?]


    [Grip Optimization: 78%]


    Using this 78% Grip, Luca managed to execute a successful Corner Chopping. His Corner Chopping wasn''t successful solely because of his actions, but also because of Dreyer''s relentlessness.


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    "...LUIS DREYER WILL HAVE TO TRY BETTER FOR OUTBACK PERFORMANCE IN ORDER TO GET PAST LUCA RENNICK...!"


    "...Brilliant defending from the young lad as they head down the straight..."


    "Calculate distance. Car front and car behind."


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 2.2 seconds away, host.]


    [Analyzing 6th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [6th Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    [Turn Type: Sweeping Left-Hander] [Angle: 75¡ã] [Braking Point: 80 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 200 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid-corner]


    [Perfect Entry!]


    [Turn Type: Tight Right-Hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 180 km] [Optimal Apex: Inside Curb]


    [Finely Swerved!]


    [Turn Type: Hairpin Left] [Angle: 160¡ã] [Braking Point: 120 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 70 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Late exit]


    [Smooth Hairpin Execution!]


    [Turn Type: Sweeping Right-Hander] [Angle: 60¡ã]


    [Braking Point: 60 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 210 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Outer curb]


    [Textbook Maneuver!]


    [Straightaway ahead]


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 1.8 seconds away, host.]


    [Analyzing 6th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [6th Position is 2.5 sec away, host.]


    The harbor straight again. The spectators in that area cheered for Luca to engage Luigi.


    Luca was truly considering engaging now, but he feared the tunnel sector that was just next. He didn''t want to dogfight with a rival like Luigi in limited visibility, especially with Night Mastery this low.


    Luca knew the lengths of Luigi''s Mercedes chassis, but he was yet to know what the FiammaVeloce was all about.


    [Data on Mercedes-AMG F1 V11 EQ Performance can be retrieved]


    [Retrieving Data...]


    [.... Data Retrieved]


    [The Mercedes-AMG F1 V11 EQ Performance, classified as an A-level engine is specifically designed for elite competitive performance in F1.]


    [[It features a 1.6L V6 twin-turbo hybrid power unit, delivering 1,080 HP and 1,050 Nm (+160) of torque. Equipped with a state-of-the-art MGU-K, capable of deploying an additional 170 kW of energy, it ENSURES SUPERIOR POWER DELIVERY and OPTIMAL ENERGY REGENERATION under intense racing conditions.]


    [The FiammaVeloce embodies the essence of BALANCED PERFORMANCE, offering exceptional straight-line speed, TORQUE DISTRIBUTION and Hybrid Energy storage.]


    From what he could see, Luca could make out a few engine features since he couldn''t access them unless he''d registered the Mercedes itself.


    First of all, it was clear that the FiammaVeloce was all about power and nothing else.


    Luca was certain Torque Distribution was one of these features, where the engine could help direct power and energy to the tires to enhance acceleration and stability.


    For the others, he wasn''t sure. But Energy Regeneration might mean the engine rarely ran out of its dragon breath, meaning Luigi''s car had more explosive power on its own, and when he hit ERS, even worse.


    "I fear not," Luca said. That was the opposite. He had an engine that focused on chilling in winter while Luigi piloted something that could make the lowest tier of S-level.


    [Chicane Ahead]


    [Turn Type: Three-Turn Chicane (Right ¡ú Left ¡ú Right)]


    [Approach Width: 8.0m ¡ú Tightens at Apex: 6.5m ¡ú Widens at Exit: 7.6m]


    After the swimming pool chicane, the road to the tunnel opened, giving more than enough space for two cars. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect)


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing)


    Car <<<¡ª LOCKED IN (Maximum slipstream advantage)


    [Overtake Window: Uncertain]


    "Un... certain. Hmm."


    [DRS deployed]


    Luigi cast one unbothered side-eye to his mirrors as Luca''s rear wings opened to gain speed.


    DRS only lasted a few seconds, so Luca wanted to complete the overtake and head into the tunnel first.


    But just as he glided to the right, moving at 320 km/h (+10 by slipstream) to take Luigi''s right side and then complete the overtake, Luigi''s fingers deftly reached for a button.


    Luigi activated some ERS, unleashing a burst of power from his engine that sent his Mercedes rocketing forward. The sudden acceleration severed Luca''s slipstream advantage like a snapped chain, leaving him grasping at empty air.


    "...Luca Rennick tries with DRS! But Luigi surges out of reach, giving the two some breathing space...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [Overtaking failed]


    Luca''s eyes widened as Luigi''s car vanished into the dark ahead with its taillights.


    His Ferrari was suddenly left alone at the entrance of the tunnel.


    He was left in shock.


    Luca couldn''t believe it. He had just been dusted by a rival?


    **Recover. Recover, you copy? You lost momentum there. Dreyer''s behind**

 Chapter 292 - 292: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 12

    [45th Lap]


    Luca finally completed his Sync Bar after the system rewarded him with another point to Night Mastery Skill in the race twenty-five laps after.


    [Night Mastery +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    Truthfully speaking, Luca didn''t think the last bar of the Sync Bar was filled cinematically, but he still accepted nevertheless. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Now, all he had to do was to focus on finishing the race with all the good ticks he currently had¡ªSync Buff, Soft compounds, and a single pitstop advantage.


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used.]


    45 Laps seemed too early for Sync Buff, Luca thought. And also too late to consider making two Sync Buffs.


    In the Italian Mega Prix last year, he remembered filling his first Sync Bar at the 30th Lap and the other, around the closing 70 laps.


    But here in Monaco, he just completed his Sync Bar at Lap 45, and just 60 laps in total. So this was going to be his only Sync Buff this race, and Luca knew he had to use it wisely.


    Of course, if he''d have to use it now, it might elapse even before Lap 50, and all these savage drivers would swarm him again and eventually reset the leaderboard.


    Luca had to take his Sync Buff''s advantage strategically¡ªlike when they''d be taking their pits or at the last laps.


    But drivers could choose to take their pits at different laps, making it difficult to calculate and predict. And what if the last laps were actually too late to make a difference?


    For instance, Luca was in P6 now. Unfortunately, Dreyer had wasted no time surpassing him with his loss of momentum after that failed overtake on Luigi.


    So, Luca was gazing at a climb from P6 to P3 if he just wanted to make the podium, or the climb from P6 to P1 if he wanted the silverware and all 25 points.


    After much thought, Luca just remembered how far he could go with Sync Buff was no longer a definite prediction.


    Whether he wanted to make the podium or win Monaco itself, it all depended on the system since it drastically nerfed Sync Buff.


    [Determining Sync Buff duration....]


    [Processing: ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ3:00¨ˆ??1:35??? 50%]


    [Processing: ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ?? 80%]


    [Finalizing Sync Buff Time...]


    [...Sync Buff duration determined!]


    [Sync Buff Duration: 4 Minutes, 12 Seconds]


    "4 Minutes, 12 Seconds," Luca repeated after. "This is charitable for a change. Just 48 seconds less than the 5."


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 1.3 seconds away, host.]


    When Dreyer overtook Luca, Luigi had gained a mind-blowing 3-second lead from him. And now, Luca could only imagine how much it was now.


    He hoped his 4 minutes, 12 seconds (252 seconds) would be enough to overturn all the drivers ahead because Luca wasn''t just going for the podium, he was going for the win itself.


    He waited calmly until the drivers on softs would begin to take their second pitstop of the race. That would eventually clear the track and even make the climb easier.


    **Dreyer will box. We have P5 again**


    [46th Lap]


    "...A crucial phase of the race now as the pit window opens for the second round of stops! Luis Dreyer makes his way in, and Luca Rennick INEVITABLY TAKES P5...!"


    The moment Dreyer peeled into the pits, the gap in front of Luca evaporated, and the Ferrari JRX-92B surged forward as if the car itself had been waiting for this exact moment.


    [5th Position]


    "...Luca Rennick in P5!''


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    P4¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P5¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    00¡ª Luis Dreyer ¡ú


    "...Luca''s still on his first pit cycle! That single-stop advantage is playing out beautifully...!"


    **We have a clear road ahead, Luca. Good job**


    Luca now had the direct delta to calculate his and Luigi''s distance.


    The Mercedes wasn''t that far away, so Luca was strongly hopeful. He wanted to engage with Luigi again. This time, not just for an overtake, but to fully... study.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 4 seconds away, host.]


    Luca had learnt one thing from his first encounter with the Mercedes-AMG F1 W09 and the FiammaVeloce powering it.


    He realized if he kept engaging, Luigi would eventually be forced to reveal all his engine''s capabilities.


    Since Luca couldn''t access detailed specs directly, firsthand observation was his best option.


    The sooner he uncovered the full range of his rivals'' engine features, the faster he could adapt by enhancing his own car attributes, refining any of his status categories, and sharpening his skills to counter their strengths.


    If he could decode them early in the season, the rest of the championship would become a game of calculated checkmates in his favor. Each engagement would fuel his upgrades and tighten his grip on the competition.


    [47th Lap]


    **Luca, heads-up¡ªLuigi might be pitting soon. His team''s on standby, and his pace is dipping slightly. Stay sharp**


    **If he boxes, you''ll have clean air. Keep it steady, stick to delta**


    **Things are looking smooth for you right now. Just keep this rhythm, mate**


    Things were indeed running smoothly. Luca owed a great deal to Mr. Berry, who had advised him to qualify in P11 rather than anywhere between P7 and P10.


    At first, it sounded like a risky move, but now it was proving to be a masterstroke.


    P11¡ªand even P12¡ªhad just turned out to be the most advantageous positions on the grid. Luca had a clean path through the race, free from the dirty air of slower midfielders, and the flexibility to execute a one-stop strategy without getting tangled in early and late pit windows.


    He wondered how long it would take before other teams caught onto this qualifying loophole.


    A free pass to lead Luigi in the race, but Luca wondered if the Italian was going to be a very fast pitter.


    It didn''t matter though because he was never going to be that fast. Luca watched as the sleek Mercedes veered into the pitlane, and then he took his ground.


    "...AND ANTONIO LUIGI HEADS INTO THE PITLANE! THE MERCEDES CREW IS READY¡ªBUT LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT THIS! LUCA RENNICK NOW TAKES P4!"


    The crowd exploded as Luca flashed past the pit entry, past Luigi''s peripheral vision.


    "...WHAT A MOVE IN STRATEGY FROM JACKSON RACING! LUCA RENNICK, WHO STARTED FROM ELEVENTH ON THE GRID, NOW FINDS HIMSELF A POSITION AWAY FROM THE TOP THREE...!"


    [4th Position]


    **Attaboy. We are running in formation now**


    "Running in formation" meant both teammates were now aligned in position. Now Luca was at P4 and Rodnick at P3.


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 180 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 3 seconds away, host.]


    Luca decided to use his momentum to boost forward and win the race.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    Luca selected Yes. It was time to claim Monaco.

 Chapter 293 - 293: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 13

    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    Luca selected Yes.


    [System Notice: Host has (1) Catalyst available. Proceed with Sync Buff activation?]


    A sudden realization hit him.


    "Ohhhh!" Luca had completely forgotten about the Catalyst the system had rewarded him earlier for beating its pit stop entry and exit time prediction.


    If the system hadn''t reminded him, the Catalyst would have been wasted since the system had clearly stated that both Catalysts and Wrenches expire upon any Sync Buff activation.


    "Thanks for the reminder," he muttered, quickly considering how best to use it.


    It had been an unexpected reward, and his focus had been locked on filling up the Sync Bar, so he hadn''t given it much thought until now.


    After a moment of consideration, he made his decision.


    "Apply it to Corner Chopping. Let''s push it to (16)¡ªit''s next in line for completion," Luca said.


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 1 Catalysts to Corner Chopping]


    [Corner Chopping: 15 ¡ú 16]


    "Good. Now, let''s proceed."


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 30 ???? 50


    Stamina: 32 ???? 50


    Endurance: 30 ???? 50


    Agility: 30 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 30 ???? 50 ]


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping/Spatial Awareness/ Night Mastery/ Grid Launch/ Slipstream Mastery/ Side-by-Side King/ Slipsense & Rainborne]


    Luca prepared to speak and make his decision, only to pause as the system continued processing.


    [Aerodynamics: 21 ???? 50


    Downforce: 25 ???? 50


    Braking Efficiency: 21 ???? 50


    Handling: 16 ???? 50


    Tire Wear Management: 16 ???? 50 ]


    [Sync Buff is detecting A-level (Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056)...]


    [High-Speed Dominance: 8 ???? 50


    -Heat Management: 7 ???? 50


    -Longevity: 7 ???? 50 ]


    [You have only one Skill so it alone is up for selection]


    [Gripper: 7 ???? 50]


    Luca was taken aback by how much the Sync Buff Activation Grid had expanded. It was noticeably larger, covering more parameters than before.


    He realized something was different the moment the system continued listing stats just as he was about to speak. The changes weren''t subtle. This was a major upgrade!


    Previously, Sync Buff had only enhanced his personal attributes and racing skills, but now, it was affecting the car''s performance and even the engine''s core features.


    This wasn''t something Luca had expected. Curious, he questioned the system, and its response clarified everything:


    [Affirmative. Sync Buff now spans the entire matrix. The feature is designed to temporarily enhance all relevant stats. The current expansion aligns with that purpose since host has Professional Bundle''s features.]


    No matter how the system chose to explain it, in essence, Sync Buff had evolved into something far greater now.


    It was no longer just a personal enhancement but a complete synchronization of man, machine... and engine!


    For the duration of its activation, Luca wouldn''t just be at his peak but the car would be at its peak too. Every single component from front wing to rear wing would function at its absolute best.


    Not to talk about how this would technically change his Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056 to an S-level engine for 4 minutes.


    "Ah, this is incredible!" Luca beamed. "Scratch what I said. Sync Buff was never nerfed, it was just regulated!"


    [Please select three Skills for Sync Buff]


    Luca quickly refocused. This was his first Sync Buff in F1, and every selection mattered. He needed to be smart and make important boosts.


    For his first choice, he selected Night Mastery. The night was only getting darker, the city lights brighter. And with the car enhancements pushing his speed higher, everything could become a blur.


    If his vision wasn''t sharp enough, his own buff could lead him into a crash.


    For his second selection, he chose Side-by-Side King. He predicted that Ignatova and Moireach wouldn''t easily surrender their positions, and in close battles, he needed to dominate duels with 300% efficiency.


    The final choice was a skipper, but Luca eventually picked Slipstream Mastery.


    Though he''d recently completed it at (20), he wanted to push it to (50), ensuring he could latch onto slipstreams faster, build stronger momentum, and use them to gain maximum speed and make overtakes effortless.


    [Successfully Selected!]


    [Night Mastery: 6 ???? 50


    Side-by-Side King: 9 ???? 50


    Slipstream Mastery: 20 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 4 min. 10 sec left for Sync Buff]


    The moment Sync Buff fully activated, the Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056 responded first.


    A blue essence suddenly ignited deep within the engine''s core. It was an explosive pulse that vibrated with energy around the fuel injectors like electrical veins before shooting through the high-pressure fuel pump in a flash.


    The combustion chambers shuddered to the havoc unfolding within that the only energy that pulsed outward was heat.


    However, the engine''s Heat Management at (50) now quickly acted and ensured cooling. But the effects were already being carried out at the innards of the chambers.


    The blue blur moved like an unleashed storm from the power unit to all systems, cycling excess energy at an exponential rate that it caused the car to tremble for a second.


    The tremble wasn''t even an effect, but a process of its own, serving as the connection whereby Luca received the pulse from his gloves whilst he gripped the wheel.


    [49th Lap]


    "...WE ARE IN THE FINAL STRETCH! JUST 11 LAPS REMAIN IN THE MONACO GRAND PRIX...!"


    "...A TESTAMENT TO IGNATOVA''S DOMINANT LEAD, HE VISITS THE PITS AND REJOINS¡ªSTILL IN P1! UNBELIEVABLE...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...BUT ONLY A SECOND AHEAD OF AILBEART MOIREACH NOW! IT''LL BE VERY DIFFICULT FOR HIM TO DEFEND! BUT AT LEAST, HE''S MADE HIS LAST PIT OF THE RACE. IGNATOVA HAS THE ADVANTAGE NOW, BUT HIS LEAD IS CURRENTLY CHALLENGED...!" S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    00¡ª Marko Ignatova ¡û


    P2¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P3¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    Whether it was Marko Ignatova or Ailbeart Moireach leading the race, it didn''t matter anymore to Luca.


    None of their top chassis or powerful engines could square with him now.


    At this moment, his vision in Circuit de l''¨¦toile was as clear as day, and he could even see Ignatova in his Mercedes struggling with cold tires while Ailbeart pestered for an overtake.


    At this stage of overpoweringness, Luca began to fear for his rivals.


    For Rodnick especially, who was going to be his first victim tonight.


    He had already closed the gap with blistering speed, and Rodnick was stunned to receive an arrow alert out of nowhere.


    "...LOOK AT THAT SPEED FROM LUCA RENNICK...!"


    Mr. Marchetti brought out his timer and race tablet analyzer again.

 Chapter 294 - 294: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 14

    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect)


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing)


    Car <<<¡ª LOCKED IN (Maximum slipstream advantage)


    [Overtake Window: Inevitable]


    Luca shifted to the right and joined Rodnick on the harbor straight, Ferrari beside Ferrari.


    Rodnick was stunned.


    Just moments ago, he had been comfortably holding position, fully focused on advancing to P2 while calculating his last pit.


    Suddenly, out of nowhere, Luca¡ªhis teammate¡ªwas right beside him, his Ferrari tearing through the air with an aggressive presence that sent a chill through his spine.


    Rodnick''s steering tightened out of instinct, his foot pressing harder on the throttle to force all breath out of the ThunderKat.


    But no matter how much power he boosted his chassis on the straight, Luca was still beside him, matching and even surpassing his speed with ease!


    "Why the hell is he so fast?!" Rodnick thundered, his heart pounding as his dashboard flashed the overtake warning, his entire JRX-97 technology registering Luca as an ineludible threat.


    "¡­Luca Rennick is ON FIRE! Look at that blistering pace! He''s absolutely STORMING through the field...!"


    With High-Speed Dominance maxed out at (50), Luca''s Ferrari could unleash its full top speed on any straight without any refresh cycle¡ª0.00 seconds of stutter.


    There was no cooldown, no need to ease off the throttle; he could keep the car pinned at maximum velocity for as long as the track allowed!


    Ordinarily, such relentless acceleration would push the car to its thermal limits, forcing the engine and tires to suffer from overheating. But with Heat Management also at (50), those concerns were completely erased!


    With this, Luca''s 92B was technically an unstoppable force.


    There was no speed fade, no loss of efficiency, and no mechanical strain holding it back. It wouldn''t slow down, and it wouldn''t suffer the consequences of prolonged high-speed racing.


    **How are you so fast?!** Rodnick''s voice crackled through the radio, tense and unable to believe.


    But Luca didn''t respond. He had no need to because his driving was answer enough.


    Rodnick was still reeling from the sudden challenge when Luca made the final move to seal the overtake.


    Luca gently tilted to the left, and the high Handling quickly responded, cutting his car ahead of Rodnick in such a seamless manner it seemed his car was gliding rather than driving.


    "...Marcellus Rodnick had NO answer for that! Rennick lined it up, got into the slipstream, and just breezed past like Rodnick was standing still...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!" The spectators roared in unison, their disbelief off the charts as the reigning champion was wasted. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It seemed the Mazerunner had resumed his tricks in F1.


    [3rd Position]


    "...Luca Rennick in P3, Marcellus Rodnick in P4...!"


    P3¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P4¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ý


    **That is.... that is excellent driving, Luca. Simply lovely**


    "...WHAT A MOVE! Luca doesn''t even break a sweat as he takes the position! Top three for the young Italian as he glides past his new teammate...!"


    "...Ladies and gentlemen, if you ever doubted the potential of Luca Rennick, doubt no more¡ªthis is a masterclass in raw speed and precision...!"


    Luca remained focused into Lap 51. With P3 secured, his eyes locked onto Ailbeart Moireach''s Renault, which was still quite far ahead.


    The night sky over Monaco was a canvas of glitter, but to Luca, everything narrowed down to his Ferrari and his preys up ahead.


    Although Sync Buff didn''t directly enhance Luca''s speed or acceleration stats¡ªmeaning it didn''t add a specific boost to the JRX-92B''s top speed of 350 km/h or its 2.5-second acceleration¡ªthe system''s upgrades indirectly elevated the car''s overall performance.


    This was due to how Sync Buff interacted with both Luca''s personal attributes and the car''s engine dynamics.


    For example, reduced drag and improved downforce translated into faster top speeds on straights and more stability when pushing the car beyond its limit.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 3 seconds away, host.]


    [Analyzing Pace Differential...]


    [Host is gaining 0.25 sec per sector]


    [Estimated catch-up time: 6 sectors (2 laps)]


    [Updating Distance...]


    [You are 1.50 sec away, host.]


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 1.5 seconds away, host.]


    "...LUCA RENNICK IS ABSOLUTELY TEARING THROUGH THE FIELD! The gap to Ailbeart Moireach was THREE SECONDS just moments ago, but now it''s down to a SINGLE SECOND AND A HALF...!"


    "...This is ridiculous pace! He''s making up nearly a quarter of a second per sector! That''s the kind of speed gain you''d expect with DRS and full deployment, but Luca''s doing it all on raw pace...!"


    **Luca, you are 1.2 seconds behind Ailbeart. Pace is phenomenal. Keep this up!**


    **Ailbeart is still pushing for P1. He might not defend immediately, but expect resistance soon**


    **Gap to Marko is 2.8 seconds. If you clear Ailbeart, you''ll be in the fight for the lead!**


    "Understood," Luca replied, adding with confidence, "He won''t hold me for long."


    From Haddock Racing''s pit wall, another set of radio waves snaked through the crisp night air of fuel and rubber.


    **Stay focused on Marko, but be ready to defend. Rennick''s on fire**


    "Tch¡­ That bastard''s flying. I see him. He''s not getting past me," Ailbeart Moireach responded unshakably.


    But he was already feeling the pressure, as Luca¡ªnow a bigger problem than his urgent second pit stop¡ªwas creeping up in his mirrors.


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [Speed Boosted!]


    [You are 0.8 seconds away]


    "...LUCA RENNICK HAS ARRIVED...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...Does Ailbeart Moireach keep attacking Marko Ignatova for P1, or does he start defending from the rocket ship behind him...?!"


    Ailbeart chose wisely and began to defend aggressively, letting go of Marko Ignatova, who had just gathered enough warmth for his tires, and focusing on Luca.


    Turns 5, 6, 7, Rodnick watched as his new teammate performed mind-blowing feats.


    Eventually, Luca arrived beside Ailbeart, catching a glimpse of the Scottish driver for the first time in his life.


    "... Alibeart Moireach is throwing EVERYTHING at him, but Luca Rennick is STILL THERE...!"


    **That''s it, Luca! Take it!**


    Ailbeart was stunned. He had forced dozens of challengers into lifting off through that section over the years of being an F1 driver, but Luca wasn''t flinching.


    Immediately both cars were aligned, Side-by-Side King at (50) worked efficiently and effectively, instantly throwing Ailbeart Moireach into a state of concussion as if a flashbang grenade had just gone off in his Renault cockpit.


    The Sync Buff''s Side-by-Side King at (50) meant he could hold position in any wheel-to-wheel battle, no matter how narrow the track. And in Monaco, that was a deadly advantage.


    [Side-by-Side King +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Level-up failed!]


    [Sync Buff is currently being used]


    Luca pounced, swinging wide. Power after power, his FiveSix had no limits, and he launched past Ailbeart before he could recover from that.


    [2nd Position]


    "...AND HE''S THROUGH! LUCA RENNICK IS UP TO P2...!"

 Chapter 295 - 295: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 15

    [Night Mastery +1]


    [High-speed Dominance +2]


    [Gripper +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Level-up failed!]


    [Sync Buff is currently being used]


    [You have 1 min. 15 sec left for Sync Buff]


    P2, a podium spot, was already solidified for Luca the moment Ailbeart Moireach decided to throw in the towel for recovery and visit the pits for his second pit stop of the night.


    P1¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P2¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    00¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ú


    Just as Ailbeart Moireach was making his entry into the pit lane, Rodnick was exiting. He, too, had a late pit stop to attend to if he didn''t want his Ferrari breaking down in the closing laps of the race.


    00¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ú


    00¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡û


    P5¡ª Antonio Luigi


    It was literally a time of position catastrophe for these drivers who had late pit stops, because now, Luigi had the momentum and better grip to overtake¡ªand possibly even challenge Ailbeart Moireach¡ªif the situation allowed it.


    **He''s side-by-side, Marcellus! Hold the inside!**


    **I CAN''T! I''M SLIDING¡ªDAMN IT, DAMN IT!**


    The inevitable happened. Luigi powered past him, cleanly slicing through into P4, leaving Rodnick helplessly watching the back of his car disappear into the distance.


    **F*ING HELL! Are you kidding me?! How the hell did I lose that position?!**


    **Marcellus, you had no grip. Stay composed, we can still fight for position**


    **No, we can''t! It''s gone¡ªmy race is f*ing gone! From podium to P5 in two laps¡ªARE YOU SERIOUS?!**


    **We need you to refocus. Ailbeart is rejoining. Defend, or it''s P6**


    **OH, FOR¡ª!** The radio cut out on Luca''s part as Rodnick slammed his steering wheel in frustration.


    P4¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    P5¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ý


    The radio exchange brought a slight smile to Luca''s face. It was amusing, but deep down, he genuinely hoped Rodnick could climb higher in the standings in time, maybe even reach P3 before the race was over and get more points.


    But P1 was surely his¡ªLuca''s.


    Right now, he was locked onto Marko Ignatova, just a heartbeat away from striking distance.


    His Heat Management at (50) was working so efficiently that it began to subtly affect Ignatova''s Mercedes as well, cooling it down by mere decimal percentages!


    It wasn''t much though, but in a high-stakes race like this, every tiny factor could make a difference.


    "...Into the tunnel they go¡ªRennick, Ignatova! Two of the greatest mobile forces in Formula One, Ferrari versus Mercedes, a modern gladiatorial battle under the night lights of Monaco...!"


    "...Luca Rennick, closing in like a predator on its prey, relentless, unstoppable! Marko Ignatova has led half of this race after his teammate, but now, with just a handful of laps to go, he finds himself with a problem¡ªa Ferrari problem¡ªa Luca Rennick problem..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Marko Ignatova wanted to complain about Luca''s ridiculous speed, but he knew it would serve him no good. He had to keep all his focus on defending.


    Yet, with the tunnel as wide as a playground, Luca utilized his slipstream and joined him side by side.


    Ignatova himself had no slipstream to boost his speed, and they were just meters away from the next turn, where he hoped he could at least weave to confuse Luca.


    But it seemed he was the one under confusion?! How could that be? The defender? The...


    Marko Ignatova gradually grew short of his thoughts as Luca''s Side-by-Side King pounded so hard that it shattered his rhythm entirely.


    His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, but his control was slipping. His heart drummed as he realized all his defensive maneuvers were nullified.


    No matter how much throttle he gave, no matter how perfectly he positioned himself, Luca wouldn''t budge.


    The Ferrari JRX-92B stuck beside him like an unshakable phantom, neither falling back nor surging ahead, as Luca taunted him to his delight.


    Luca stole his racing line options, disrupted his focus, and boxed him into the most uncomfortable position possible.


    The turn beyond the tunnel was approaching, and Ignatova wasn''t in control of the duel anymore¡ªif he ever was.


    "¡­Marko Ignatova is struggling! He''s lost command of the inside line, and Rennick is still there! This might just make him the most lethal driver on the grid..!"


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 180 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    The same street where Luca recalled Hank Rice''s car suspension.


    Once again, he was on the left side of the track, and the struggling Ignatova was on the right, already set to take the inside lane.


    So Luca reckoned he''d have to perform the same feat he did 40+ laps ago to fully seal his climb to the top of the leaderboard.


    Now, it didn''t even seem like he had a rival beside him. Now, the whole track felt empty, daring him to do as he pleased, for he had a car under a buff that could go to any length, and he himself was so buffed he could control those lengths.


    Immortal was the word.


    A sharp right-hander like this demanded his drift, so Luca took it.


    Handling so smooth, braking so perfect, downforce exceptional, and high aerodynamics had him resemble a jet as he swooped past Marko Ignatova of Squadra Corse as a rug of white smoke.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [Calculating host drift exit....]


    [Successfully calculated!]


    "...UNBELIEVABLE...!"


    "...HE''S DONE IT AGAIN! HE''S DONE IT AGAIN...!!"


    The crowd was on its feet screaming, roaring, losing their minds! Some of them couldn''t even remember when Formula racing had ever been this tense, this electrifying, this absolutely insane!


    "...LUCA RENNICK TAKES THE LEAD IN MONTE CARLO...!!!"


    "...IT''S OFFICIAL! IT''S DONE! LUCA RENNICK IS P1...!!!"


    **P1, Luca! P1! You are leading the race!!**


    "....Luca Rennick in P1, Marko Ignatova in P2....!"


    P1¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P2¡ª Marko Ignatova ¡ý


    "HAHAHAHA! WOOOOOH!!" Luca celebrated, loud and ecstatic.


    "...HE CAME FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE GRID¡ªAND NOW HE SITS AT THE VERY TOP...!!"


    "...WHAT A MASTERCLASS FROM RENNICK...!"


    **Marko¡­ mate¡­ what happened?**


    Ignatova''s heavy breathing simply meant his frustration held no bounds. "¡­F*ck. I¡ªHe just¡ª" he cussed and slammed his hand on the wheel.


    **It''s okay, it''s okay! We''ll get him back! Keep your head down, focus on the next sector!**


    "That wasn''t normal. That wasn''t normal at all."


    [1st Position]


    [You have 15 seconds left for Sync Buff]


    "Right on time!"


    The cheers were still a frenzy even after the overtake, Jackson Racing fans the loudest as Luca was on the path to win his debut formula 1 race.


    [Sync Buff has elapsed!]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 0%]


    The return to normalcy of Luca and his engine was just as dramatic as the activation since this was literally the reverse.


    Imagine a mighty machine exhaling after an intense burst of exertion more than it was built for.


    The blue essence began to dissipate, retracting from the combustion chambers, the high-pressure fuel pump, and the fuel injectors. The electrical veins that were pulsing before dimmed and gradually faded away.


    The combustion chambers, which had been force-fed excess energy, suddenly found themselves deprived of that overwhelming boost.


    The Ferrari trembled again, not from a surge, but from the recalibration. Power delivery evened out. Heat Management leveled back to its now (10) and the seamless connection between Luca and the car no longer had that razor-sharp instinct.


    "Well, it was worth the god-mode trial," he said with a laugh.


    Luca then lifted his gaze from his dashboard to take in the sight of the wonderful city. It was beautiful, a perfect night to host his first F1 win.


    Ignatova was three seconds behind now, with the system predicting the gap would only grow. Luca could hardly believe that P1 was his, and so were the 25 points to kick off the season.


    Meanwhile, the podium was shifting as a certain driver ensured he would stand in victory tonight, no matter what.


    Dropping down from P1 must have been humiliating for Antonio Luigi. That was why he had been driving toxically against those just leaving the pits.


    P3¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    00¡ª Ailbeart Moireach¡ý


    It wasn''t over for Ailbeart as he found himself under attack again, from Rodnick this time, who had exited the pits earlier than he did.


    Rodnick was determined to try and get P3 by all means in these closing laps, pushing with his heart pounding with grief.


    Moireach saw him coming in his mirrors as a blur of shadow slicing through the track. But he had barely even begun to defend when Rodnick made his move.


    With a perfectly timed rotation, Rodnick slipped ahead, planting his car firmly in front before Moireach could reclaim the line. By the time they accelerated out of the corner, the damage was done.


    P4¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P5¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ý


    Moireach slammed his fist against the wheel in frustration. Twice in just a handful of laps. First Luca, second Luigi, now Rodnick. His race had gone from podium contention to barely clinging onto a top-five finish!


    How?! S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Damn it!" Moireach shouted over the radio. "This is a disaster! I had them¡ªI HAD them!"


    P1¡ª Luca Rennick


    P2¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P3¡ª Antonio Luigi


    00¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P5¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ý


    "...These are the closing laps of sheer unpredictability and absolute madness! The fight for every position is relentless...!"


    "...Luca Rennick holds P1 into Lap 58, but his teammate is down in P4! Squadra Corse claims P2 and P3! The season has just begun, but we''ve already seen our championship contenders...!"


    [59th Lap]


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 280 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 110 bpm


    -Operational Status: 60% (Fair)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 354000m


    -Time: 1hr 20 min. ]

 Chapter 296 - 296: S2 Monaco Grand Prix. 16

    [1ST POSITION]


    "...Under the lights of a city that never sleeps, in the soghts of thousands who have witnessed history unfold, under the sheer weight of expectation...LUCA RENNICK HAS DONE IT! HE WINS THE SEASON OPENER IN SPECTACULAR FASHION...!"


    The checkered flag waved proudly, a triumphant banner signaling the end of a breathtaking race as the remaining drivers thundered across the finish line.


    By then, Luca had already unstrapped himself, climbed out of his cockpit, and banged the body of his Ferrari 92B twice as a gesture to acknowledge his own victory, his own steed.


    After that, he lifted his arms high into the air and clenched his fists in victory. Fireworks followed and exploded across the night sky, painting it with different colors to celebrate the end of the season opener.


    All rivals eyed Luca''s back as they zipped past the grid, sealing their positions.


    "...6th Place, Luis Dreyer...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...7th Place, Elias Nystr?m...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...8th Place, Mark Derfflinger...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...9th Place, Desmond Lloyd...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...10th Place, James Lockwood...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...What a drive! What an ABSOLUTE MASTERCLASS from Luca Rennick! From strategy to overtakes, from relentless pressure to that phenomenal final charge¡ªhe has conquered this track in a way no one expected...!"


    "...debut Formula 1 race for the young Italian, first formula 1 win for the young Italian! A marvelous way to introduce yourself to the competition...!"


    "... Welcome to Formula 1, Luca Rennick...!"


    [Congratulations, host. You have made a podium]


    [You have been reward with (2) Wrenches]


    Luca was busy waving to the fans high on the buildings that he didn''t pay attention to the system''s gift. It eventually faded away, and he continued with his celebrations.


    Jackson Racing''s crew was filled with happiness, Mr. Matthews jumping into Mr. Berry''s arms. The engineers and strategists were even more ecstatic than the pit crew, who only cheered and clapped as they walked out of the pitlane and onto the track to celebrate with Luca.


    Rodnick brought his Ferrari to a stop in the cool-down lane. He let his hands rest on the wheel longer than necessary before he exhaled sharply.


    "...4th Place, Marcellus Rodnick..." the announcement had rang then.


    P4. P4 wasn''t a bad finish¡ªnot by any means¡ªbut it wasn''t what he wanted. Not when a podium had been within reach. Most especially, not when he was the reigning champion and had to defend his title.


    Rodnick had watched when Luca wasted no time climbing out of his car, banged the side of his 92B twice, before throwing his fists into the air in triumph.


    He shook his head and unbuckled his harness before pulling himself out of the cockpit. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he unlatched his helmet and removed his balaclava as well.


    The night air was very cold making it feel like it was an entirely different world from inside the heat of his car.


    Jackson Racing crew had already spilled themselves onto the track to celebrate Luca. So Rodnick moved himself to join them, running his hand through his damp hair.


    ------


    Final Race Standings ¨C Monaco Grand Prix


    ???? Top 10 Finishers:


    P1 ¨C Luca Rennick ???????? (Jackson Racing) ???? +25pts (+1 Fastest Lap)


    P2 ¨C Marko Ignatova ???????? (Squadra Corse) +18pts


    P3 ¨C Antonio Luigi ???????? (Squadra Corse) +15pts


    P4 ¨C Marcellus Rodnick ???????? (Jackson Racing) +12pts


    P5 ¨C Ailbeart Moireach ???????? (Haddock Racing) +10pts


    P6 ¨C Luis Dreyer ???????? (Outback Performance) +8pts


    P7 ¨C Elias Nystr?m ???????? (Nordvind Racing) +6pts


    P8 ¨C Mark Derfflinger ???????? (Haddock Racing) +4pts


    P9 ¨C Desmond Lloyd ???????? (Velox Hispania) +2pts


    P10 ¨C James Lockwood ???????? (Nordvind Racing) +1pt


    ?Remaining Finishers:


    P11 ¨C Alejandro Vasquez ???????? (Velox Hispania)


    P12 ¨C Ansel Hahn ???????? (Trampos Racing)


    P13 ¨C Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­ ???????? (Alpine Swiss F1)


    P14 ¨C Javier Montez ???????? (Outback Performance)


    P15 ¨C J¨®zef Konarski ???????? (Alpine Swiss F1)


    ? DNF (Did Not Finish):


    P16 ¨C Hank Rice ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix) ¨C Car Suspension


    P17 ¨C Davide DiMarco ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤) ¨C Crash


    P18 ¨C Jimmy Damgaard ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤) ¨C Tire Delamination


    P19 ¨C Mikhail Petrov ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix) ¨C Tire Delamination


    P20 ¨C Erik Haas ???????? (Trampos Racing) ¨C Crash


    -----


    The first round of the season was officially over, and Jackson Racing had taken an early lead in the Constructors'' Standings.


    With Luca securing 26 points for his win and fastest lap, and Rodnick adding 12 points from his P4 finish, the team totaled 38 points which was five points ahead of Squadra Corse''s 33 points which they earned through Marko Ignatova and Antonio Luigi finishing P2 and P3.


    In the Drivers'' Standings, Luca now led the pack, surpassing Marko Ignatova. A rookie, on his first-ever F1 race, topping the championship? Unreal. But after the performance he displayed tonight, no one could call it undeserved.


    When Luca received his trophy that night, he was momentarily lost in the loud cheers of the spectators and the jubilant Jackson Racing crew.


    Below the podium, his 92B¡ªhis partner in battle¡ªstood still, as if looking up at him, bearing the marks of a hard-fought victory. Beside him, Luigi and Ignatova stood on the lower steps, frowning and trying to keep their expressions neutral.


    Luca believed this was just the first of many podiums to come. This realization was a bit too revealing. He now understood he was now an F1 driver and this was his profession. His job, work, occupation, whatever you might call it.


    Every day, every week, every month, all he would think about is the goddamn track. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He pumped his fist into the air once more before reaching for his champagne.


    Luigi and Ignatova wasted no time leaving the podium, unwilling to celebrate with a rival, the man who had denied them victory.


    Luca had no one to spray the champagne on, so he directed his target at his Ferrari, refusing to let the bitterness of his rivals ruin the ecstasy of his victory.


    "...A rookie, in his very first Formula 1 race, has defied the odds, dominated the grid, and crossed the line as the season opener''s victor...!"


    "...Luca Rennick has arrived in the world of motorsport, and if tonight is anything to go by, he''s here to stay...!"


    The podium celebration was just like any other podium celebration in F1.


    The victor stood in glory, while the others were wandering around their garages, eyeing him.

 Chapter 297 - 297: Slow Mornings

    Luca and the team remained in Monaco for three to five days after race night before returning to London.


    He packed his things carefully, making sure the trophy was securely tucked in. The team had departed at different times over the past few days, but Luca had arranged his return for the 21st.


    Rolling his bags behind him, he stepped out of the hotel room and into the hallway. The moment he stepped out, Manuela was already catching up, practically jogging in her heels to match his pace.


    "The jet will be ready in three hours," she began rapidly, barely taking a breath as she flipped through her phone. "The car''s down. I have to ask now if you plan to make a stop you haven''t informed me about. Now will be the best time to squeeze it or them in."


    Luca kept walking. "Nope. Straight to London."


    Manuela was trying her best to walk just as fast as Luca. She had expected this pace, but not when he came exploding out of the hotel room.


    "Can you please slow down so I can do a headcount on your bags? We arrived with four¡ªI only see three now, Mr. Luca."


    "Relax," Luca said, slowing down just a bit as they turned the corner toward the elevator. "Everything''s here. The fourth bag was mostly empty, so I folded it into this bigger one," he said, lifting the black box briefly.


    They stopped in front of the elevator, and Manuela, still scanning his luggage, seemed unconvinced. Luca sighed. "What about your stuff?"


    "In the car already," she replied.


    The elevator dinged, and Luca motioned for her to step in first before following. As they descended, Manuela prepared to continue rattling off his schedule when she noticed him unzip his duffel bag.


    "You need a mask?" she asked instinctively.


    Luca nodded.


    Without missing a second, she pulled a fresh black mask from her purse¡ªjust the color and texture he liked¡ªand handed it over. Once he put it on, she resumed.


    "You''ll have no rest this week. Jackson is insisting on a team celebration this Sunday¡ªa gathering to mark Ferrari''s victory."


    "That sounds great," Luca said. "That''s actually a break in itself."


    "But the next day is another gathering. A serious one this time," Manuela continued. "Drills and sessions on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday."


    Luca nodded, absorbing the information. Rest wasn''t going to be an option. The calendar was packed, and every team had to make similar adjustments.


    The Chinese Grand Prix was next, scheduled for early April, and they were already in late March. That left only a few weeks¡ªmaybe even just days¡ªto prepare.


    To be sure, Luca interrupted Manuela while she spoke. "What''s the exact date and details for the next race, the Chinese Grand Prix?"


    Chinese Grand Prix


    Location: Shanghai, China


    Date: Apr. 10


    Track: Shanghai International Circuit


    April 10 was less than two weeks away. Way too close.


    "Also, the prelude dinner¡ª"


    Luca frowned, then scoffed with a smirk. "Already?"


    "Yes, already!" Manuela huffed. "It always takes place after the first race of the season... I think."


    "Where''s it being held? And why is it so late? Everyone''s leaving, no one''s going to attend."


    Manuela shrugged. "I don''t know why. Tight schedules, maybe. But it''s right here in Monaco, the day after tomorrow."


    "Then we''re not attending," Luca said flatly, keeping his chin up as the elevator doors slid open.


    "Really?"


    "Yes."


    "But as the Grand Prix winner¡ª"


    "The FIA and the press can fuck themselves on this one," Luca cut in as they stepped out of the elevator. His sharp swear words nearly made Manuela burst into laughter right at the elevator threshold.


    He continued, "After five DNFs and a rookie winning the season opener. How do you think the atmosphere at that dinner will be?"


    Manuela recovered from her laughter, stepping in beside Luca as they walked down the ramp. To their right side, there was a stunning garden of the hotel. It was green as green could be, and almost surreal in its beauty.


    "Not good, I think," she answered.


    Luca nodded, reaffirming that they wouldn''t be attending the prelude dinner.


    They stepped down from the ramp and onto the hotel''s premises, waving brief goodbyes to the staff who waved back. The breeze quickly caught their hair as they moved toward the car. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Manuela hastened her speech, knowing Luca would eventually shut himself off the moment he got into any transport, lost in his music.


    She could already see his MP3 player and earpiece clutched tightly in his hand, as if someone had tried to snatch them away from him before.


    After her final rundown, she ended with what she considered the most delightful update.


    "What else¡ªoh! The team''s throwing a small celebration when we get back. Nothing huge, just a ''Yay, Luca didn''t crash'' gathering," she said.


    Luca chuckled as they reached the car.


    "It was Ms. Sara who titled it," Manuela added, watching as he peered into the driver''s seat through the tinted window.


    Mr. Vance slowly lowered the window and gave a nod. "Luca."


    "Mr. Vance," Luca replied.


    "Champion?"


    "Let''s go," Luca said as they got into the car.


    Mr. Vance smoothly rolled the car out of the hotel''s premises. The inside of the car was silent and was freezing cold due to the AC.


    In no time, the car quickly settled into the rhythm of actual driving, and Luca shifted.


    Manuela sighed. "And there he goes."


    Luca had already unfolded his earpiece, and he was already tapping at his MP3 like a ritual. "Actually," he said, breaking the silence just before putting on his earpiece. "Let''s make a stop."


    "Wait, what? You said we were going straight to London."


    "I changed my mind."


    Vance glanced at him briefly through the rearview mirror. "Where to?"


    Luca stretched his arms, exhaling. "Harbour Road. I need to pick up something."


    Harbour Road was a well-known district that was home to well-known luxurious buildings, firms and establishments including the Le Grand Palais from last year, where he vividly recalled buying a PlayStation with Ansel.


    Manuela raised a brow. "Pick up what?"


    Luca glanced at her once, dismissing the question. He then relaxed and tuned into his music.


    Surely, it wasn''t nice to travel outside the country and don''t get gifts and return empty-handed without getting anything for his mother and his girlfriend still in the UK.

 Chapter 298 - 298: Slow Mornings. 2

    They successfully landed at London Heathrow Airport with the Hawthorne jet and disembarked smoothly. The team had arranged for a swift exit, avoiding any unnecessary interactions.


    The ride back to his villa was long, and Luca could already feel the exhaustion creeping in, his body finally understanding the weight of the past few days. He leaned into the seat, watching the city of London blur past in streaks of motion.


    When they arrived, Luca grabbed his bags and made for the door. The door had motion-sensor lights and cameras, so he was barely three feet away when the door unlocked with a soft beep.


    Luca was fine with Manuela and Vance staying for an hour or two for some rest before they leave. So, he took his belongings and moved to his room.


    Evening arrived quickly or maybe it just felt that way because he had slept throughout the day and for the rest, lying on his bed, reminiscing about the past and present.


    Around early 5PM, Luca left the house and got into his Jaguar. He drove off from the villa and into town, where he stopped at a very elegant bakery and bought a succulent chocolate cake which he planned to give his mother.


    After making the purchase, he carefully carried the cake to the car. The rich aroma quickly filled the space as he placed it in the backseat.


    Next to it sat a silk scarf from one of Harbor Road''s high-end boutiques, neatly wrapped in a signature black box. It was the gift he had picked up for his mom in Monaco.


    Satisfied, Luca shut the car door and pulled out of the lot, heading toward Clapham.


    A five-minute drive, weaving out of the sight of road safety got Luca there. The neighborhood was quiet, the streetlights standing lonely, watching as his car rolled along.


    Eventually, he reached the house and was delighted to see Mrs. Rennick outside, seated on the porch steps.


    The moment she spotted the Jaguar, her sleepy eyes vanished. She pulled herself up to her feet and rushed to the car.


    Luca parked the car smoothly by the curb. He hadn''t even shifted the gear into park when Mrs. Rennick reached for the door.


    Her impatience was very funny as she was already tugging at the handle before he even had a chance to unlock it and step out.


    Luca closed the door and hugged her warmly. "It''s good to see you too, Mom," he said.


    Mrs. Rennick swatted his shoulder. "Come on, let me look at you properly."


    After a thorough "inspection for bruises and cuts from the race," as she called it, Luca reached into the car and retrieved the gifts.


    Mrs. Rennick gratefully accepted them, leading the way inside as she recounted how she had held off eating because she wanted them to have dinner together.


    Lamb and potatoes. The kind of meal Luca could never get anywhere else. Not even the workers at his villa were this food-intelligent. He was glad he had arrived with an empty stomach for the house was filled with the rich aroma of the roast.


    Luca had promised himself to have dinner or breakfast with his mother whenever he could.


    With his own place at the Villa and a schedule that rarely left him in one city for long, these moments weren''t frequent, but he made sure they happened.


    Mrs. Rennick was on the road to old age, and more than ever, she needed company. With Sophia away at school, the house was quieter than it had ever been.


    It was clear in the way she spoke, Luca could see it. She kept filling any bit of silence with small details about her day, like extremely minute things that didn''t really need mentioning.


    At some point, it became too difficult, too sad for Luca to watch and listen. So, he quickly suggested dessert.


    -----------


    [SYSTEM ONLINE]


    [Host should begin his Daily Routine]


    It was a quick daily routine for Luca. He got up early, stretched, and headed straight for his usual cold shower.


    A gym session was non-negotiable. After drinking some water, he made his way to the villa''s gym. The gym was nearly twice the size of the one in his Berlin house.


    The gym had transparent sliding windows that doubled as doors, offering a stunning view of the breathtaking scenery beyond the property.


    Everything inside and outside the villa was always spotless. The workers ensured the place remained immaculate, vanishing from sight before 6 AM as if they had never been there.


    Luca appreciated this arrangement because it suited him ensuring his mornings were his own, uninterrupted.


    Before starting his workout, he briefly considered heading outside for a jog, running as far as the greenery stretched. But the sky was thick with clouds, the morning full and heavy.


    He opted to stay indoors, as usual.


    That kind of run¡ªout in the open, feeling like the main character¡ªcould wait for another day.


    After his workout, Luca left the gym and headed back to his room for a refreshing bath before making his way to the kitchen for breakfast.


    But as he moved through the villa, he heard shuffling sounds inside his own house.


    Luca frowned. The workers should have been long gone by now. With curiosity and slight caution, he followed the noise to the main lounging room.


    There, seated casually on the sofas, scrolling through their phones as if they lived there, were Sara and Mallow.


    Luca was dumbfounded. He tapped his foot restlessly against the marble floor. "I think I''m going to limit security access to just myself," he said.


    "Oh!!! Luca!" Mallow beamed, jumping to his feet. He scurried past Sara and threw himself at Luca, wrapping him in a tight hug.


    Luca remained unimpressed as Mallow gripped his shoulders.


    "And the road to becoming F1 Champion begins!" Mallow proclaimed. "Look at you."


    Luca glanced at the wall clock. "It''s two minutes past seven. How long have you two been here?"


    "Fifteen minutes, probably," Sara answered. "Mal kept calling your phone, but I told him you''re never available at this time of day. So we made ourselves comfortable until you were."


    Luca exhaled, walking over to another sofa. He sat down and reached for a drink that had been left nearby, pouring himself a glass. "What''s so urgent?"


    "Digital presence of Luca Rennick," Sara answered, opening her laptop. "Media accounts. The FIA requires you to set up a full-fledged driver profile across all listed social media platforms. Official and important. You can''t just be some ghost with no online presence." S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca sighed. "That''s what''s urgent?"


    "When else would you have time, mm? Manuela told me your schedule is packed. Beijing is just around the corner."


    "It''s Shanghai, not Beijing," Luca corrected, taking a sip. "And what''s there to think about? My name''s Luca Rennick, I''m 19, and I drive for the Silver Stallions."


    Sara shook her head in disapproval, then turned the laptop to face him. The screen displayed a social media platform called Twitt, open to the profile creation page. There were far more fields to fill than just his name, age and team.

 Chapter 299 - 299: Concluding March

    At the end of it all, Luca was able to create some accounts that were deemed important for a driver''s profile beyond his actual Driver Profile.


    Sara helped him set up the Twitt account for quick updates, race reflections, and interactions with fans. Then there was another platform, InstaSnap, high-quality images, race day moments that were captured, and a few personal life photos.


    FN served as a broader outreach platform, covering official team announcements, sponsor shoutouts, and FIA-mandated updates.


    Lastly, he made a StreamView channel, though he doubted he''d use it much. Luca learned it was mostly for posting short clips, race recaps, and sponsor-related content for a driver''s account. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The handling of these accounts would be Vance''s responsibility since he was PR and Media Manager, simply Luca''s representation and to the public.


    At the end of it all, Luca was a bit delighted that they actually got to open all these accounts. It gave him some awareness of social media, how it worked, and its advantages.


    Mallow saw Luca''s awe and took it upon himself to give some advice since social media was relatively new to Luca. He ended up telling Luca that he really wouldn''t like to have anything to do with these platforms but to take them professionally and officially.


    "Aye, sir. This is just the novelty charm, I guess," Luca said, heeding the advice.


    After that, Sara and Mallow had breakfast with Luca. And once they left, Luca got ready to leave for a driving lesson today.


    Sometimes, he feared that the Driving School Instructor would scold him for his inconsistency in attendance if he weren''t a Formula driver.


    But realizing it, his inconsistency was actually because he was a Formula driver in the first place!


    Vance, his new coach bus, arrived and took him all across the face of London to the other end, where the school was located.


    The instructor was glad to see Luca again, and so they resumed from where they had stopped. Vance moved into the building to wait. He was served a cup of coffee and a plate of pastries.


    After about two hours of driving around and adhering to instructions, Luca completed the day''s activities and scored an impressive mark.


    He was given another bulletin containing details of the next session''s activities. These bulletins were meant for him to study, but Luca already had a cupboard where he tossed them, unread.


    Luca and Vance waved the school goodbye and left, heading to the headquarters after a brief stop at a caf¨¦.


    When they arrived, the entrance was decked out with a banner celebrating 37 points from the first race of the season. A crowd of fans had gathered outside, waving flags and holding up signs with Luca''s name and race number on them.


    Luca was surprised that Jackson Racing had allowed a few lucky fans inside to engage with the team. As soon as he and Vance pulled into the lot, all eyes turned to the car, assessing the occupants.


    Luca sighed. He knew what was coming, so he got ready. Even Vance chuckled as he cut the engine, watching the fans slowly inch closer with hesitation.


    "I think the team let them in for a reason," Mr. Vance said, briefly raising his hands and cocking his head with a smile. "I guess you''re alone, buddy."


    Luca took a deep breath, opened his door, and stepped out. The moment he revealed himself¡ªwhether fully or just halfway¡ªthe fans who had been approaching cautiously suddenly surged forward.


    "LUCA!!!"


    Dealing with fans was one thing, but dealing with fans that had unrestricted access was another level of trouble.


    Before Luca could even make any progress, he had to calm everyone down from their eerie enthusiasm. Two girls had already latched onto him from both sides, encouraging others to reach for him too.


    "Oh my God, he''s actually here!"


    One fan practically shoved a diecast model of his 92B into his hands, another thrust a notebook forward, and a third was already snapping selfies, without even asking.


    Others, unable to push into the small crowd, simply bounced up and down in excitement, their feet full of tension and their hands itching to grab Luca.


    Luca was engulfed, trapped in a whirlwind. But he managed to raise his hand up, trying to signal for some calm.


    "Alright, alright¡ªone at a time," he said, his eyes lifting up from the chaos around him to take in the sight of the headquarters'' premises.


    Far ahead, Mr. Matthews and Mr. Palmer, with a few others he recognized, were standing by a building watching him struggle with the fans.


    Luca knew he had to speak with Mr. Palmer and the entire management board after his P1 finish last week. So, this little fandom harassment was stalling this meeting.


    "Bro, can you follow me on InstaSnap? I made an edit of you!"


    ...Bro?


    It seemed the fans wouldn''t budge at all, treating Luca as if he were not a human being but a priceless relic, meant to be caressed and adored.


    Luca wanted to retreat back into the car, but it wasn''t possible at this point.


    Mr. Palmer saw how arduous it had become for Luca to even breathe, and so, he ordered security to intervene, making it clear that the fans were violating the little privilege given to them.


    Luca sighed with relief when security gently ushered the fans back, allowing him to sign a few autographs and take some pictures just the way it was supposed to be.


    One girl, teary-eyed, could barely hold her phone straight as she took a selfie with him.


    "I can''t believe this," she whispered. "I was at the race last weekend. You were amazing!"


    "Thanks," Luca replied, giving a small nod before moving along.


    It was a relief escaping the throng, but he suspected it wouldn''t be the last because they were still on the premises.


    Luca walked toward Mr. Palmer and Mr. Matthews. When he arrived, he saluted fiercely.


    "So you survived?" Mr. Palmer joked.


    "Barely, sir," Luca said, adjusting his jacket. "Did we really have to let fans inside?"


    "They won us 37 points of excitement. Let them enjoy."


    Luca looked Mr. Matthews'' way and bowed his head curtly. "Gaffer?"


    "How have the past days been?" Mr. Matthews asked Luca, and Luca responded positively.


    "Come, we''re all waiting at the top floor," Mr. Palmer said, guiding Luca. "The crowd here might get weary before the full team is here to celebrate. Don''t worry."


    ----


    ---


    A/N: Thanks for 100+ Golden Tickets and 2000+ Privilege Unlocks!

 Chapter 300 - 300: Concluding March. 2

    [SYSTEM ONLINE]


    According to the tight schedule Manuela had mentioned earlier, drills and sessions were set to kick off just the following day.


    The Chinese Grand Prix was just around the corner, a Grand Prix that had never been held in six years. A track that had not been navigated for half a decade in the name of Formula 1 would host the second round of the season.


    Every team member was required to be present for the next three days of core drills. Luca was pretty certain this same rigorous arrangement was currently taking place in every other team.


    In Luca''s opinion, the second race of the season would have just the same amount of pressure and skirmish as the first race of the season, if not more.


    He was already at the headquarters, very early at 12 PM to begin the day''s schedule and include more if the case might be.


    For today, Jackson Racing made it clear that there was no rubber burning but calorie burning, meaning that the drills for the drivers wouldn''t include being behind the wheel but at the gym and equipment rooms.


    Luca sighed. He was really expecting some high-end training maneuvers to be taught, some formations to be learnt, strategies to be mastered, and tactics to be attuned to.


    But when he heard what the day had in store for everyone, he practically beamed with excitement.


    Instead of formations, strategies, and wheel-to-wheel simulations, they''d be thrusting their bodies to great lengths all in the name of racing.


    The team had mapped out an excruciating endurance and strength program, including neck resistance exercises, core stability drills, reaction-time tests, etc. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca found himself standing and waiting in the enormous gym and equipment room where all kinds of machines and equipment were located.


    The ceiling was high and literally unreachable, bearing bright LED panels. The light from these panels was warm and sterile and, from their great height, perfectly illuminated the rows of top-tier training equipment seated before Luca.


    He stood wordlessly, in a Jackson Racing gym t-shirt and shorts, watching some crew members prepare the machines for good use.


    These machines were very sophisticated and complicated, some of which Luca had never operated before in his life, having only driven for a poorer team.


    So he only spoke when he had a question about their physical appearance, and the crew members would answer, describing and explaining.


    Luca nodded and took a deep breath. He also nodded to the three other Jackson Racing drivers¡ªhe was yet to even strike a meaningful conversation with¡ªwaltzing into the room, the air thick with the scent of disinfectant.


    Luca turned to the mirrors that entirely covered one side of the room, serving as the wall itself.


    He checked his form¡ªhis thighs, calves, and biceps¡ªbefore giving a nod of approval.


    He began to wonder how fervent training like this would further affect his body or maybe his Attributes stats. Perhaps, these excruciating exercises were rugged enough to push Attribute points that were now very difficult to attain.


    Luca was just waiting for the crew to be done with the setup. He already had the program, and the system had analyzed and reiterated it.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [System is analyzing and retrieving training program issued to host.]


    [Neck Harness Training (Neck & Shoulder Strength) analyzed!]


    [Cable Woodchoppers (Core Strength) analyzed!]


    [Wrist Roll(Forearm & Grip Strength) analyzed!]


    [Ding!]


    [Successfully Retrieved!]


    "Alrite, all set for you, Luca. Take your time and hit it hard."


    "Thank you," Luca replied.


    [EXERCISE: NECK HARNESS TRAINING]


    [EQUIPMENT: NECK HARNESS / WEIGHT STACK MACHINE]


    [Host is required to securely fasten the neck harness and attach it to the weight stack. Controlled head movements in different directions¡ªforward, backward, and lateral¡ªwill be performed to build neck strength and endurance, crucial for resisting high G-forces during races.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of 12 reps per direction, focusing on steady movements and maintaining proper alignment to prevent unnecessary strain on the cervical spine.]


    "Let''s get you strapped in tight," the same crew member said, not taking his leave yet. "You do it yourself, it slips mid-rep."


    "Sure," Luca said as he kept reading the system''s info.


    He sat on the soft stool provided by the machine itself while the crew member helped wrap his head with the thick padded straps, ensuring the harness was a snug fit before securing the weight attachment.


    Luca immediately felt the pull of the attached weight. It was firm and manageable for him, but he wondered how it''d be for an average driver.


    Luca exhaled and braced himself to begin. As the system just described, he was supposed to move his head in a controlled, measured manner in different directions, yet always opposite to the machine''s pull.


    So, Luca leaned subtly into the resistance before pulling his head back in the opposite direction. Instantly, the veins in his neck bulged, and he clenched his teeth.


    Ahhhhhhh yessss! Luca mused excitedly. Finally! PAIN!


    For a very long time now, he had been longing for something that''d actually demand some physical exertion since his Attributes had been making things much easier.


    Now, it seemed this weight stack machine was just the thing!


    The first rep sent deep strains through his neck, a sharp reminder of just how much strength was needed to resist G-forces in the cockpit.


    "That''s it. Keep it smooth. No jerking," the crew member encouraged.


    Luca grunted in response, powering through another rep. The harness dragged his head down again, but he resisted, forcing his muscles to hold.


    Luca''s eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw clenched as he powered through the peak of the exercise. His neck burned like hell, every fiber screaming in protest as he fought against the relentless pull of the harness.


    But something felt¡­ off. A presence and a shift in the atmosphere of a serious F1 gym.


    He squinted one eye open mid-rep just to see a crew member standing in front of him with a phone in hand, the flashlight on.


    Videoing him!


    Luca''s concentration shattered. His head wobbled under the weight as he let out a half-choked breath of disbelief.


    "Are you¡ªseriously?!"


    Everyone in the gym laughed, even the other drivers. Even Luca, despite his burning muscles and moment of betrayal, couldn''t help but chuckle.


    [EXERCISE: CABLE WOODCHOPPERS]


    [EQUIPMENT: CABLE MACHINE WITH HANDLE ATTACHMENT]


    [Host is required to stand sideways to the cable machine, gripping the handle with both hands. With feet shoulder-width apart and a slight bend in the knees, host will engage the core and rotate the torso diagonally, pulling the handle across the body in a controlled chopping motion. This movement mimics the rotational forces experienced during high-speed turns and enhances core stability for better control in the cockpit.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of 12 reps per side, focusing on a strong, controlled pull and smooth return to starting position to maximize core engagement and minimize strain on the lower back.]


    After an amusing neck exercise, it was time for core. Cable woodchoppers weren''t an alien exercise to Luca. He had done them before using the cable machine he owned.


    So, moving like an experienced athlete, he grabbed the handle and adjusted the weight stack before stepping into position to begin.


    Mr. Matthews made an entrance once to assess his drivers, giving corrections and motivating words where needed.


    [Good job. Moving on to the next]


    [EXERCISE: WRIST ROLLING TRAINING]


    [EQUIPMENT: WRIST ROLLER MACHINE / CABLE WEIGHT STACK]


    [Host is required to grip the wrist roller bar, attached to a weight stack via a cable, and roll it upwards and downwards in a controlled motion. This strengthens the forearm muscles and grip endurance, crucial for maintaining firm control over the steering wheel during long, high-intensity races.]


    [This will be done for 3 sets of rolling the weight up and down once per set, focusing on controlled movements to maximize muscle activation and prevent excessive strain on the wrists.]


    Before Luca began the next drill, the crew member who had recorded his neck harness training mentioned he was going to upload the video and tag Luca.


    Luca laughed and gave the go-ahead, quietly watching the funny video load onto the web.

 Chapter 301 - 301: Wonderful Shanghai, China

    "...Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Shanghai. The local time is 3:42 PM, and the temperature is 18 degrees Celsius. Please ensure you have all your belongings before disembarking..."


    Luca and his personal team touched down in the great city of Shanghai, one of the most populous countries in the world¡ªChina.


    As private jet passengers, arrangements had been made to conduct their immigration and customs away from the main terminals, utilizing the FBO''s exclusive services. This ensured a swift and seamless process, free from the usual congestion of a commercial arrival.


    Luca stepped out of the Hawthorne 3 with sunglasses on, shielding his eyes from the overcast sky. Manuela emerged a second later, and Vance showed himself last, adjusting his earpiece.


    "...Passengers arriving on private flights, please proceed through the VIP clearance area. Your assigned concierge will guide you to customs and immigration services...."


    The concierge arrived moments later, dressed in a red-and-white uniform, religiously Chinese. He approached them with a nod of respect and led them to the FBO.


    Luca got his documents signed swiftly, his luggage checked without issue, and was informed that a private car was waiting just outside the executive lounge.


    Luca expressed his thanks and moved just that way with his team, Dino and Chico bouncing protectively behind.


    "You know, I was expecting them to address us in Mandarin, and I''d have to use a translator," Luca said to Manuela as they settled into their ride. "Sadly, no Ching Chong Ching, just English."


    "Mr. Luca!" Manuela snapped, giving him a sharp look. "This is an international airport. Of course, they accommodate travelers in a language they understand. English is the global standard, after all."


    "Understood," Luca replied, then leaned back, thinking aloud. "But I hope they still speak their own language natively. It''d be cool to hear Mandarin in person rather than just in movies. Hmm¡­ Hey, do you think I can see Jackie Chan?"


    Manuela sighed deeply. "Maybe. If he likes Formula 1. But I don''t think he even lives in China anymore."


    "Damn it," Luca muttered, genuinely disappointed. "Would''ve loved for him to teach me some Mandarin."


    Pulling out his phone, he tapped the screen and turned it toward Manuela, pointing at the name of the team''s facility for the second round of the season.


    "Can you pronounce this?" he asked with a very wide smirk.


    Manuela squinted at the screen, her lips pressing together as she attempted to sound it out. "Xi¨¢ngshu¨« Ji¨¡h¨¢ng Q¨ªch¨¥ J¨¬n¨¦ng P¨ªngg¨± Zh¨­ngx¨©n¡­?"


    Luca burst into laughter. "Yeah, sure, let''s go with that."


    The SUV drove out of the FBO driveway into the city of Shanghai. This was Luca''s first time in China¡ªor in any country with an Asian background¡ªso his focus remained fixed outside the window.


    Having listened to all the playlists in his MP3, his ears were tired, but his eyes were not. Glued to the city they were, as he marveled at the modern architecture, partially obscured by a thin layer of mist in the distance.


    1.3 billion people in one goddamn country. A nation this vast had to be a machine¡ªan unstoppable force. Luca wondered about the rate of poverty in its communities, knowing that such a massive population would inevitably bring economic disparity.


    Yet, he also remembered that China had one of the strongest economies in the world, if not the best. The density of life here must be overwhelmingly staggering.


    True to the country''s populous nature, the streets and roads were filled with motion, movement, work, and bustle. It was as if everyone was grinding toward a greater goal, far more coded than even the Jackson Racing team crew.


    Fine cars, motorbikes, and buses weaved seamlessly through traffic like a designed pattern, an intended harmony. Pedestrians in sharp business attire moved with the synchronized efficiency of a metropolis that never slowed down.


    And now, after six years, Formula 1 was back here.


    Luca recalled the Grands Prix that had been hosted in China. The majority of them had been night races, making him wonder if there''d be a second night race in a row.


    He had yet to carefully check the details of the race, the schedule so tight and fast that he hadn''t found the time. So, he didn''t know if this one would be under the lights or not.


    Regardless of the sky color, the scale of the Grand Prix was going to be massive. It would be a spectacle on the world stage. Spectators would pour in by the hundreds of thousands. The race would be treated like an art¡ªa monumental rarity, which it was¡ªand the entire weekend would be colossal.


    Judging by the way China operated, Luca knew this would be a special stop on the calendar. A country with over a billion people, most of whom were locked in the relentless rhythm of work and progress, didn''t often have the chance to pause for something as electrifying as this.


    So, when an event like this approached, the people would set aside their usual rat-race existence, trading boardrooms, assembly lines, and packed metro stations for the roar of engines and the pulse of raw speed.


    Billboards already bore the official ad cover for the second round, with Luca being the most displayed driver due to his win in Monaco.


    Their ride pulled up at the entrance of the Imperial Azure Grand Hotel. Luca had already made early reservations in the hotel, so they knew he was arriving.


    Two doormen in sharp uniforms were even waiting. They smoothly opened the door for Luca and his team.


    "Mask?" Manuel offered Luca a black mask and he accepted.


    "Thanks," he said, putting it on.


    Luca and his team stepped out. The way they moved, all dressed in black except for Luca in a white shirt, actually oppressed everyone else. Luca knew it was just because of Dino and Chico''s imposing heights.


    "Welcome, Mr. Luca," the doormen said, leading the way.


    Luca''s gaze swept the premises of the enormous hotel. There was a centrepiece in the driveway, a newly installed fountain to help boost the hype of the upcoming race.


    It was an F1 car fountain, sculpted from obsidian-like stone and frozen in a state of blurry dynamic motion. There were water jets mimicking the aerodynamic flow of the car slicing through the air. And most importantly, the sculptors made sure it was brandless and teamless; just an F1 car.


    Luca imagined how it would look like at night. He would stroll out of his room just to make sure he get the sight.


    Since there were lights beneath the fountain, it would give the impression of a ghostly, possessed machine streaking through a mist.


    "Now that''s some hype," Luca murmured, admiring the artistry as he entered the hotel.


    Check-in was swift. The staff had clearly been trained to handle high-profile guests, and within minutes, Luca had his key card in hand. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Penthouse suite," Mr. Vance noted as they entered the private elevator. "Hawthorne spared no expense."

 Chapter 302 - 302: Wonderful Shanghai, China. 2

    Luca only had one day of recreation before calling to duty at the Xi¨¢ngshu¨« Ji¨¡h¨¢ng... Facility with the rest of the team.


    Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop¡ªa proverb Luca knew not of its origin but fully adhered to. He believed that sometimes, relaxing before work and important events would help one become more productive.


    So, that evening, he set out with Vance into the heart of Shanghai to experience the pulse of the city before the storm of the Grand Prix weekend and everything that might follow.


    Luca and Mr. Vance''s first destination, as suggested by the tourist guide bulletin, was Lujiazui, a financial district in Pudong, dominated by towers and a single mall.


    When visiting the place, Luca understood why it was suggested to tourists as the first stop. It was because the district had the most banners and advertisements for the Chinese Grand Prix. They must''ve assumed the majority of tourists at this time were flying in for the race, so this should be their ideal first stop.


    Luca smiled delightedly with satisfaction, his hands on his hips as he stared at himself on these bills and posters. Finally, he could see Chinese text, and a couple just passed by, speaking religiously in Mandarin about something of importance, no doubt. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    After Lujiazui, Nanjing Road was the next stop. Luca had one more in mind, a location that featured more of Chinese culture than just modernity, but it seemed Nanjing Road fielded the rest of the day.


    It was Shanghai''s most famous shopping street, stretching for miles and packed with massive LED billboards, high-end stores, and a sea of people. In other words, a Chinese version of Times Square in New York.


    When Luca and Vance arrived, it was already getting late, and the popular street transitioned into its true beauty. Neon lights and the bustling crowd were always going to be a dazzling spectacle, and Shanghai had it all.


    LED billboards flashed the Grand Prix advertisement in a more eye-catching manner than the banners in Lujiazui. The wide pedestrian-only street was crowded with tourists and native citizens alike, strolling, shopping, or simply taking in the atmosphere like Luca did.


    On both sides of the wide street, luxurious boutiques lined up and stretched to infinity. Luca found himself entranced by the way the glass windows of these boutiques reflected the uncoordinated combo of neon lights.


    Mr. Vance had to snap Luca out of his daze a couple of times. Then he suggested they patronize the street vendors who were calling out to all the passersby for some snacks.


    Immediately after Vance mentioned it, Luca fished out the aroma of hot, steamy Chinese noodles! How splendid!


    He immensely appreciated Vance''s suggestion and moved into the crowd, weaving his way toward the stalls. The closer he got, the stronger the scent of sizzling spices, broth, and freshly cooked noodles became. His stomach rumbled in approval.


    He and Vance arrived at a modest-looking stall where a middle-aged Chinese woman stood behind a large pot of steaming noodles. She was short and stocky, and her apron was stained from a long day''s work.


    Luca greeted her with a charming smile when his unmasked face appeared before the woman. The golden light bulbs in the stall were starkly different from the neon lights out in the streets, creating a strange harmonious contrast.


    "Hey there. Can I get a bowl?"


    The woman lifted her gaze and blinked with surprise. She hesitated before offering a polite but uncertain smile. "Ah¡­ hello¡­ uh¡­ noodle?" She gestured toward the pot with her ladle.


    "Yes, noodle," Luca confirmed, pointing at it eagerly with a watery mouth.


    She let out a small, relieved laugh and nodded rapidly. "Yes! Yes! Spicy? Little spicy? No spicy?"


    Luca chuckled. "Spicy. Give us the real experience."


    Vance''s brows furrowed as he watched Luca lift two fingers, indicating he would like two bowls for him and his friend behind.


    Vance carefully leaned in. "Us? Spicy?"


    "You don''t like Chinese noodles? They''re great!"


    "I do. But I''ll pass today, thanks," Vance said and reclaimed his stance.


    Luca sighed and turned back to the woman, changing his order back to a single bowl.


    As the woman served, she couldn''t help but stare at Luca, wondering where she might have seen him before. An aging lady like her, uninterested in motorsport or any sport for that matter, would definitely not recognize the very face that was being broadcasted on the LED billboards now.


    She tilted her head. "You... from where?" she asked sweetly as she scooped the noodles.


    Luca considered for a second, realizing she might not be asking about his nationality but where he had just traveled from.


    "England. UK," he said, pointing back over his shoulder, as if indicating a distant place.


    The woman''s eyes brightened. "Ah! Y¨©nggu¨®!" she repeated excitedly. "London? Big city?"


    "Yeah, big city," he repeated in a low tone, salivating at the sight of the noodles.


    The woman set the bowl down carefully and leaned forward a bit. "Why... China? What... you do?"


    Before Luca could respond, something¡ªor rather, someone¡ªwas emerging from the interior of the stall where their accessories must be stored.


    An older man revealed himself, and Luca presumed him to be the woman''s husband. The age just seemed right, his face a rumple, and his size just so.


    The man wiped his hands on a cloth as he glanced between Luca and his wife with curiosity. "Who is this?" he asked his wife in Mandarin.


    The woman turned to him and responded in Mandarin, waving toward the noodles. "A foreigner. He''s from the UK, wants spicy noodles," she said.


    The old man grunted at Luca and Vance before turning his back to head to another task when he suddenly froze. Realization had never struck this old man like this before, causing even his wife to panic.


    "Husband? What''s wrong?" she asked, still speaking Mandarin.


    Luca was all smiles. He had no idea what had just been said, but he was enjoying hearing Chinese up close. With a big smile, he looked at the man, who was now muttering something under his breath before pointing at him.


    Luca wanted to ask if there was a problem, but before he could speak, the man''s finger moved away from him and then pointed at the billboard, where a massive image of himself, dressed in his race suit and helmet, was displayed in a loop.


    Oh... I see, Luca thought.


    The wife turned and gasped. She then looked back at Luca with that disbelief that often looked highly exaggerated by Asians.


    "You... you!" she stammered, pointing at him, then at the screen. "You... big driver?!"


    Luca wasn''t going to deny it, so he nodded proudly. "Do big drivers get extra noodles?"


    The woman clapped her hands together, delighted, while the old man was still in shock. He had bet on Luca for the Monaco Grand Prix and made a huge gain. And now, the same Luca was patronizing his stall.


    "Ah! Famous!" the woman said excitedly. "You... you race car? Big race?"


    "Yes," Luca nodded. "Formula One."


    The man nudged his wife knowingly. "This is that one! That race driver!" he exclaimed in Mandarin, making her realize that Luca had, in some way, contributed to their living.


    The woman practically beamed at Luca, clearly proud that he, of all famous people, had stopped by her stall.


    "I give! More noodle! More noodle!" she insisted, scooping extra into his bowl.


    Luca looked at Vance as he grabbed some chopsticks. "Now it''s free. Will you eat?"

 Chapter 303 - 303: Pre-Chinese Grand Prix

    Chinese Grand Prix


    Location: Shanghai, China


    Date: Apr. 10


    Time: 4 PM


    Track: Shanghai International Circuit


    Track Length: 5.5 km


    Total Laps: 56


    Track Type: Permanent road course


    Lap Record: Silvio Maldonado 1:30.482


    The Chinese Grand Prix used to be a great highlight in the F1 calendar back then. But as the years passed and the sport grew more modern, costly, and exorbitant, China made it clear that they were not really ready for the spiking growth.


    At that time, the economy faced fluctuations, so the cost of maintaining the event, particularly with the evolving technological demands of modern F1, became too expensive for the organizers to sustain long-term.


    But now, it seemed there was a recovery of key markets, or China themselves had realized that the Grand Prix was gold on its own and that they wouldn''t miss out on an economic-boosting event.


    So the Chinese Grand Prix was reintroduced, offering the FIA an opportunity to establish a permanent presence in Asia alongside other potential options like Japan, Malaysia, and Indonesia


    The best thing about this race event was that the circuit was one of the most beautiful in the world. Imagine a large-scale facility like an F1 circuit located in China, built and designed in the way known for China''s metropolises. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Its seating capacity wasn''t entirely large like the Spanish circuit, Mandalora, and the Italian circuit, Serpeggiare, but it still featured an impressive 84,000-plus seating capacity that surrounded the entire track without a break or a sector without grandstands.


    Luca wanted an entire day to Track Walk and admire the place, but there certainly was no time, and the team agreed they''d do it in a jiffy on qualifying day.


    The track had four straights and sixteen corners¡ªrelatively average and alright for a standard F1 track.


    However, when someone considers the sixteen turns and the overall 5.5 km length of the track, they might presume it disproportionate.


    This was all because of the back straight, the last straight of Sector 3. It was one of the longest straights ever in F1, eating up almost 25% of the track''s entire 5.5 km length.


    Luca imagined his Sync Buffed JRX-92B running down that straight with an unrelenting tenacity that had never been seen.


    So while it might take others¡ªwith DRS open¡ªthirteen to fourteen seconds to barrel down that lengthy straight, it might take a Sync Buffed Luca and his car just about seven to eight seconds or even less, depending on his stats.


    Luca was going to eye this Straight 4 and exploit it to his advantage multiple times for the win. Ever since he won the Monaco Grand Prix, he had developed a subtle confidence, now knowing that 1st Place wasn''t actually unattainable in F1.


    PROVISIONAL CONSTRUCTORS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (ALL 10)


    Position | Team | Points


    --------------------------------------


    1. | Jackson Racing | 37


    2. | Squadra Corse | 33


    3. | Haddock Racing | 14


    4. | Outback Perf. | 8


    5. | Nordvind Racing | 7


    6. | Velox Hispania | 2


    7. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ | 0


    8. | Iberia Grand Prix | 0


    9. | Trampos Racing | 0


    10. | Alpine Swiss F1 | 0


    Jackson Racing and Squadra Corse had already pasted themselves as the favorites for the championship, distancing the rest of the grid.


    Haddock Racing sat in third with 14 points, while Outback Performance (8 points) and Nordvind Racing (7 points) rounded out the top five heading into the next race.


    Velox Hispania managed to get on the board with 2 points, but the bottom four teams¡ªBueseno Velocit¨¤, Iberia Grand Prix, Trampos Racing, and Alpine Swiss F1¡ªwere yet to score.


    It was still early in the season, yet gaps were already forming. Not to mention, there were 19 races left to course.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5)


    Position | Team | Points


    ------------------------------------------


    1. | Luca Rennick | 25 (+1)


    2. | Marko Ignatova | 18


    3. | Antonio Luigi | 15


    4. | Marcellus Rodnick | 12


    5. | Ailbeart Moireach | 10


    During training today, Mr. Matthews made sure he had a one-on-one conversation with Luca concerning the Drivers'' Championship Standings.


    He wasn''t interested in discussing the usual race strategies or technical adjustments, nor was he there to praise Luca for his early-season success. Instead, Mr. Matthews wanted to talk about something far more pressing, something not uncommon in F1''s toxic atmosphere.


    "What''s the word¡­?" Mr. Matthews pondered. "Resentment. Yes."


    Luca wasn''t just leading the championship; he was a rookie leading the championship. That alone made him a problem for the grid.


    It would be an insult¡ªa disruption of order¡ªto the experienced drivers we all know on the grid to see him successful in his first goddamn F1 season.


    Some might start viewing him as an opportunist who got lucky, others as an arrogant upstart who needed to be put in his place. Either way, he was now a target. Not just a P1 target, but a Luca Rennick target.


    Mr. Matthews feared Luca had attracted his own enmity very early in his career, and his biggest challenge wouldn''t be winning races but surviving the storm that came with success.


    Luca wanted to assure Mr. Matthews that he was just overreaching, that things weren''t as hostile as he made them seem. After all, this was only the second round of the season.


    He tried to make his Team Principal understand that what he feared was just the usual competitive friction that came with Formula racing and its fierce drivers.


    Mr. Matthews admired Luca''s ignorance and innocence on this crucial matter. He knew such naivety never lasted long in Formula 1, and Luca would be the one to grow into awareness.


    As a Team Principal, he could already sense the nuanced unhappiness from his star driver, Marcellus, who didn''t seem too pleased with his P4 finish in Monaco when he had to defend his title as a 2x F1 World Champion.


    Not to mention Di Renzo, who had humbly voiced a complaint, saying he respected the team''s choice of fielding Luca on track, but as a young driver with a career to pursue, he wanted to be put behind the wheel soon.


    It was a sport of desensitized and remorseless ambition, where personal gain took precedence over team growth.


    "Depending on your performance on Sunday, we''ll determine if you or Renzo will be on the grid in the US," Mr. Matthews said, tapping Luca on the back. "You''re driving well. Keep it up."


    Mr. Matthews'' words resonated in Luca''s mind. The realization that his driving streak could be cut was disappointing, but Luca swallowed it and bowed his head quickly.

 Chapter 304 - 304: Second Round Qualifier

    Qualifying Day. Thursday.


    Red¡ªRed¡ªRed¡ªRed¡ªRed


    Green¡ªGreen¡ªGreen¡ªGreen¡ªGreen


    The pitlane was announced free, unrestricted, and the track open to chase the fastest lap for Q1.


    Mechanics stood motionless for a second, watching their machines roll onto the Shanghai circuit before hurrying back inside to the telemetry screens.


    Elias Nystr?m was one of the drivers to roll out of their garages first. The Nordvind Racing engineers and mechanics didn''t even have enough time to step away before his black, rigid rear tires spat heat into their faces.


    Nystr?m liked to be the first out, just like DiMarco did too. Both of them set out fiercely, as if they planned to use the 5.5 km track for a duel of their own.


    Luca took notice of a few fresh faces for the second round of the season. A few teams had made certain changes, knowing fully well that drivers who participated in the qualifying session must be the same drivers starting on race day.


    Some strategy adjustments here and there, some tactics learned and adopted, definitely brought about changes¡ªor substitutions, rather.


    For example, 58 seconds into Q1, Luca could see Haddock Racing preparing a driver to leave the garage.


    He was already in the Renault cockpit, his visor a reflective surface and his helmet as round as the globe. Of course, Luca was not able to recognize him if not for race control and their diligent systematization.


    7. Denko Rutherford¡ª NO TIME SET


    Incredible! Luca had completely forgotten Denko Rutherford existed as a Formula 1 driver. Now he remembered when Mr. Fisher mentioned he''d gone to Haddock Racing.


    Luca then leaned into a crew member and asked him about Denko''s progress and success rate in Haddock Racing.


    "He''s been... alright, I guess," the crew member replied. "Not exactly lighting up the board, but he''s getting the Renault around."


    "How often do they drive him?"


    "Not much compared to Ailbeart, but he conflicts with Mark Derfflinger. He did have a few decent showings, nothing spectacular. Mostly hovering around the midfield, sometimes just outside the points. Consistent, but not a standout," the crew member explained with a shrug. "Guess we''ll see what he can do today and on Sunday."


    Nodding, Luca also frowned. In a nutshell, Denko''s career was stuck in limbo. It wasn''t yet a complete failure, but it was damn far away from being termed remarkable and even good.


    The crew member even mentioned he had never won a race, never even finished in the top five for that matter.


    Luca wished he could infiltrate Denko''s mind and read his entire thoughts on the matter. Most importantly, he wondered how he felt about Trampos, his ex-team, being in F1 now, currently sending Ansel onto the track.


    10. Ansel Hahn¡ª NO TIME SET


    **Luca, you''re going out in one minute. Get ready**


    A crew member rushed to his side with his helmet, and Luca took it without a word. Another crew member literally reached for his face, pulling the balaclava down into place beneath the collar of his race suit.


    Then Luca slipped on the helmet, and they helped him fasten it securely.


    The Jackson Racing-decorated garage immediately stretched and dimmed, as if he were looking through a car''s windshield while driving at dawn.


    Before Luca turned to his Ferrari, he caught a glimpse of Rodnick passing by into another room in the garage, sniffing as if he had a cold.


    Luca wondered how Rodnick was such a good driver when he always seemed so nonchalant about the races. Maybe that was just his style. Luca was looking forward to picking up a few things from other drivers to add to his own pre-race preparations.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Ferrari (JRX-92B)]


    **Just a reminder on the procedures: Keep required modes for your out lap to build up temps**


    "Understood," Luca replied. He was going out one minute before Rodnick.


    **Alright, let''s go**


    "Rolling!"


    The Jackson Racing crew let go of Luca''s 92B as the machine jolted forward into the pitlane. The sterile lighting of the garage faded away, and the natural lighting of the sky¡ªa very bright afternoon¡ªopened up broadly as Luca engaged the pit limiter.


    Shanghai International Circuit had a unique pit lane design, almost like a tunnel made of blue trampoline. The blue color, intensified by the mild sunlight, cast a harsh hue over the pit lane, bathing everything in its tone.


    So just for a second after Luca emerged into daylight did he sneak under that shade, his Ferrari appearing even more fearsome to rival garages as he rolled by.


    "..Luca Rennick will be joining now...!"


    **Pit exit clear. No traffic behind. You''re good to push on warm-up**


    "Copy," Luca acknowledged, weaving gently to bring heat into the tires. The tunnel had just spat him out into daylight again, and the hum of the engine deepened as he neared the exit.


    16 Turns and 4 Straights.


    [Turn type: Long, tightening right-hander] [Angle: 270¡ã] [Braking Point: 50-75 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 260 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid-to-late curb]


    A fresh track for Luca, meaning he would face some unfamiliar challenges navigating the tightness of Sector 1.


    From the aerial footage, Turn 1 and Turn 2 formed a backward C, leading into the tight arc of Turn 3. Afterward, the track eased smoothly into the gentler Turn 4, which opened onto the first straight.


    In the end, Sector 1 simply looked like a crooked number 2, drawn by a kindergartener with an extra-long baseline.


    [Turn type: Tight right-hander (continuation of Turn 1)] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: N/A (carrying speed from Turn 1)] [Recommended Entry Speed: 150 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 130 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    [Turn type: Sweeping left-hander] [Angle: 70¡ã] [Braking Point: 50 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 160 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    [Straightaway ahead!]


    [You are picking up speed]


    Air pressed against the Ferrari''s marvelous bodywork once Luca picked up acceleration. Since he wasn''t on his flying lap and was simply building up heat and momentum, he decided to waver his focus a bit.


    The grandstands were empty and silent. There were just very few people, not substantial enough to be called a crowd.


    The track smelt fresh and new, the sky vast and endless with a warm sun planted right in the middle. It oozed a golden glow, but the golden glow naturally spread out and lost its hue to just a simple soft breeze that fluttered the F1 banners.


    Luca flexed his fingers on the wheel, his eyes narrowing toward the upcoming Turn 5 and the driver that was navigating it.


    Sector 2 of the circuit was the easiest. After the first straight, Turn 5''s sweeper barely even made a difference and the track still looked a bit straight regardless but gently tilted toward Turn 6 which was one of the sharpest hairpins in the world.


    It made Sector 2 look like a nose and the curve of the upper lip for Turn 7.


    Turn 8, Turn 9 and Turn 10 were average turns of racing standard and so was the next 400m Straightaway, the second of the track''s.


    Then came turn 11, giving a clear 90¡ã view of some skyscrapers far away. Before Luca took on the turn, he glanced at the leaderboard to know who had set the fastest lap so far.


    1. Rice ? 1:32.238 (+0.000)


    2. Luigi ? (+0.427) S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    3. Lockwood ? (+0.883)


    Luca could feel the sheer determination behind Hank Rice as he topped Q1. After a DNF in the last race, Rice would do anything to secure strong points in China.


    [Turn type: Medium-speed right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 80 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 170 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    [Turn type: Sweeping Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: Custom (Light)] [Recommended Entry Speed: 210 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid-to-late curb]


    [Turn type: Long, sweeping right-hander onto back straight] [Angle: 180¡ã] [Braking Point: None] [Recommended Entry Speed: 250+ km/h] [Optimal Apex: Late curb]


    [Finely executed!]


    [1200m Straightaway ahead!]


    "1200 freaking meters! Damn!" Luca exclaimed as the long straight stretched before him.


    The crazy part about it was that it wasn''t even the longest!


    But here it was, a river of asphalt, a highway itself, a long untrodden path to the abode of the gods. Luca watched his speedometer rattle as he took it head-on.


    The world blurred at the edges of his 92B, the perimeter trees shrinking, the empty circuit and its barriers spaghettifying into color as if a black hole of velocity was behind Luca, devouring them all.


    The straight took 14 seconds. And the braking zone approached for the last turns of the track.


    [Turn type: Heavy braking right-hander (hairpin)] [Angle: 180¡ã] [Braking Point: 120 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 80 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    A hairpin right after a straight was just pure malevolence, forcing the drivers to kill the precious momentum they had just built.


    Luca''s 056 growled deeply like a SomberCore as it fell drastically in speed, honing deceleration instead.


    [Turn type: Quick left kink] [Angle: 30¡ã] [Braking Point: None] [Recommended Entry Speed: 250+ km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid curb]


    [Turn type: Medium-speed right-hander onto main straight] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 50 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 200 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    [Good job, Host!]


    [Home straight ahead!]


    Luca''s tires, now at full warmth, screeched as he guided the car through the final corner. The car tilted under the forces at the inside curb before straightening up onto the home straight.


    **Alright, let''s chase it. Fastest lap attempt. Go!**


    Luca dropped his right foot, and the car surged forward toward the Start/Finish line, where he''d mark the start of his flyer.


    He felt as if the Shanghai circuit wasn''t even that big, so it was time to course it again while chasing the fastest lap among his rivals.

 Chapter 305 - 305: Chinese Grand Prix

    Race Day: April 10, Shanghai International Circuit, Shanghai, China.


    The Shanghai International Circuit roared back to life. After years of absence, the Chinese Grand Prix had finally returned to the calendar!


    By 4 PM, every grandstand, hospitality suite, and standing terrace was packed to capacity, overflowing with eager spectators. Home fans dominated the crowd, occupying 85% of the seating, while foreign spectators filled the remaining 15%.


    The seating arrangement felt undeniably one-sided. With limited tickets available for foreign fans, many were left watching from outside the circuit or on television.


    Complaints surfaced about this, but they fell on deaf ears since the race organizers had full control over distribution, making their priorities clear.


    While other nations often aimed for a 50:50 or 60:40 split, China took a different approach. With the entire world eager to witness the return of this long-lost race, they ensured their home crowd had the overwhelming majority.


    "...Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Formula 1 Chinese Grand Prix...!"


    F2 had already left its mark on the track the day before, delivering a remarkable performance in which Max Addams¡ªonce again¡ªsecured victory with a marvelous P1 finish.


    Luca had heard about the intense battles, particularly between Max and Aaronson, who fought fiercely until the very end, with Aaronson settling for P2.


    The asphalt bore the evidence of their duel like rubber streaks from aggressive braking and acceleration, along with a damaged barrier in Sector 2, most likely from a crash during the heated contest of thirty drivers.


    However, another dented barrier¡ªthis one at the infamous Turn 14 hairpin¡ªwasn''t a result of F2''s breathtaking action. Instead, it was a reminder of the drama that unfolded during Thursday''s qualifying session.


    Haddock Racing took a brutal hit when Ailbeart Moireach lost control on the long straight, where speeds pushed past 320 km/h.


    Braking for the hairpin was always a fine balance, and Moireach got it wrong. He hit the brakes too late, locking up instantly. The rear snapped out, and no matter how hard he fought to wrestle it back, the car was already gone.


    He spun straight into the barriers at high speed. The impact tore through his rear wing, sending debris flying as the car came to a crushing halt.


    Funny enough, that was Q3 meaning Moireach had made it all the way to the final stage of qualifying, only to end up disqualified.


    In F1, drivers who crash during qualifying and bring out a red flag often have their lap times deleted, essentially disqualifying them from their previous efforts.


    This rule prevents drivers from gaining an unfair sneaky advantage by setting a competitive fastest lap before deliberately causing a session stoppage.


    Unfortunately for Moireach, his crash at Turn 14 was severe enough to warrant this penalty even when he wasn''t the fastest lapper at that moment or he had the intent to stop the session.


    And disqualification simply placed Ailbeart Moireach at the back of the grid¡ªP20.


    In the case where more than one driver crashed during qualifying and received a similar penalty, the starting order is determined by their previous lap times before the incident.


    If neither driver had a valid time, the order is usually based on their final classified position from the previous session (Q1 or Q2).


    Q1 was less competitive than Q2 and Q3. When Luca started his flying laps, he was able to get a score that placed him among the top five fastest lappers for Q1.


    1. Antonio Luigi ? 1:31.438 (+0.000)


    2. Hank Rice ? (+0.064)


    3. Mikhail Petrov ? (+0.172)


    4. Elias Nystr?m ? (+0.284)


    5. Luca Rennick ? (+0.361)


    Then the slowest drivers that made up P16 to P20 on the grid were:


    16. Jimmy Damgaard? (+1.574)


    17. Luis Dreyer ? (+1.667)


    18. James Lockwood ? (+1.776)


    19. Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­ ? (+1.952)


    20. Erik Haas ? (+2.101)


    Sometimes, Luca felt as if the word "slowest" was a bit of a stretch. Considering formula racing dealt with milliseconds and each of these drivers didn''t seem slow¡ªnot in the very least¡ªLuca believed the word should be "less quick" rather than "slowest."


    Because in the grand scheme of things, none of them were slow.


    When it came to Q2, Luca was a bit faster than his Q1 best time. But even then, he was ranked lower than the top five as everyone brought out their best.


    Jackson Racing strategists encouraged Luca to thrust forward for the challenge and settling back for that P11¨CP12 advantage wasn''t always going to be his level.


    So, at the end of Q3, Luca ranked 7th and moved on to the final session to determine the top 10.


    1. Marko Ignatova ? 1:30.945 (+0.000)


    2. Marcellus Rodnick ? (+0.047)


    3. Desmond Lloyd ? (+0.089)


    4. Ailbeart Moireach ? (+0.131)


    5. Antonio Luigi ? (+0.164)


    6. Hank Rice ? (+0.201)


    7. Luca Rennick ? (+0.249)


    Then the slowest drivers that made up P11 to P15 on the grid where:


    11. Davide DiMarco ? (+0.312)


    12. Denko Rutherford ? (+0.354)


    13. J¨®zef Konarski ? (+0.419)


    14. Ansel Hahn ? (+0.471)


    15. Alejandro Vasquez ? (+0.528)


    It was announced that the Chinese Grand Prix Q2 qualifier was one of the tightest in recent history, with mere tenths separating the drivers.


    While the broadcast played, Luca was too busy savoring the sight of Davide DiMarco, a major rival, ending up in P11. It was far from the top spots, but then he recalled Jackson Racing''s well-known qualifying loophole concerning P11, and his excitement quickly faded.


    "Davide made¡ª"


    **Yes, yes. We know. Big problem**


    Luca felt uneasy. "Do you think he¡ªy''know¡ªtimed it on purpose?"


    **Not sure. No clear signs of slowing down, at least not that we can tell**


    Luca gnawed at his lips, clearly unhappy with DiMarco''s grid position. But there was nothing he could do except secure a better spot himself. So when Q3 arrived, he gave it his all, Ailbeart Moireach''s crash fueling his determination.


    In the end, he landed P5¡ªoriginally P6, but with Ailbeart Moireach''s crash bumping everyone up a position.


    Strangely enough, Luca found himself directly ahead of Antonio Luigi and just behind Marko Ignatova.


    P1¡ª Hank Rice


    P2¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P3¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P4¡ª Marko Ignatova S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    P5¡ª Luca Rennick


    P6¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P7¡ª Mikhail Petrov


    P8¡ª Javier Montez


    P9¡ª Desmond Lloyd


    P10¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P11¡ª Denko Rutherford


    P12¡ª J¨®zef Konarski


    P13¡ª Ansel Hahn


    P14¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    P15¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P16¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P17¡ª James Lockwood


    P18¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    P19¡ª Erik Haas


    P20¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    Jackson Racing strategists practically jubilated when Ailbeart Moireach''s disqualification pushed Davide DiMarco up to P10 instead of P11.


    The advantages that came from starting from P11 which we all know were not supposed to be placed in the hands of a driver like Davide DiMarco. So they were truly grateful to another rival, Ailbeart Moireach, for his crash.


    "...P5, Luca Rennick....!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...P4, Marko Ignatova..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...P3, Marcellus Rodnick...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...P2, Elias Nystr?m...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...P1, Hank Rice...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The little mascots, all Asian kids, were escorted out of the grid where they had been playing with their go-karts. It was time for the lights-out countdown, the circuit wild with air horns.


    "...AND HERE WE GO! FROM MONTE CARLO''S STREETS TO SHANGHAI''S METROPOLIS...! THE CHINESE GRAND PRIX IS FINALLY HERE AFTER SIX LONG YEARS...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca was mindlessly saying a prayer when he was interrupted.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been Issued!]

 Chapter 306 - 306: Chinese Grand Prix. 2

    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been Issued!]


    Luca sat up and stared at the system''s interface mistrustfully.


    He vividly remembered the last time it dispensed him a Daily Quest related to the race. It wasn''t a moral one at all, so Luca feared this one might be similar.


    [-¡¤-BEAT THE BACK STRAIGHT TIME OF THIS 56-LAP RACE-¡¤-]


    [CLEAR IT IN LESS THAN 8.00 SEC]


    [DURATION: nil]


    Luca squinted his eyes at the read again before nodding understandably. This one was more ethical and felt like a quest indeed.


    An almost impossible one.


    It meant Luca had to launch out of Turn 13 with the perfect exit, deploy every ounce of ERS, and hold the throttle flat while managing the car''s aerodynamics like a balancing act.


    He would have to prevent any wiggling, wasted motion, or slight hesitation in the throttle.


    Even if he did all these things¡ªnail the exit, deploy full ERS, keep the car perfectly balanced¡ªhe still wouldn''t beat such a time when the average run down the back straight hovered around 10 to 12 seconds for even the fastest cars.


    Luca rubbed his forehead. He was thinking of ways to win the race, and the system was providing more distracting thoughts.


    Seriously, the only way Luca could accomplish this Daily Quest was by using Sync Buff. With no Sync Buff, he might as well kiss his almost one-year streak of completing Daily Quests goodbye.


    [Reward for Completing Saturday''s Daily Quest: (EXP) Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    -Aerodynamics +1


    -Tire Wear Management +1


    Reward for Completing Saturday''s Daily Quest: (Tools)


    - (5) Catalysts


    [Consequence for Failing Saturday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Sore Throat.]


    Luca stood up from the bench, sheer disbelief written all over his face.


    He wanted to commend the system for its absolute mastery in manipulation.


    Offering five Catalysts for this? The system really knew how to put two and two together.


    Beating 8.00 seconds on Shanghai''s back straight was a joke, and the system was trapping Luca with hope. It was like dangling a key right in front of his face, only to move it away just as he reached for it.


    The sore throat punishment wasn''t even that bad, but Luca WANTED those Catalysts. He sighed, realizing he was standing before sitting down again.


    "I''ll try. It doesn''t cost anything to try, after all."


    "...Ahead of today''s main event, we''d like to remind all attendees to follow the safety protocols in place. Please remain in your designated areas, and for those in the Crown Hospitality Club, hospitality services will continue throughout the race...."


    "...Team strategists are finalizing their race plans, mechanics are making last-minute checks, and drivers are preparing to take their positions on the grid. Stay tuned as we count down to lights out...!"


    Luca was fully armored in Jackson Racing''s Blanche, save for his gloves and balaclava. He picked up his MP3 and earpiece before walking to a locker and tossing them in.


    After that, he moved out into the main garage, his own teammate nowhere to be found. Sometimes, Luca wondered what Rodnick actually did before a race. Nothing?


    "Luca?" "Are you ready?" "You''re looking sharp mate!" "All set?"


    "...Please give a warm welcome to the President of the People''s Republic of China, who is here to witness the return of Formula 1 to Shanghai..."


    The English announcement followed right after the Mandarin version, and a sonorous round of applause filled the circuit.


    "The president is present?" Luca whispered, his gaze fixed on the wall-mounted TVs in the garage. The President of China was on his feet, waving to his people. "Nice."


    "...This is a reminder: all non-essential personnel must vacate the pit lane in the next three minutes..."


    The race was set to kick off in the next five minutes, and all drivers were expected to manually roll out their cars to their respective grid positions within the next few minutes.


    Luca stared straight ahead as the meticulous Jackson Racing crew attended to his racing suit, ensuring everything was well-fitted and secured. Meanwhile, Mr. Matthews and the rest of the strategists gave a final rundown of how the race would unfold for Luca.


    He was starting on softs. Two pit stops planned, both replacing the soft compounds with another fresh set. And aggressive would be his racing approach.


    Mr. Matthews predicted great points for the team this Chinese Grand Prix since Rodnick was starting at P3 and Luca at P5. If the race ended this way, they were already walking away with the most points.


    So, it was up to Luca to join Rodnick in the podium spots, and for Rodnick to maintain his position or climb to P1.


    Speaking of Rodnick, he finally emerged into the garage, fist-bumping every crew member he walked past before approaching Luca.


    "Softs today for you, brother. Don''t burn through them too fast," Rodnick said with a chuckle. "Just promise not to get in my way when it matters, alright?"


    Luca nodded, though his mind responded differently. "Don''t worry," he replied. "I plan on seeing you on the podium, preferably from a step higher."


    It took Rodnick a few seconds to process the words, and then he laughed out loud, patting Luca on the shoulder like some drunk bloke in a bar. "We''ll see," he muttered before pulling on his balaclava.


    Luca put on his own as well, and the crew resumed their endless prodding over his body.


    Eventually, he was geared up and ready to go. The Ferraris waited by the side like horses before a charge.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Ferrari (JRX-92B)]


    **Alright, Luca, let''s have a clean rollout. Systems are all green**


    **Softs today, remember. Manage them well, especially into Sector 3**


    A brief pause as Luca waved the Jackson Racing crew beside him goodbye, moving the Ferrari forward.


    **Bring points home. This is a big one**


    Luca nodded, his helmet bobbing up and down as he entered the pit lane, moving under the trampoline tunnel. "Copy. Let''s do this."


    The home straight gradually filled up with single-seaters of varying colors, weaving left and right.

 Chapter 307 - 307: Chinese Grand Prix. 3

    [5th Lap]


    The Chinese Grand Prix race had begun in a not-so-ideal way for Luca, as Grid Launch wasn''t successfully executed for the first time ever.


    [Grid Launch failed!]


    Luca wondered how that was possible. This was the first time he hadn''t gained a starting boost from his grid box since the British Grand Prix last year, and it contributed to his early poor performance in Shanghai.


    Instead of surging forward like usual at the blackout of all five lights, his car simply bogged down in a wheel spin and took the usual grid-start burst time.


    Since Luca was attuned and accustomed to starting all his races with Grid Launch, the bad execution subtly confused him as other cars lunged forward.


    **Looks like a bit of wheelspin off the line. Keep your head down, Luca. Long race ahead**


    "...Lights out in Shanghai! We expected a surreal start from Luca Rennick but he bogs down off the line, and Luigi immediately capitalizes, sweeping past into Turn 1...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [6th Position] sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "...Top five positions already shifting! Rodnick holds firm in P3, but Rennick is struggling off the launch, and he''s now under pressure from Petrov as well...!"


    "...That is not what Jackson Racing wanted. Rennick''s usually sharp off the line¡ªtoday''s different for the young Italian...!"


    Sam was right¡ªSam, the commentator. Luca was actually the best off-the-line driver Formula racing had ever witnessed. But it was exactly these kinds of achievements that weren''t widely recognized or measured in the grand scheme of things.


    Surprisingly, there were no trophies for consistently nailing the perfect launch, no accolades for mastering the art of reaction time. Yet, these were the minute details that actually separated the great from the good.


    P5¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    00¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ý


    Before Luca could even think of planning to retake his position in Sector 1, Antonio Luigi had spectacularly overtaken his own teammate at the sweeping left-hander, Turn 3. This meant a double overtake in the same sector!


    Luca couldn''t believe it as Mercedes swapped positions with Mercedes before him in one of the most borderline overtakes he had witnessed on track.


    P4¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    P5¡ª Marko Ignatova ¡ý


    "...Ohhh! That''s incredible from Antonio Luigi! A double overtake in the first sector, in the first lap here in China, absolutely breathtaking...!"


    "...That was aggressive, that was bold. He set it around the outside against his teammate. Marko Ignatova won''t be happy about that one...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Now, in Lap 5, the same Marko Ignatova was all the way down to:


    P5 ¡ý


    P6 ¡ý


    P7¡ª Marko Ignatova ¡ý


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    What happened? Nothing much, just the aura that came with being overtaken.


    Once the momentum shifts against a driver, it''s like blood in the water. Losing one position invites another, then another. Other rivals would quickly sense the weakness, the hesitation and the tiny loss of confidence.


    Ignatova had fallen into that spiral. From the moment Luigi breezed past him in Turn 3, the attacks came relentlessly, one after another.


    Suddenly, Luigi felt bad for causing his teammate such dismay, which would eventually affect the team''s points.


    But at least now, he was in P3, having overtaken Nystr?m, who started in P2 but was thrown back by both Rodnick and Luigi.


    This felt like an insult to Nystr?m, who always termed himself one of the best drivers on the grid. Now, it was as if the reigning champion and the reigning runner-up had put him in his place.


    P1¡ª Hank Rice


    P2¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P3¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    P4¡ª Elias Nystr?m ¡ý


    P5¡ª Luca Rennick


    Luca had once again lost delta with Luigi as Nystr?m served as a bridge between him and his "fantasized main rival."


    But since the pack was still relatively bunched up, with distances of about 1¨C3 seconds on average, Luca was confident he could catch up. For now, it seemed he hadn''t advanced from his starting position, and the only overtake he''d made was on Ignatova.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 1.5 seconds away, host.]


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The primal voices of thousands, fusing into one tectonic roar that sounded like a hurricane, rolled through every angle of the circuit. The air shook, and Velocit¨¤''s colors were waved higher.


    P7¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ü


    P8¡ª Marko Ignatova ¡ý


    "...OH MY WORD! DAVIDE DIMARCO PULLS IT OFF! HE''S DONE IT! HE''S TAKEN P7 FROM MARKO IGNATOVA...!"


    "...LISTEN TO THAT CROWD! VELOCIT¨¤ FANS ARE ON THEIR FEET¡ªWAVING THEIR FLAGS HIGH AS DIMARCO FORCES IGNATOVA DOWN TO P8...!"


    Marko Ignatova had just suffered another overtake, staining his F1 performance as he found himself in P8, four spots below his starting position¡ªP4.


    And DiMarco, who started in P3, had moved three spots up after overtaking the likes of Lloyd and then Petrov. Simultaneously with DiMarco''s overtake, Denko Rutherford had pushed higher up the pack, sending Lloyd to P11.


    It was a chaotic and unbelievable first five laps of the Chinese Grand Prix. All these drivers were switching positions for fun on a track that didn''t even favor overtaking.


    From past experience, race analysts foretold a few crashes with all this hostility between gearboxes and front wings.


    Even Luca was gradually growing frustrated over Nystr?m''s defense. He wondered why Elias Nystr?m always seemed to remember he could put on a defensive masterclass whenever he was directly behind him.


    The Shanghai International Circuit, as we know, was made up of 16 turns, and these turns had no inclination nor steep sections. They were simply leveled tarmac. With three sectors plus the home straight, it averaged four turns/corners per sector.


    Only two hairpins graced this track¡ªTurn 6 and Turn 14¡ªkilometers apart. The rest were sweepers, barely even corners, or just not-so-tight left or right-handers.


    Luca was just grateful he was getting some EXP at least.


    [Handling +1]


    But Sync Buff was still at 0%, and this was the 10th lap.


    [10th Lap]


    "...tenth lap in this Chinese Grand Prix...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 0.8 seconds away, host.]


    "Calculate driver behind."


    [Analyzing 6th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [6th Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    Javier Montez was the only driver separating Luca from Davide DiMarco, the only demarcation between two growing rivals, and that fact alone made Luca uneasy. He didn''t want DiMarco anywhere behind him¡ªnot in this race, especially.


    Their last encounter¡ªLuca and DiMarco¡ªat the Monaco Grand Prix had ended in controversy. According to public opinion, Luca had been responsible for DiMarco''s DNF.


    But in reality, he had simply applied relentless pressure, forcing DiMarco to push beyond his limits while struggling on cold tires.


    The outcome had been inevitable, regardless of which driver was behind DiMarco!


    Now, here in Shanghai, the situation had the potential to turn against Luca. If DiMarco managed to overtake Montez¡ªsomething that seemed more a matter of when rather than if¡ªLuca would find himself in a precarious position.


    A fired-up Davide DiMarco, with a point to prove and nothing to lose, was the last thing Luca wanted on his rear wing.


    "C''mon, Javi," Luca whispered. "You can hold him off for Outback."


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    Elias Nystr?m was gradually losing his defensive sharpness, though unknowingly. From time to time, an opening to chase after Luigi''s P3 would surface, and he''d almost forget that Luca''s Ferrari was less than a second behind.


    Now at Turn 2, Luca waited patiently, planning his move on the straight of Sector 1.


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 100 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 130 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    Luca was too close to Nystr?m''s rear wing when Nystr?m took the very inside curb recommended by the system.


    He didn''t want to stall behind, knowing the sweeping turn ahead wouldn''t slow Nystr?m down. That meant Nystr?m would gain a few extra milliseconds upon exiting the inside curb first and heading into Turn 4.


    Luca scolded himself for not foreseeing this earlier as he tilted his wheel, guiding his car to the border of the tarmac. His tires grazed the curbs, and the finely trimmed grass beyond rippled like waves in response to their speeds.


    [Turn type: Sweeping left-hander] [Angle: 70¡ã] [Braking Point: 50 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 160 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    Nystr?m swooped out into the roar of the crowd, and Luca followed, 0.8 seconds behind.


    His eyes sharpened, his throat tensed, and his fingers reached for DRS like a lick clocking.


    **We are to TAKE positon on the straight**


    [450m Straightaway ahead!]


    "Copy."


    At that moment, Elias Nystr?m had only two options: hope Luca wasn''t reaching for DRS or prepare for an almost impossible defense against a DRS-moving car on a straight.


    [DRS deployed!]


    Hope was off the table. Luca''s rear wing snapped open like an eagle spreading its wings. Nystr?m cussed under his breath and gripped the wheel tighter.


    "...Elias Nystr?m might kiss top four goodbye as Luca Rennick gets the spark out, the wings open, and that extra burst of speed...!"


    Luca didn''t even need Nystr?m''s slipstream to help accelerate faster as the straight unraveled ahead.


    It was a standard, textbook DRS overtake, just like any other performed in the 50+ year history of Formula racing.


    Luca didn''t even glance at Nystr?m, who fumed as he blurred past him, disengaged DRS, and cut to the left to seal the overtake.


    [DRS disengaged!]


    "...AND IT''S DONE! Luca Rennick SOARS past a helpless Nystr?m! He''s got nothing to fight back with, and Rennick takes P4...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P4, Elias Nystr?m in P5..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [4th Position]


    Before Nystr?m could make any immediate moves, the straight was over, and Turn 5''s sweeper followed. Both had to subtly decelerate.


    [Turn type: Medium-speed left-hander] [Angle: 70¡ã] [Braking Point: 50 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 160 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    It was an uncanny repeat of Turn 4¡ªonly now, Nystr?m had to plant himself behind Luca as they both took the smoothest inside line.


    Luca accelerated first, extending their gap to 0.8 seconds as Turn 6 approached.


    P3¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P4¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P5¡ª Elias Nystr?m ¡ý


    Now in the top four, Luca had his sights set on the podium. But as he searched for his next target, his eyes widened in surprise realizing how Luigi was far ahead!


    The holographic #3 hovered in the late afternoon sky, somewhere near Turn 7 or 8.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 2.8 seconds away, host.]


    Almost three seconds. A gap Luca hadn''t anticipated. He had expected Luigi to mount a defensive challenge the moment he overtook Nystr?m.


    2.8 seconds was a chasm that wouldn''t be closed in an instant¡ªit would take at least two laps. Meaning Luca''s immediate concern was still Elias Nystr?m of Nordvind Racing.


    [5th Position closing in]


    "...Elias Nystr?m wants more from Luca Rennick! Into Turn 7 they go as the pack leaders head on to round up Sector 2...!"


    **Nystr?m is within DRS range. Keep a good eye and instinct**


    **Stay focused. Gap is steady. Next straight still far away, after Turn 10**


    "Understood."


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [5th Position is 0.8 sec away, host.]


    Nystr?m''s aggressive push into Turn 7 quickly turned heads their way. It was a substantial move to overtake considering how wide Shanghai''s track was.


    But Luca executed a successful Corner Chopping, stripping away Nystr?m''s momentum as if he was the one that handed it to him.


    "...beautiful defense from Rennick at the apex, and Nystr?m will try again..!


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    Relief marred Luca''s socked face. He couldn''t believe he hadn''t added an ounce to the Sync Bar until now. If it were other races, he was already 37.5% or even 50% in already at the 10th Lap.


    **You''re managing well. He''ll have to lift soon, or he''s cooking those fronts**


    By Turn 9, it had already evolved into a full fledged duel between Luca and Nystr?m.


    Little did they know a driver with a horrible yet determined frown on his face was approaching, a Red Bull under his pilot, and the Tempesta in his control.


    P6¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ü


    P7¡ª Javier Montez ¡ý

 Chapter 308 - 308: Chinese Grand Prix. 4

    Luca always attempted the Daily Quest administered to him by the system concerning covering 1200m of tarmac in less than 8 seconds. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That was just asking Luca to move at 540¡ª550 km/h!


    Luca knew the sole purpose of the system was to push him to new, unimaginable lengths and help him uncover new abilities in racing he had never imagined.


    But the system was practically telling him to take his mere Ferrari JRX-92B into a hyper rocket.


    Nine laps of trying, the tenth was no different. From the start of the straight, Luca could already tell if he was even going to make 12 seconds or not.


    And halfway through the river, he would sigh seeing [8] count away into [9].


    [Warning: Slipstream Threat Detected]


    [Analyzing car behind...]


    [Cyan Audi (A11 e-Tron)]


    [Distance: ¡ú 0.8s ¡ú 0.6s]


    [Speed Increase: +8 km/h due to slipstream]


    "...On the longest straight in Shanghai, Elias Nystr?m challenges Luca Rennick! The slipstream use! The extra speed! Luca Rennick is set to hand back P4...!"


    "Time to retaliate, brat!" Nystr?m hissed like a snake as his car got so close, almost touching Luca''s.


    They were nearly through the long straight, and Nystr?m predicted he would take on Turn 14''s hairpin first. If he did, the remaining two turns¡ª15 and 16¡ªwould be his ahead of Luca, subtly increasing their gap. The home straight would then solidify his lead in the 11th lap.


    900m/1200m, Nystr?m deemed it the right moment to overtake Luca, with Nordvind Racing''s engineers loudly encouraging him.


    "...Nystr?m commits! Nordvind''s driver swings out, positioning for the upcoming inside line! Rennick''s got a problem¡ªNystr?m''s got the speed and might hit DRS¡ªDOES RENNICK COVER IT OFF...?!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Before Nystr?m could engage DRS and pull alongside, Luca shook his head defiantly. "And I thought we could be buddies at least," he whispered, his eyes fixated on the bright Audi directly behind him on the cam.


    [Ding!]


    [Straightaway Chopping +1]


    "OUUUUHHHH!"


    "...OHHHH, THAT''S BRUTAL DEFENSE FROM RENNICK...!"


    Nystr?m''s reflexes screamed at him. "What the fu¡ª!"


    He jerked the wheel sharply, desperate to avoid rear-ending Luca.


    His sudden swerve to escape contact clipped Luca''s rear wing on the left side, and a flash of carbon fiber sparked like two rocks striking against each other to create fire.


    Luca instantly felt the tremor just as his system informed him of his slow Sync Buff progress.


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    [System Alert: Contact Detected]


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...CONTACT! CONTACT! LUCA RENNICK TAKES A HIT...!"


    Luca''s Ferrari skittered sideways in such a manner that he got a 360¡ã view of the beautiful Shanghai International Circuit, and even caught a glimpse of the helmeted face of the driver who grazed him.


    "Shit," he cussed.


    "...ELIAS NYSTR?M''S DESPERATE SAVE JUST SENT RENNICK INTO A SKID...!"


    [Warning: Rear Wing Stability Decreased]


    [Downforce Fluctuation Detected]


    [Traction Unstable]


    **Contact, Luca! You''ve been clipped! Rear left¡ªminor damage! Keep it steady¡ªsmall countersteer!**


    **Nystr?m, you clipped him! Front wing check¡ªstability at 93%. Focus up! Turn 14 coming¡ªstay composed and overtake now, no yellow flags yet**


    Nystr?m clenched his teeth as a slight ringing echoed in his head. If F1 drivers didn''t use the HANS, his neck might have snapped.


    He bit his lip, swerving right back to the center of the straight, momentum completely lost, down to tens of km/h now.


    1100/1200 m


    At least, he was better than Luca, who was barely surviving from a 360.


    "Serves him right," Nystr?m muttered, gripping his trembling wheel as he prepared to overtake Luca.


    But Luca wasn''t going to let such a shameless overtake happen. He was furious that his own Straightaway Chopping had somehow backfired, but there was no way he was losing P4.


    "...LUCA RENNICK¡ªCAN HE RECOVER? HE DOES! HE CATCHES THE SLIDE! BUT LOOK! HE''S STILL WITHIN RANGE FOR TURN 14...!"


    The crowd was on their feet, momentarily ignoring the other drivers moving at top speeds and shifting their focus to these two weaving and rotating like snails.


    If they kept this up any longer, the drivers behind would catch up, and no one knew what would happen then.


    [Traction Slightly Unstable]


    [Ding!]


    [Traction Detected!]


    Luca''s first 360 save in Formula 1 was going to be one to remember. He pumped his fist in victory as his car deftly cut into the hairpin, with Nystr?m following behind, bewildered at such control.


    [Agility +1]


    [Handling +1]


    [Tire Wear Management +1]


    [Gripper +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    "...Unbelievable! Rennick not only survives the 360¡ªHE''S STILL FIGHTING FOR POSITION...!"


    Nystr?m was frozen in disbelief. His hands trembled slightly on the wheel as he gunned for Turn 14, watching in utter shock as Luca¡ªthe guy who should''ve been out of control¡ªnot only straightened out but dove into the corner as if nothing had happened.


    If not for the harsh black tire marks and the now-dissipating smoke, it would seem as if Luca hadn''t just suffered a near race-ending scenario.


    What angered Nystr?m the most was the fact that Luca had magically gained a solid one-second lead out of nowhere.


    "What. The. Hell?!" he blurted inside his helmet.


    "...This is why we watch Formula 1! Rennick defies physics, defies logic, and HE KEEPS P4...!"


    **LUCA, WHAT A SAVE! UNBELIEVABLE! Keep it tight¡ªNystr?m''s still on you, but that was some damn good handling!**


    Luca grinned, allowing himself a moment of happiness despite the tension clawing at his entire body. He glanced all around the system interface in search of any red alerts, but thankfully, there were none.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 135 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 117 bpm


    -Operational Status: 80% (Good)


    -Breathing: Slightly Elevated


    -Distance covered: 55000m


    -Time: 16 min. ]


    Screeeeeeech!


    THUD!!!!!!!


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Sometimes, Luca wondered just how great the Spatial Awareness skill was. He remembered the times he Sync Buffed the skill to (50) and how it felt like the racetrack had transformed into an extension of his own body.


    It was as if the faintest changes, actions, and movements taken all around the track were whispered into his ear.


    At its peak, Luca could predict the way a rival''s car would behave based on their weight transfer alone. He could tell when a driver was going to lock up a brake, when they were too aggressive on the throttle, or when they left just enough space to be punished.


    Spatial Awareness'' primary use was simply knowing what was happening around him. His (8) testified well to it, and his eyes quickly dashed to his side mirror since nothing was displayed on the cam at that moment.


    Nystr?m''s Audi tipped like a tanker as he barely made the tight turn of the hairpin, his tires wearing drastically. He had carried too much sudden speed into the hairpin in pursuit of Luca.


    "NO, NO, NO!" he growled, fighting the wheel, his foot hovering over the brake. If he braked, his tires would lock up, possibly causing a somersault.


    The car swung further out of the track, smashed through the barricades, and onto the grass. The crowd jumped to their feet, roaring with their arms open to welcome the machine and the driver inside.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...Elias Nystr?m has LOST IT¡ªHE''S GONE WIDE...!"


    What marveled everyone the most was that the momentum he carried was enough to smash through the steel barricades, but the Tecpro barriers before the grandstands were strong enough to hold him, resulting in that THUD!


    "Goddammit!" Nystr?m hissed through gritted teeth, his breathing ragged as his hands clutched the wheel. The force of the crash had rattled every bone in his body.


    It seemed fate was against Elias Nystr?m that afternoon. At the moment of his crash, race control was busy relaying his 5-second penalty for clipping Luca to his team engineers.

 Chapter 309 - 309: Chinese Grand Prix. 5

    [15th Lap]


    Elias Nystr?m''s crash at Turn 14 was a grievous one. It almost shattered the Audi into pieces, leaving behind fragments and scraps. At the end of Nystr?m''s roll, when the cameras finally captured a stable shot, the majestic machine had been totally morphed into an apocalyptic wreckage.


    Nystr?m could barely make it out of his cockpit.


    When he did, he hauled his helmet from his head and spat at the feet of the marshals who had hurried to the scene to assist him.


    It was a cataclysmic moment. Nystr?m thundered that he could walk back to his garage alone, the red flags waving at the edges of the barricades. The other drivers, still speeding through the track, immediately dropped their speeds.


    The first DNF of the race went to Elias Nystr?m. He was going to fly out of Shanghai with 0 points. This meant that heading into round three of the season¡ªthe U.S. Grand Prix¡ªNystr?m would carry over his deficient 6 points from finishing 7th place in the Monaco Grand Prix.


    Luca shook his head. "Great. Now it''s time for another controversy," he muttered during the traditional safety car parade rather than the virtual one.


    "Oh, ''Luca Rennick causes another driver to DNF. Dangerous driving again? Should the FIA investigate? Luca Rennick has found himself at the center of another tragic incident. The Nordvind Racing driver, Elias Nystr?m, has been robbed of a potential podium, all thanks to¡ªguess who? Luca Rennick! Is this a pattern?''


    Of course it''s a pattern. This is the pattern of Formula racing."


    Reinforcing Luca''s thoughts, Nystr?m''s crash on the tenth lap wasn''t the only incident. It was just the first, as two more followed within the next four laps.


    These two only required yellow flags, though that didn''t mean they hadn''t stretched the estimated time for what should have been four simple laps.


    The two drivers involved were familiar names. In fact, Luca felt a sting when he saw Ansel''s name on the dashboard leaderboard, marked with three Xs.


    It almost made him angry, especially when the race replay showed that Ansel was unchallenged¡ªit was just a miscalculation.


    As Trampos'' only hope, Luca fumed at Ansel for failing to inch closer to the top ten, at the very least. A point was something. Even a single point meant earnings for the team.


    XXX¡ªAnsel Hahn


    The second driver was Luis Dreyer. That one, Luca didn''t mind at all.


    XXX¡ªLuis Dreyer


    Luca was then informed that Ailbeart Moireach had surprisingly not been penalized despite his contact with Dreyer, which had caused the sweep-out of a tire.


    The news itself didn''t stun Luca. What did was the mention of Ailbeart Moireach.


    The same Ailbeart Moireach who started at the very bottom of the grid¡ªP20?


    What the hell was he doing seven positions above his start this early in the race?


    P13¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ü


    P14 ¡ü


    P15 ¡ü


    P16 ¡ü


    P17 ¡ü


    P18 ¡ü


    P19 ¡ü


    P20 ¡ü


    Luca didn''t want to admit it, but he had to face reality that the middle of the pack was gradually becoming more adversarial than the front, the very place he was pushing for.


    With Nystr?m out of the way, it was as if a thick fog had cleared from his back, only to reveal a whole new threat.


    Even under the regulations of the ongoing safety car parade, this threat didn''t look any less menacing.


    **Safety car leaves soon. Watch your gap to Davide**


    P4¡ªLuca Rennick


    P5¡ªDavide DiMarco ¡ü


    P6¡ªDenko Rutherford ¡ü


    P7¡ªJimmy Damgaard ¡ü


    "...We patiently await the resumption of the Chinese Grand Prix, and just look at this pack forming behind Rennick...!"


    "...it''s a storm, Sam. They''re all lined up like wolves scenting blood...!"


    Since the safety car parade always bunched up all the drivers, everyone now had a clearer view of each other. Those who had once dismissed Rice and Rodnick as untouchable now saw them within reach.


    And finally, Luca could see Luigi again. The holographic #3 vanished since he was that close now.


    In essence, Luca, sitting in P4, was the fragile link between two very different tiers of competition.


    Once the safety car slothfully pulled away, Hank Rice, who had been leading from the very beginning, was handed control to lead the pack back to the grid and resume Lap 16.


    Meanwhile, Ansel and Dreyer heaved deep breaths of frustration as they headed into their team garages, their backs turned to the cameras.


    The feeling of being the downtrodden must be really oppressive especially in F1, where teams with superior chassis and tech often held the advantage, took the wins, and dictated the pace of the championship.


    And with the HiCEs set to arrive soon, the competition would only become even more cutthroat and skewed further in favor of the bigger teams.


    For the teams that knew they couldn''t acquire the upgrades, these early races were their only real shot.


    Only for DNFs to be handed out like candy this season.


    The weave back to the grid was a quiet one, tension hanging thick in the air. Spectators saved their voices for when Rice would pick up the pace after crossing the Start/Finish line.


    Jimmy, sitting at P7, wasn''t focused on strategy like the others. He was thinking about chaos.


    The safety car restart was where the real excitement began. The tires had cooled off slightly, the pack was tight, and one wrong move could spiral into absolute carnage.


    Jimmy Damgaard knew that he and DiMarco practiced the Tiered Pursuit strategy where he was Driver B, DiMarco the A.


    He wasn''t supposed to overtake his teammate in most situations, but that didn''t stop him from wishing for a slip-up at his own teammate, one that could give him an edge. He was a selfish driver, after all, and wouldn''t hesitate if it benefitted him.


    Luca exhaled sharply as all engines wove through Sector 3.


    [Longevity: +2]


    He silently thanked the system before returning his focus to the cam, his gaze narrowing on DiMarco''s Red Bull, trailing him closely.


    **Be ready, Davide. The moment Luca moves, you move faster**


    "Yes," DiMarco simply replied.


    [Turn type: Quick left kink] [Angle: 30¡ã] [Braking Point: None] [Recommended Entry Speed: 250+ km/h] [Optimal Apex: Mid curb]


    [Turn type: Medium-speed right-hander onto main straight] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 50 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 200 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    [Straightaway ahead]


    "...out of Turn 16 they go, clawing at the tarmac, weaving ever so slightly to keep heat in the tires¡ªAND LOOK AT THIS! THEY''RE ALREADY JOSTLING FOR POSITION BEFORE THE GREEN FLAG...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca shifted to cover the line DiMarco feinted toward. He narrowed his eyes at his notoriety. "Someone''s gonna get a penaltyyyy," he warned.


    "...They can''t overtake just yet, but the tension is boiling over¡ªHANK RICE IS WAITING, MOVING...AND THERE HE GOES! FULL THROTTLE, FOLLOWED BY RODNICK I! THE CHINESE GRAND PRIX IS BACK UNDERWAY...!"


    [16th Lap] sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 310 - 310: Chinese Grand Prix. 6

    [5th Position closing in]


    Hank Rice had kept the pace steady at 80 km/h, forcing the others to maintain the formation and ensuring he could make a quick getaway when the green flag dropped.


    As soon as he crossed the Start/Finish line, Rice slammed the throttle down and unleashed a surge of ERS. The green light from race control blinked, and the second round of the season resumed.


    Luca knew he had to bridle his impulse to exceed the 80 km/h speed time set by Rice. If he did, it would be an immediate penalty.


    Rodnick crossed the line about half a second later, joining Rice as they accelerated through the rest of the straight and towards the other end of the broad circuit.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    Luca kept his eyes glued to the real-time delta data display, waiting for when Luigi would cross the line.


    As soon as Luigi passed, Luca tracked the time, noting the seconds¡ªboth micro and milli¡ªthat he had gained. It was critical data, an edge to gauge the gap he had over the rivals behind, especially those so close to him now.


    His mind was moving fast, and the system raced with him.


    [You are 1.02 seconds behind 3rd Position.]


    [Time loss upon launch: +0.12s]


    [ERS Deployment: Moderate]


    [Grid Launch +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    "??????!!!!!"


    "System, come again?"


    [Grid Launch +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    How strange it was to receive a Grid Launch notification while he was in the middle of a race. Luca knew the system didn''t have a bug like late notifications, so he quickly understood that his race resumption had triggered the EXP.


    "So... you mean to say I just gained points for launching off the grid mid-race?"


    [Affirmative. Grid Launch EXP is awarded upon significant race restarts under green flag conditions.]


    "Hmm," Luca thought. He wished he had known this earlier. If he had put in the effort for all the previous race restarts, his Grid Launch EXP would be much higher than its current (12).


    Now that he knew, he hoped to at least exploit it for quicker Sync Buffs.


    [Turn type: Tight right-hander (continuation of Turn 1)] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: N/A (carrying speed from Turn 1)] [Recommended Entry Speed: 150 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Inside curb]


    [5th Position closing in]


    Much to Luca''s advantage, he had a 0.7s time gain over DiMarco at the restart. So, now, the system provided an accurate in-race delta.


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [5th Position is 4 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value might remain constant.]


    [System''s suggestion: Overtake 3rd Position to increase time gap]


    Suggestion or the actual solution?


    Luca dug deep into his arsenal and managed a Corner Chopping against DiMarco, who didn''t expect it. This subtly increased the time gap by an extra 0.5s.


    But Luca knew DiMarco would trim those seconds like they never existed once the first straight opened. So, with a little breathing space, Luca focused ahead, his gaze settling on Luigi.


    The solution was to take the podium spot from Luigi smoothly without causing havoc. Luca already feared one driver on the track had an ulterior motive against him concerning what transpired in Monaco.


    To ensure a safe race for himself, he preferred if the count remained 1 and not 2. Facilely taking P3 from Luigi would be the best way.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 0.8 seconds away, host.] S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Straightaway ahead!]


    "...The first straight after a restart is always absolute fire! No DRS... yet, just raw power, ERS deployment, and pure guts as these drivers claw for every bit of advantage...!"


    "...Luca Rennick holding firm in P4, but Davide DiMarco is already on the hunt! We saw that cheeky move from Rennick through the complex, but can he keep the gap before they reach top speed...?"


    Luca was going to use DRS, no one would stop him. He doubted Luigi would get Rodnick, since Rodnick was focused on getting Rice.


    Similarly, Luca was out to get Luigi, and DiMarco, a second and a quarter behind Luca, wasn''t in an ideal delta to use DRS effectively.


    A big bonus for Luca as he engaged!


    [DRS Engaged!]


    The crowd roared as two Ferrari rear wings opened in tandem! Just as Luca predicted, he and Rodnick both utilized DRS.


    "...BOTH FERRARIS DEPLOY AT ONCE! RODNICK AND RENNICK¡ªA SYNCHRONIZED ATTACK DOWN THE STRAIGHT...!!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luigi''s senses sparked at Luca''s daring guts. He hadn''t spent many races with the fellow Italian yet, but he could already feel the sting of the challenge Luca posed.


    Luigi took a deep breath, gripping the wheel tighter, his fingers quickly finding the right buttons as he prepared to surge.


    Perhaps Luca hadn''t learned his lesson last time. Now, he was going to remind him exactly who and what he was dealing with.


    "Merda..." Luigi cursed, his frustration spilling out in Italian. He quickly released the buttons that would activate his planned modes and snapped his foot off the throttle.


    Luigi just realized if he executed that power burst now, he would launch himself straight into the rear of Rice and Rodnick, causing a massive crash and a huge penalty.


    With no defense-attack left, he defaulted to standard defense. Blocking the inside line to deny Luca was the best option.


    "That should keep him back¡ª"


    Too late. His hesitation, caught between the destructive power of his FiammaVeloce and his need for caution, gave Luca the opening he needed.


    A black and blue blur¡ªcolors hostile to Luigi even before Luca entered F1¡ªslipped through, and Luca moved into his racing space like water through cracks.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...OH, LUCA RENNICK SNEAKS THROUGH! That was a masterstroke of precision...!"


    *... Antonio Luigi tried to cover the inside, but he was just too late. Ferrari overtakes Mercedes, Jackson Racing, a position ahead, and Squadra Corse are losing to their rivals....!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P3, Antonio Luigi in P4 ..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [3rd Position]


    Luca could hardly believe it. He had expected a fight¡ªa real battle to squeeze past Luigi¡ªbut instead, the door cracked open just enough, and he slipped through like it was meant to happen.


    "Did I just¡ª?"


    "HAHHHAHAHHA! HAAA!"


    "I DID IT! I OVERTOOK THAT DICK!"

 Chapter 311 - 311: Chinese Grand Prix. 7

    [20th Lap]


    [Tires are in average condition, host. DRS is unavailable. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 18%.]


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. However, considering you''re on lap 20, a pit stop is highly demanded.]


    [Heat Management +3]


    The intermediary laps of a race often brought about a fresh balance of strategy and pressure.


    Usually, by this time, the pack had spread out significantly, with definite positions on the leaderboard that could last two to three laps before any change.


    However, since the Chinese GP had recently undergone a yellow flag session, the field wasn''t as dispersed as it should have been.


    Whether the drivers were scattered or not, pit stops weren''t going to wait for anyone. Tire wear was already becoming a problem for those who started on softs¡ªLuca included.


    And after their lessons in Monte Carlo, everyone understood¡ªno playing chicken here. As soft compound users, an early pit was their calling, whether they liked it or not.


    "Tires are starting to feel it..." Luca said into the radio. "Next lap? After that? The lap after that?"


    **Tire wear is at 60, Luca. You can hold steady for the next two laps**


    Luca glanced at the dashboard display to stay updated on who was pitting this lap.


    **Heat management looking good. Remember, we need to stay sharp on the in-lap. We''re expecting a small, quick change. The team is ready**


    "Copy."


    P3¡ª Luca Rennick


    P4¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P5¡ª Denko Rutherford ¡ü


    P6¡ª Jimmy Damgaard ¡ü


    P7¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡û


    Luca was delighted to see Davide DiMarco fall down the leaderboard after making his first pit stop of the race.


    Now, Denko Rutherford and Jimmy Damgaard, who had started the race at P10 and P15 respectively, had found their spots at P5 and P6.


    This was actually impressive, considering Denko and Damgaard were on hards. And that meant they''d have a longer stint in this Chinese GP before making that single favorable pit stop.


    Into the 21st lap, it was fun to see how the structure was changing down below. But for those at the front, timing was everything even though they knew the consequences of pitting late.


    The decision between maintaining position or slipping down the ranks was always going to be the toughest in F1. That, and maybe the decision of waiting for a safe overtake or bulldozing your rival.


    Luca could sense Luigi''s patience was on thin ice, and he must have been really struggling with that dilemma.


    For the past few laps, Luca had taken notice of the fact that Luigi wasn''t as aggressive in the middle stint. Whether it was down to tire management, fuel conservation, or just team strategy, he tended to hold back more than expected.


    Luca wasn''t sure if this was part of a bigger plan or just hesitation, but either way, it worked to his advantage. Now, he was hoping to create a good time gap, one that could grant him the confidence to head into the pits without worrying about losing spots.


    Settled in P3, Luca had the best seat in the pack as he watched Rodnick overtake Rice after a decade-long duel between the two of them.


    "...AND THERE IT IS! MARCELLUS RODNICK TAKES THE LEAD...!"


    The crowd roared, rising to their feet at once. In contrast, the Iberia Grand Prix garage¡ªthough not silent¡ªhad a different kind of collective sound that left their lips.


    Groaning filled their territory of purple and black as hands flew to heads and faces were buried into arms.


    "....UNBELIEVABLE! HANK RICE LED THIS RACE FROM THE VERY START, BUT IT''S ALL OVER NOW AS MARCELLUS RODNICK CLAIMS P1 FOR JACKSON RACING..."


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    P1¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P2¡ª Hank Rice ¡ý


    "...Don''t you think it''s just commendable on Hank Rice''s part? An F1 driver through and through, as tough as the bark of a tree. The Inured One, indeed, thrusting that Audi forward and competing with greater lengths! Incredible....!"


    Luca was just thinking the same thing. It was really impressive how Hank Rice managed to push his Audi to such limits despite it not being the best car on the grid.


    Not even in the top 7.


    Even with all its shortcomings, Rice had kept it at the front for so long, fighting off challenges from cars that had CLEAR advantages over his.


    Since Hank Rice was in P2 and Luca in P3, Luca decided to give their chassis a quick comparison.


    He knew his 92B was far better, but he just wanted to see it, maybe feel that superiority, and leave no doubt.


    Hank Rice''s chassis was the Audi (R24-F1), weighing 800kg with a top speed of 330 km/h and an acceleration of 3 sec.


    Even before the main chassis comparison, Luca wished his hands were free so he could applaud the Englishman before him.


    [Chassis Comparison]


    [Retrieving Data from registered car and car under analysis....]


    [...Data successfully retrieved!]


    [Selected Modes:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B)


    ¡ªAudi (R24-F1) ]


    [POWER & PERFORMANCE:


    ¡ªAudi (R24-F1): 85% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 96%???


    [AERODYNAMICS & CHASSIS:


    ¡ªAudi (R24-F1): 88% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 93%???


    [HANDLING & DYNAMICS:


    ¡ªAudi (R24-F1): 86% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [ENDURANCE & RELIABILITY:


    ¡ªAudi (R24-F1): 94% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [TECHNOLOGICAL INTEGRATION:


    ¡ªAudi (R24-F1): 80% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%??? ]


    [Review: Ferrari (JRX-92B) is built for podiums, while Audi (R24-F1) is built for standardization.]


    Hank Rice''s name currently displayed the two zeroes, meaning Luca had the chance to overtake him if he attempted, but Luca didn''t want to stretch his pitstop time.


    It was always like this for a driver: Just when the pit window approached, that was when the most tempting opportunities appeared.


    Whether it was a rival struggling ahead, a sudden gap forming, or the perfect chance to undercut, something always seemed to dangle just out of reach.


    That was how late, unfortunate pit stops happened.


    So, into Lap 22, Luca got ready to visit the pits. Even though he didn''t overtake Rice now, he eventually would since Rice¡ªrunning on softs¡ªhadn''t pitted yet.


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [4th Position is 1.5 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value will decrease due to pitstop.]


    [System Update: Pitlane Entry Detected]


    [Speed Limit: 80 km/h]


    [System''s prediction: 11 sec¡ª13 sec]


    "Tch! I''ll lose position."


    **Team is ready**


    Each Jackson Racing crew member assigned for pit stops stood ready with their special tools in hand. Even moments of importance still had fragments of casualness as they spoke to themselves through their helmets.


    Luca''s Ferrari came into view at the pit lane entrance. The blue trampoline tunnel made it seem farther than it was supposed to be, and the Ferrari, an aerodynamic blue dot in the sea of tarmac.


    "Ferrari incoming!"


    "...Luca Rennick will be visiting the pits in the 22nd lap! This gives an open field to Antonio Luigi..!"


    Luca carefully studied the race data.


    00¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ú


    P4¡ª Antonio Luigi


    By the time he glided into the pit box, Luigi inherited P3.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    P3¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    00¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ú


    "Stay sharp, boys!" Eddy called out, even though there were a few girls on the team.


    The hiss of the air gun, the swap of fresh tires, and the snap of the jack releasing... all in 2.3 seconds.


    Luca shot out of the box with the pit limiter engaged, his focus locked on the pit exit ahead. His eyes darted to the track beside him, searching for any gap¡ªany fraction of a second¡ªthat could put him ahead of Denko.


    But Denko''s Renault was tearing down the straight like it had been starved for open track. The gap was closing fast, and Luca''s window was shrinking by the millisecond.


    He pressed on, but when he realized his system didn''t display the intersection info, it meant he really had no chance to make it.


    **P5 is still strong. You''re fresh out of the pits. Damgaard''s in P6!**


    "...Luca''s out! But does he have enough? The answer is NO! Denko Rutherford storms through! The Renault was just too quick on the straight, and Luca finds himself slipping behind...!"


    [5th Position]


    "Bollocks!" Luca hissed, aggravated. Falling down two positions was a bummer.


    "...Luca Rennick in P5, Denko Rutherford in P4..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [System''s prediction: 11 sec¡ª13 sec]


    [Host''s pitlane Entry and Exit: 11.1 sec]


    "So close."


    Yet, not another point for Pitstop Prodigy in this race. Looking at his Sync Buff at 50%, Luca began counting down the minutes until these drivers would see him and his car enter god mode again.


    To stay aware of his surrounding rivals, Luca requested a quick delta check as he focused on rebuilding heat in his tires. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 1.5 seconds away, host.]


    Crazy how Denko had already put up such a gap. With poor grip on Luca''s side, that gap would subtly increase.


    [Analyzing 6th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [6th Position is 2 seconds away, host.]


    Luca recalled Mr. Berry informing him that Damgaard was at P6 now. So, judging by the rate of tire warmth buildup, Luca estimated Damgaard to be less than a second behind him once his grip was optimized.


    However, Luca was stunned when Mr. Berry spoke again, this time without his usual tone of encouragement, but with concern instead.


    **Luca, it seems Velocit¨¤ are implementing strategy. Jimmy and Davide are switching positions**

 Chapter 312 - 312: Chinese Grand Prix. 8

    Bueseno Velocit¨¤ were STAUNCH practitioners of the Tiered Pursuit strategy. It was ingrained in their philosophy as much as tires were integral to a car.


    From the very beginning of F1 history, they had been known as a team that unapologetically favored one driver over the other. Whether it was during Maldonado''s era, Aldo Rennick''s reign, or Rossi''s time, Velocit¨¤ remained unwavering in its rigid driver hierarchy.


    Yet, despite this approach, the team had only ever produced legends, not GOATs.


    Perhaps they failed to grasp that true greatness on the grid was forged through relentless competition rather than being granted special privileges.


    Or maybe, that simply wasn''t their objective¡ªperhaps their vision for a structured Driver A and Driver B had always been by design.


    Some young drivers steered clear of Bueseno Velocit¨¤, saying and fearing that their careers would forever be overshadowed by the team''s designated star.


    Others, however, admired the structure, and their reasoning was surprisingly logical. They saw it as an opportunity, believing that the dominant driver would eventually leave or retire, passing the torch to whoever was next in line.


    But it definitely wasn''t going to be as easy as that. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For instance, before young Jimmy Damgaard could even dream of taking the helm at Bueseno Velocit¨¤ following DiMarco''s departure¡ªwhether by retirement or transfer¡ªanother contender might have already arrived, proving themselves the better choice.


    "Move, you twat!" Davide DiMarco growled into the radio at his teammate, Damgaard.


    Jimmy was right before DiMarco¡ªRed Bull and Red Bull filling up positions five and six.


    DiMarco had exited the pits in the previous laps before this one, so he was just getting full warmth into his tires and was ready to pounce back into action.


    But a driver''s ahead. No problem, that''s his teammate, Jimmy. DiMarco knew he could easily bark the command, and Damgaard would docilely give way, handing him a free ticket to overtake and claim the position.


    Jimmy Damgaard himself knew this, and hearing DiMarco''s arrogant relay burned his chest with anger.


    He had thought a situation like this wouldn''t come into play this season, but he was damn wrong. And if it occurred as early as the second race, then there was more to come.


    **Jimmy, Davide is faster. We need you to let him through. Confirm**


    "..."


    **Jimmy, do you copy? Let Davide through. He''s... on fresher tires and Luca''s ahead, on poor grip**


    "Yeah, I heard," Damgaard replied.


    **Then make it happen. Don''t hold him up**


    Damgaard chuckled bitterly and muttered to himself. "Of course. Wouldn''t want to inconvenience the team''s star, would we?"


    He remembered the Spanish Grand Prix last year when he won his first-ever race in F1. Jimmy could never forget the look on DiMarco''s face.


    It was a look of surprise¡ªthe afterthought of Velocit¨¤ had claimed P1 in Mandalora over their golden boy. How unbelievable!


    Into Turn 2, DiMarco didn''t even wait for Damgaard to fully move aside. He forced his way through with the inside line.


    He even nearly brushed Damgaard''s front wing, but he didn''t care. The radio had told him to wait, but patience wasn''t in his vocabulary. Luca was ahead, and he needed to catch up fast.


    P6¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ü


    P7¡ª Jimmy Damgaard¡ý


    "...Typical of Velocit¨¤ to make switches, and they execute one here in the 22nd Lap! But look at that! Davide DiMarco didn''t even wait for Jimmy Damgaard to completely move aside! He just forced his way through into Turn 2, cutting across without hesitation...!"


    "...You''d expect a cleaner exchange between teammates, but that was anything but clean! Damgaard was clearly stalling, maybe frustrated..."


    "...It''s always going to be frustration. Giving up a position would always sting, even if it''s to your own brother..."


    "...Davide DiMarco in P6, Jimmy Damgaard in P7...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    **Davide has moved up and is now just a few seconds behind you. He''s been gaining steadily, and he''s not someone to underestimate. Keep your focus**


    Luca nodded. "I see him."


    [Analyzing 6th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [6th Position is 2.5 sec away, host.]


    [System''s prediction: that value will decrease]


    **He''s pushing hard, and with those fresher tires, he''s going to be aggressive. Don''t let him catch you off guard**


    "Understood. I''m NOT giving up this position."


    Luca had the willpower to defend, but his tires? Not so sure. He asked the system for some info clearance.


    [Front Left: 87¡ãC ¡ú 72¡ãC ?]


    [Front Right: 88¡ãC ¡ú 70¡ãC ?]


    [Rear Left: 85¡ãC ¡ú 73¡ãC ?]


    [Rear Right: 85¡ãC ¡ú 71¡ãC ?]


    "...Luca Rennick is in trouble! His tires are still not up to temperature, and with every turn in the first sector that gap is closing. It''s clear the fresher tires are giving DiMarco the advantage, and he''s pouncing forward...!"


    "...Luca''s holding onto P6, but it''s only a matter of time before the pressure cracks! The first straight opens....!"


    [Straightaway ahead]


    Denko, Luigi, and the rest had already run down the straight and were starting the next sector.


    Luca was somewhat of a leading driver now as the 450m Straight revealed its empty self.


    [6th Position closing in]


    [Spatial Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    As Luca''s car straightened out and began to accelerate, he threw a glance at his side mirror, watching as DiMarco rounded the sweeper with Damgaard trailing behind.


    Luca was no fool. He could tell when a driver wasn''t racing anymore. He knew the signs of deliberateness for something else rather than an overtake.


    Even though Luca calmly realized DiMarco was sizing him up, his heart betrayed him and began pounding.


    [You have picked up speed!]


    [6th Position closing in]


    [Warning: Slipstream Threat Detected]


    [Analyzing car behind...]


    [Blue Red Bull (RBioL)]


    [Distance: 1s ¡ú 0.8s ¡ú 0.5s]


    [Speed Increase: +10 km/h due to slipstream]


    "...He''s within DRS range now¡ªthis is it! Davide, we know you''re not one to hold back when you''ve got the slipstream, and Luca''s barely holding on! Let''s see it! Come on, Davide, make that move...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Davide DiMarco gritted his teeth, using every ounce of ERS as Luca''s slipstream helped eradicate aerodynamic drag. He didn''t engage DRS because DRS helps overtake and he had no plans for that.


    **Luca, defend the position! DiMarco''s closing in fast¡ªdo NOT let him through! Focus!**


    Luca had to tell his engineers. "He wants to crash m¡ª!"


    Before he could finish, DiMarco slammed his front wing into Luca''s rear, sending both cars veering off course with a deafening crash.

 Chapter 313 - 313: Chinese Grand Prix. 9

    "...Unbelievable! What a turn of events here! DiMarco has taken out Luca in one of the most aggressive moves we''ve seen this season...!"


    "...both cars are off track and into the barriers! The crowd is in shock, absolutely stunned by what''s just unfolded...!"


    [Car Speed: 0km/h (Crashed)]


    [Operational Status: 14% (Failure Imminent)]


    "...This is one of the most controversial moments in racing! Did DiMarco go too far? Was it calculated, or was it reckless? We''ll have to wait and see what the stewards say, but right now, both drivers are out of the race and are even struggling to make it out of their cars..."


    **Luca, stay where you are. Recovery team is out to get you**


    After a brief pause, Mr. Berry glanced at his other engineers in the telemetry room and sighed. **I''m sorry, but we have to retire. Your race''s gone**


    [Breathing: Drastically Spiked]


    [Endurance +1]


    Luca was well-trained in surviving crashes, his body instinctively reacting as his mind cleared the fog from the impact. His ears still rang, but his hands moved with purpose.


    He reached for his HANS device and pulled it off. It was fascinating to see how his Blanche had stuck to his body because of the sudden deceleration.


    Luca then pulled himself out of the cockpit, his system interface vanishing as the car-host link was instantly lost.


    "...And that''s it! A shocking incident here in Shanghai! Both cars are out of the race, with Luca Rennick and Davide DiMarco involved in a collision that''s sent both drivers off-track. The race has taken an unexpected twist as two great drivers are now sidelined...!"


    "...Red Flag in the 22nd Lap...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca almost didn''t realize he was on a track as hot as lava. Damgaard had long since zipped by, and now Moireach, in P12, was just rolling by, taking his time to inspect the wreckage with a huge smile on his face.


    For Ailbeart Moireach, Davide DiMarco''s DNF meant less competition for him. And with Luca Rennick out too, things were even better.


    Luca removed his helmet and gasped for air. The roar of the Shanghai International Circuit instantly filled his ears, as if he were at the center of a coliseum in ancient Greece.


    Waving red flags filled his vision, both the real ones held by the marshals and the ones waved by the spectators in support of their crash.


    Only then did Luca realize the full scale of the circuit, as he gawked at the sheer vastness and passion of Formula racing.


    "...Red Flag in the 22nd Lap...!" the announcement called again.


    P5¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ý


    P6¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ý


    P7¡ª ¡ý


    P8¡ª ¡ý


    P9¡ª ¡ý


    P10¡ª ¡ý


    P11¡ª ¡ý


    P12¡ª ¡ý


    P13¡ª ¡ý


    Luca''s gaze then moved to his wrecked JRX-92B. His beloved machine had just been destroyed, the rear buckled and folded from the impact.


    The sight of it made Luca drop his helmet. The helmet bounced across the asphalt and onto the racing line. As Y¨±ichir¨­ sped past, his right front tire kicked the helmet away, sending it skittering across the track.


    The crowd roared even louder!


    The loud screeching sound helped Luca recollect his memory of how the crash happened. He then looked at the other car glued to his own. Just as his rear was damaged, the Red Bull''s front was completely disheveled.


    The nose was crumpled like paper and the right side of the front wing was torn off. Even the tires were twisted grotesquely. It was clear that the Red Bull had suffered just as much, if not more, from the collision.


    And inside the cockpit sat the most placid individual currently in Shanghai. His hands were still confidently on the gamepad-looking wheel and his helmeted gaze had been long fixed on Luca even when he was exiting his cockpit.


    When DiMarco finally grabbed Luca''s attention, he calmly unbuckled himself from his Red Bull and stood up without worry as if he hadn''t just suffered a DNF.


    As soon as DiMarco''s feet touched the tarmac, Luca lunged forward. He quickly removed his balaclava like it was a skimask and approached DiMarco, meeting him face to helmet.


    "You crashed me on purpose, you bastard!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...oh my, the tension is reaching a boiling point here in Shanghai...!"


    "...LUCA RENNICK SQUARES OFF WITH DAVIDE DIMARCO...!"


    Luca''s hair was a mess, but it didn''t hide the anger in his eyes. DiMarco could see the rage, and he was satisfied with himself for being successful this afternoon.


    Mr. Matthews stood with his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the live footage of Luca storming toward DiMarco. His jaw was clenched, and he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for those near him to hear.


    "He shouldn''t do anything more. I just lip-read an insult," he said loudly to the entire team. "If he touches DiMarco, that''s a huge penalty. This can''t escalate, let''s get out there!"


    Marshals were already at the scene, and since they saw Luca break DiMarco''s personal space, they rushed to separate them to prevent any swings.


    Luca couldn''t even hear the crowd anymore, nor the announcement, or even the marshals telling him to step back. His focus was zeroed in on DiMarco''s visor.


    Luca couldn''t say he didn''t see this crash coming. DiMarco had been giving him concerns right from the beginning.


    "You know you crashed too, right?!" Luca spat at him, the marshals pulling him back. "Zero points for you still?! Who''s dumb here?!" S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Finally, DiMarco removed his helmet and balaclava, revealing a very handsome, masculine face that could charm any woman.


    He had blonde hair and hollow green eyes, a broad yet sharp jawline, and a natural frown for a mouth. His frown then turned into a smile as his cold eyes stared straight at Luca.


    "Sure, you''re right," he said proudly, tucking his helmet under his arm and claiming the stance of a knight. "This was just a stunt to educate a cretin like you. When I get my super engine, all lost points will be made up for."

 Chapter 314 - 314: Post-Chinese Grand Prix

    Luca and DiMarco''s DNF didn''t stop the Chinese Grand Prix, no matter the severity of the crash. A tiny wisp of flame was even spotted at the point of impact between both cars, but it was put out quickly.


    XXX¡ª Luca Rennick


    XXX¡ª Davide DiMarco


    The physical encounter between both drivers was a brief one, as marshals pulled them away from each other before things could get more heated than they already were.


    Many believed DiMarco had uttered something stunning, because Luca''s face was pale and perplexed as he was guided away from the wreckage.


    Eventually, some of Jackson Racing''s crew approached and gratefully accepted their driver from the caring hands of the marshals.


    DiMarco remained standing, admiring his handiwork before turning on his heel to walk across the track. While he did, he lifted his hands and clapped to the crowd. The crowd cheered and roared loudly at his gesture.


    What impression was he trying to make? That he had put on a performance worth applauding? That despite the wreckage, despite the DNF, he still believed himself to be the star of the show?


    The only spectators that clapped back were Velocit¨¤''s; the others roared in response, exclaiming that this wasn''t an honorable send-off for him and that he should stop clapping like a footballer subbed off after a match-winning display.


    When the circuit was cleared of all eliminated drivers, the marshals then focused on cleaning up their mess. It could take about fifteen minutes, considering how the wreckage had scattered debris across the tarmac.


    With carbon fiber shards littering the racing line and fluid stains marking the site of impact, the cleanup operation needed to be thorough before the race could resume.


    During this clean-up, an announcement was made concerning the incident. It turned out race control had conducted a scrutinized review of the entire thing and had a strong verdict to deliver.


    "...After a thorough review of the incident between Davide DiMarco and Luca Rennick, race control has determined that DiMarco was responsible for causing a collision. As a result, a 10-place grid penalty will be applied at the next Grand Prix..."


    There was a mixed reaction from everyone as the announcement was repeated in Mandarin. There were boos, cheers, murmurs, and protests, while most roared in satisfaction.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...Well, there you have it¡ªa 10-place grid penalty for Davide DiMarco at the United States Grand Prix. I have to say, that''s a pretty strong call from the stewards...."


    "...Strong? I''d argue it''s completely fair! DiMarco''s move was reckless. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he still went for it. Even his behavior after the incident¡ªa penalty was inevitable..."


    "...Right. Race control doesn''t just look at the crash itself. They consider sportsmanship, too. Rennick''s DNF must hurt the young man, considering this is his second F1 race. Zero points for him here in Shanghai..."


    "...DAVIDE HIMSELF, a Red Bull driver, sits at the bottom of the standings with zero points! And into Las Vegas, wherever he qualifies, he''ll be relegated ten positions. And how many points do you think he''ll finish the race with...?!"


    DiMarco, who was just entering his garage when the announcement was broadcast, simply smirked.


    --------


    As earlier said, the mishap didn''t prematurely conclude a Grand Prix that hadn''t been hosted for six years.


    After the red flags were lowered, racing continued¡ªstill breathtaking and thrilling. And fifty-two minutes later, 34 laps after, Rodnick crossed the finish line first when the sun had already descended.


    Antonio Luigi finished second, and the driver who began at pole, Hank Rice, completed the podium spots.


    "...P4, Jimmy Damgaard...!"


    "...P5, Denko Rutherford...!"


    "...P6, Marko Ignatova....!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Once again, Jackson Racing, currently the only Ferrari-powered team on the grid, was crowned victorious in another race.


    Although Rodnick finished in first place, it still didn''t seem like a win to them. Luigi and Ignatova had tallied up 26 points (18 + 8), which was a point more than Rodnick''s 25.


    Basically speaking, this was a win for Squadra Corse.


    Another unhappy team was Haddock Racing. In fact, they had arrived at the Chinese Grand Prix joyless, knowing that maximum points weren''t their fate this afternoon.


    Ailbeart Moireach was starting at P20, and Denko, who hadn''t driven since the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix last year, wasn''t totally reliable.


    At the end of it all, their drivers'' performances were remarkable because Ailbeart had finished in P10, and Denko in P5. But 11 points weren''t enough.


    Assuming Ailbeart hadn''t been disqualified in the qualifiers, their strategists predicted they would have been the team to merit the most out of the upheaval that occurred on track today.


    ------


    Final Race Standings ¨C Chinese Grand Prix


    ???? Top 10 Finishers:


    P1 ¨C Marcellus Rodnick ???????? (Jackson Racing) ???? +25pts


    P2 ¨C Antonio Luigi ???????? (Squadra Corse) +18pts (+1 FL)


    P3 ¨C Hank Rice ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix) +15pts


    P4 ¨C Jimmy Damgaard ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤) +12pts


    P5 ¨C Denko Rutherford ???????? (Haddock Racing) +10pts


    P6 ¨C Marko Ignatova ???????? (Squadra Corse) +8pts


    P7 ¨C Mikhail Petrov ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix) +6pts


    P8 ¨C Javier Montez ???????? (Outback Performance) +4pts


    P9 ¨C Desmond Lloyd ???????? (Velox Hispania) +2pts S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    P10 ¨C Ailbeart Moireach ???????? (Haddock Racing) +1pt


    ?Remaining Finishers:


    P11 ¨C J¨®zef Konarski ???????? (Alpine Swiss F1)


    P12 ¨C Alejandro Vasquez ???????? (Velox Hispania)


    P13 ¨C Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­ ???????? (Alpine Swiss F1)


    P14 ¨C James Lockwood ???????? (Nordvind Racing)


    P15 ¨C Erik Haas ???????? (Trampos Racing)


    ? DNF (Did Not Finish):


    P16 ¨C Ansel Hahn ???????? (Trampos Racing) ¨C Crash


    P17 ¨C Davide DiMarco ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤) ¨C Crash


    P18 ¨C Luca Rennick ???????? (Jackson Racing) ¨C Crash


    P19 ¨C Elias Nystr?m ???????? (Nordvind Racing) ¨C Crash


    P20 ¨C Luis Dreyer ???????? (Outback Performance) ¨C Tire Suspension


    -----


    It was as if Luca and DiMarco''s exit had given way for other drivers to gain valuable points that couldn''t have been attained otherwise.


    Rodnick, standing on the P1 podium, reveled in glory as the crowd''s thunderous cheers vibrated through the towering stands of the Shanghai International Circuit.


    Jackson Racing''s flag waved proudly in the breeze as he stood tall over his closest rivals, Luigi and Rice. A smile was on his face, knowing he was the conqueror of Shanghai¡ªthe driver who won the Grand Prix on its debut return after six years of absence from the F1 calendar.


    Without hesitation, he popped open the cork of the champagne bottle that had been handed to him.


    Meanwhile, Luca, who had since recovered from the slight concussion he suffered in the crash, was applauding Rodnick''s win along with the rest of the Jackson Racing crew.


    Even though Luca was clapping, he couldn''t help but feel frustrated. He was furious, not because his opponents were on the podium, but because he had lost all points in this race and was walking out with nothing.


    Now, he would be dethroned from the top of the standings to somewhere in the middle or just above.


    Luca''s system suddenly obstructed his view.


    [SYSTEM ONLINE...]


    [Host was unable to complete Sunday''s Daily Quest]


    Luca''s eyes widened as he realized it all.


    [Punishment for Failing Sunday''s Daily Quest:


    -Sore throat]


    [Issuing...]


    [Status: Issued]


    [Duration: 72 hours]

 Chapter 315 - 315: Post-Chinese Grand Prix. 2

    The following day, the FIA released an official statement addressing the incident that had unfolded on race day.


    It was clear that Davide DiMarco had deliberately intended to take Luca out of the race, and the Federation ensured this was publicly acknowledged to dispel any debates framing it as mere reckless driving.


    Alongside the penalty, DiMarco received an official warning, pushing his total race warnings to 9 out of 12.


    With only three warnings left, he faced the looming risk of a temporary suspension, or worse, the permanent revocation of his FIA driver''s license.


    Additionally, DiMarco was fined (€100,000), a hefty sum meant to reinforce the severity of his actions. However, in a surprising twist, Luca was also fined.


    His only mistake was letting his fury slip in the heat of the moment, spitting out the word "bastard" at DiMarco during their confrontation.


    While many deemed his outburst understandable given the circumstances, the Federation remained firm in upholding their regulations. The rules of verbal misconduct on track were clear and regardless of provocation, it warranted consequences.


    €10,000 ($11,000) wasn''t going to make any dent in Luca''s finances, so he quickly coughed it up and wiped his hands clean from the matter.


    By Tuesday, the case was almost resolved as Bueseno Velocit¨¤''s team principal addressed the media, breaking the team''s silence on the controversy.


    "First and foremost, we respect the FIA''s decision and accept the penalty handed to Davide. Rules exist to ensure fair competition, and as a team, we uphold them. What happened on track was unfortunate, and we never want to see incidents that take both cars out of the race.


    That said, Davide is a highly skilled driver who has given his all for this team. He races on the edge, as do many great drivers in history, but in this instance, he went over that edge. We have spoken to him internally, and he understands the gravity of the situation.


    However, let''s not ignore the bigger picture. Racing is emotional, it''s intense, and sometimes, in the heat of the moment, things escalate beyond what we intend. We trust Davide will learn from this and come back stronger. Our focus now is on moving forward, improving our performance, and ensuring we compete fairly and fiercely in the coming races like we always do."


    "Bollocks!" Mallow cried out. "I can see him kissing Davide''s foot in the background."


    Luca chuckled at the sight of Mallow ranting about the whole issue, especially how Luca had emerged fruitless from the Chinese Grand Prix after racing for almost thirty minutes.


    "Sometimes, I wonder," Luca began, his voice coming out as a hushed, strained whisper due to his sore throat. "Whenever you bluster like this, are you genuinely hurt by its effects on my racing or..." He paused, coughing. "...or my bonuses?"


    Mallow was flabbergasted. He stood still, trying to hold back his laughter. Not even a single word from Luca was clear. He sounded like a man who had swallowed gravel. His voice was so hoarse that it made Mallow''s earlier frustration dissolve into amusement.


    "How bad is it? Luca, I didn''t even hear a word."


    Luca cleared his throat and attempted to speak again, but the sound that escaped was even worse. Mallow burst into laughter, and even Manuela, who was attending to Luca, had to suppress hers.


    "I think he asked whether you''re complaining about his racing or his bonuses," Manuela said, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing outright. It was only the two of them who found it funny¡ªSara and Vance didn''t.


    At the moment, Manuela was helping Luca practice some exercises to soothe his sore throat, guiding him through gentle vocal stretches and encouraging small sips of warm honeyed water.


    Luca calmly complied, but he doubted anything could overturn the system''s influence. Even Jackson''s medical team, after exhausting all options, had defeatedly offered him some medication.


    "I guess I''m just extra concerned about your career, that''s all," Mallow said with a sigh. "It''s a golden one, and I''d be damned if another driver tried to stain it."


    Luca exhaled through his nose. He wanted to say something, but it came out as nothing more than hot breath.


    "So, I asked¡ªhow bad is it?"


    "At this rate," Manuela began, "your voice won''t make it through the F1 Monoposto session. The company needs your voice recordings, driving data¡ªthe whole package¡ªto get you into the next game edition."


    Mallow crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Oh! The gaming studio? The one for the PlayStation? Luca, we signed you to be in the next edition. How exactly do you plan on recording your team radio clips like this?"


    Luca wanted to speak, but he realized it would only come out sounding like a gearbox failure. Instead, he simply downed the rest of the honeyed water and stood up.


    Surely, Monoposto could spare him, but Luca knew the sore throat would be gone by the next afternoon, so he wasn''t concerned.


    What he wanted now was to return to London and start preparing for the U.S. Grand Prix, set for the same month of April.


    They returned to London on Thursday, and by then, Luca''s sore throat was gone.


    [Ding!]


    [Punishment for Failing Sunday Daily Quest


    -Sore Throat] S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Status: Lifted]


    As usual, Mrs. Rennick was full of dread and fright when Luca returned. The fear of a mother knowing her daughter was alone at school while her son played cards with death had gripped her by the throat the previous weekend.


    Luca was glad the sore throat had lifted before he met her; otherwise, she would have insisted it was somehow connected to the crash.


    He was a bit disappointed that he hadn''t completed the Daily Quest and earned those five Catalysts. They would have been a valuable boost.


    To end race week two, Luca relaxed comfortably in his villa. He had invited Isabella over, but only with Mr. Schafer''s approval was she allowed to come. Luca enjoyed the sight of her presence. Even if the second round had been anything but ideal, this sight made him feel fulfilled.

 Chapter 316 - 316: Monoposto

    Luca stepped out of the blacked-out SUV. His eyes immediately caught sight of the press clustered to one side of the premises, and he muttered something under his breath.


    It was a small group of journalists, but he knew they could still cause the same amount of stress.


    Manuela hastily stepped out of the car as well, almost tripping on her heels but quickly regaining her stance. Together, they looked up at the towering state-of-the-art building¡ªthe one and only headquarters of the FIA''s official game manufacturers, F1 Monoposto.


    F1 Monoposto was the undisputed leader in Formula racing game development. They had started as a small independent studio focused primarily on motorsport simulation¡ªGT racing, in particular.


    But over time, they gained widespread recognition, especially eleven years ago with Grand Prix Evolution, a groundbreaking release that revolutionized dynamic weather physics in racing games. To this day, it remained the best edition ever released.


    Six years ago, F1 Monoposto secured an exclusive licensing deal with the FIA Formula 1 organization, granting them the rights to produce the official F1 video game series.


    Since then, they had dominated the market, eclipsing smaller simulator manufacturers. Logically speaking, they had no competition.


    The FIA ensured that F1 Monoposto was available on PlayStation, Xbox, and PC platforms, providing a seamless cross-compatible experience for all gamers.


    Every update brought new changes. There''d be new things like telemetry data integration, improvements to the physics system, new circuits, and additional venues, all designed to elevate the experience and keep things fresh.


    The most recent development, however, was the introduction of machine learning AI. F1 Monoposto had partnered with all the F1 teams, ensuring each AI mimicked the real-world counterparts in their decision-making and strategies.


    The goal was to create an immersive, realistic simulation that could match the unpredictability and complexity of actual races.


    They also partnered with all F1 drivers¡ªLuca, no exception. He signed a deal with Monoposto the same week he became a Jackson Racing driver.


    Along with this, Monoposto also formed partnerships with all F1 drivers, and Luca was no exception. He signed a deal with Monoposto the same week he joined Jackson Racing, marking the start of a lucrative arrangement.


    For Luca, the deal felt effortless. He wasn''t even required to do anything beyond lending his name and face for marketing, which worked perfectly for him as it extended his reach beyond his actual racing career.


    As part of the agreement, F1 Monoposto conducted a detailed scanning process of every driver. Each individual on the grid was meticulously analyzed to capture their face, physique, driving style, and voice.


    This data was used to create hyper-realistic in-game versions of the drivers, counterparts that were as close to their real-world performances as possible.


    So, despite Luca''s face and name being plastered on posters, cards, and advertisements around the world, his in-game counterpart had yet to be integrated into F1 Monoposto.


    For this year''s Grand Prix Evolution VI, Luca wouldn''t appear in the game¡ªhe wasn''t ready yet. However, he would be available as a selectable driver or rival for gamers to face off against in the upcoming Grand Prix Evolution VII update.


    How cool!


    A valet approached Luca and his team. Dino didn''t even try but the young man trembled under his gaze as he greeted and welcomed Luca.


    Another lady was arriving, on sharp heels and black office pants. Her brunette hair was carried by the breeze and her steps grew brisk every second.


    "Mr. Rennick, welcome," she greeted, offering Luca a handshake. "I''m Maisie Gibson, your liaison for today. We appreciate you making time for this session. I imagine your schedule is quite packed."


    "It''s not too bad today," Luca replied, taking a good look around the spacious place. He was happy his voice was clear and back to normal, life had never felt better.


    Emily gestured toward the entrance far far away. "Let''s get you checked in. We''ve streamlined the process, so it''ll be quick."


    So, Luca and his team bounced to the building. The press wanted a word, but Maisie wasn''t having any of it. She quickly dismissed them and continued on their way.


    Soundless sliding automatic doors greeted them as they stepped inside, leading them into a spacious lobby where the Monoposto branding was subtly yet obviously woven into the d¨¦cor.


    The reception desk was manned by a young man in a tailored suit, who immediately acknowledged them with a wide smile.


    "Good afternoon, Mr. Rennick," he said smoothly and began tapping on his tablet on the desk. "You''re scheduled for the 2 PM session."


    "Correct," Maisie confirmed. "Could you confirm his clearance?"


    The receptionist nodded and his fingers moved purposefully on the screen. Luca remained quiet, his gaze idly dancing around the professional reception area while Manuela, standing beside him, searched for the right moment to interject.


    "Excuse me? But can I get a copy of his full schedule for today?" she asked with a firm tone. "I''d like to keep track of everything."


    The receptionist glanced up, meeting her eyes before offering a small nod. "Of course, Miss. I''ll send it directly to your email, or would you prefer a printed copy as well?"


    "Both, please," she replied without hesitation and told him her e-mail.


    Maisie admired Manuela''s commitment.


    After a while, the receptionist looked up and informed them that they were all set. Manuela received the schedule, nodded and offered her thanks.


    Luca nodded his own thanks as Emily led him past the reception desk and into the main corridor.


    The floors were polished so much into a sheen like crude oil, reflecting the soft glow of strategically placed LED lighting all around the place. It didn''t even look like a gaming company though.


    "You''ll notice Monoposto''s setup is very driver-oriented," Emily explained as they walked. "Every part of this facility is designed to refine the gaming experience, not just for the players but for the accuracy of how F1 is portrayed."


    "Each driver has a dedicated profile," Emily continued as they moved through hallways. Manuela was learning how to keep up with pace. "Your AI learns from your actual racing style¡ªhow you take corners, when you brake, how aggressive you are on the track. It''s all integrated to make your in-game counterpart as realistic as possible."


    Hmmm, I wonder how they''d actually simulate me¡ª me and Sync Buff! Will I actually become the highest rated F1 driver in F1 Monoposto?


    "So, if I''m an impatient driver in my overtakes, my Ai will do the same?"


    "Exactly," she confirmed with a smile. "And that''s why today''s session is important. The voice scans and behavioral calibration will bring your profile to life."


    Luca had once thought it was all about randomisation. But it seemed the racing games he used to play were actual codings, programming and strict systemization.


    They arrived at a secondary checkpoint where a security officer greeted them before scanning Luca''s credentials. The turnstile unlocked with a quiet beep, and they proceeded down a narrower corridor toward a set of doors labeled "Driver Integration Suite." S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The ambiance here was quieter, more refined, as though they were stepping into a high-tech laboratory.


    On the walls, Luca could see all official F1 drivers'' F1 Monoposto Driver Card.


    Dozens of them!


    Each official F1 driver had one! All sleek, all red, all black-edged and embedded directly into the wall. Luca had to stop moving to see everyone''s names alongside their respective teams.


    Wow, Luca thought. This is incredible!


    The rosters of all ten teams were here, proudly exhibited like trophies! Jackson Racing, Nordvind Racing, Outback Performance....


    Luca decided to check out some of the stats of the drivers he knew. It was a long wall with countless cards, so he couldn''t cover all at once, especially when he had something to do.


    His gaze moved across the names until it landed on one in particular¡ªElias Nystr?m.


    Nystr?m was good at claiming how good he was, so Luca was going to see for himself.


    Nystr?m was zipping up his racing suit in his card photo. It was a dope pose in Luca''s opinion, he wasn''t going to lie.


    ©°©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©´


    ©¦ F1 MONOPOSTO DRIVER CARD ©¦


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ ELIAS ????????


    ©¦ NYSTR?M


    ©¦ Nordvind Racing Audi


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ Experience: 75


    ©¦ Racecraft: 86


    ©¦ Awareness: 65


    ©¦ Pace: 81


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ Total Rating: 78 ??©¦


    ©¸©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¼


    Luca didn''t know what to make of it. He had no idea what the standard was, what was average and what was great. F1 Monoposto was different in their own ratings.


    He saw Y¨±ichir¨­''s card next, but Maisie was working with time as she stopped at a door. "This is where we do the groundwork before your actual scanning. You''ll get a rundown of the process, go over any details you''d like changed, and we''ll set up a whole month''s full integration session."


    Luca nodded.


    He paused, noting Maisie''s eyes were settled on Manuela. "Any problem?"


    "Not a problem, but it would be best if your personal assistant doesn''t follow. We need authenticity here."


    Manuela nodded rapidly. "I understand. I''d go wait in the lounge," she said curtly and left.


    Luca was flabbergasted at the quick exchange by the woman. He didn''t know what to say as Manuela walked down the hall, retracing her steps.


    Satisfied, Emily pressed a button, and the doors slid open. "After you."

 Chapter 317 - 317: Monoposto. 2

    As earlier said, prior to this day, Luca had already contractually agreed with F1 Monoposto on rights and agreements, NDA, and confidentiality to grant all necessary permissions.


    So, for the first day in the two long months of this process, Luca would carry out his physical appearance scan and voice recording.


    Inside the room, Maisie Gibson reached for yet another door before revealing the real workspace. It was anything but a room. It was a large space with the highest ceilings, the walls as white as a blank sheet of paper, and the atmosphere as chilly as the Arctic.


    The lighting in the place was very soft, enhancing the brightness of the vibrant white walls. As Luca studied the space, he could hear a soft rumble, a rumble like the hum of something mechanical. It was a bit too deep to be the air conditioning.


    "This is where it all starts, Mr. Luca. Every driver who''s been part of Grand Prix Evolution has stood in this very room."


    Unlike the empty hallways of the building, the room was actually filled with many workers, either moving about or seated calmly at their desks, clustered with monitors¡­ and PlayStation or Xbox consoles.


    Nice.


    Maisie gathered everyone''s attention, letting them know Luca Rennick was in the building.


    Immediately, they all left what they were doing and rushed to Luca with enthusiasm. Luca returned all of their greetings, handshakes, and even hugs for those who went to the extreme.


    The surroundings met Luca''s expectations, but he had been anticipating game developers dressed in white coats that matched the walls. However, the F1 Monoposto workers weren''t in white coats but in casual wear and even sneakers.


    Before they settled down, Luca took his time to view the things some of them had been obstructing before or working with. The place looked even larger now, considering their crowded state, with far ends and far ends here and there.


    To one far end, there was a complex rig of cameras, sensors, and screens, all arranged in a semi-circle. Luca guessed that was where he would be spending most of his time throughout today''s session.


    The major device in the place was a monitor¡ªthey were everywhere. The only distinction between them was what was being displayed on their screens. And these were just the monitors facing Luca; he had no idea what was going on with the others behind him or off to the side.


    For those facing him, Luca could only see complex wireframe models, previous driver scans¡ªor should he say¡­ "driver scans" of the workers themselves. How funny.


    Some showed rotating 3D models of helmets and suits, while others displayed adjustment parameters that Luca couldn''t make sense of.


    He knew he wasn''t here to be educated, but that didn''t mean he wasn''t curious and wouldn''t allow himself to learn a few things.


    Before they got started, the team there did a presentation, explaining everything to Luca on a more personal level than Maisie and even other previous F1 Monoposto personnel had.


    After that, they moved on to preparing Luca for the physical appearance scan. A specialist approached him for a light facial retouch. The cameras were extremely sensitive, so even minor changes in skin texture could show up in the final model.


    Eventually, Luca was ready, though he felt no different than when he had disembarked from his SUV.


    He stepped forward onto the circular platform at the center of the scanning rig. The semi-spherical structure he had seen earlier surrounded him with bright lights and cameras. The setup looked more like something from a high-tech laboratory than a gaming studio.


    First, they started with a neutral scan for a neutral expression. Then they moved on to some expressions known of F1 racers. Neutral. Smile. Angry. Focused. Podium laugh. Fatigued.


    It felt a bit weird to Luca, standing before a camera and making faces while others meticulously watched and worked. He wasn''t good at making faces, so he had many cuts and retakes. The flashing lights and the hum of the cameras went on longer than even the workers had expected.


    With time, they completed his 3D face scanning and expression capture. Moving on to the full-body scan, he was guided to stand on a larger scanning platform.


    Here, the cameras aligned better, focusing on his entire frame as if he were in a pod. There was a rotating base beneath his feet that would allow him to slowly spin 360¡ã while an array of scanners mapped his height, posture, and proportions down to the millimeter.


    Luca hadn''t expected the base to move¡ªmaybe he had missed that part when they explained everything. So when he staggered, it prompted everyone to laugh as they reassured him, giving him the confidence to stand firmly.


    Luca watched as a real-time digital wireframe of his body built itself on a monitor nearby, piecing together a near-perfect replica.


    "Next, we need an outfit scan," the technician said. "Normally, we''d scan you in full race gear, but today, we''re starting with the base model."


    So, Luca changed into a standard racing suit provided by the team. It was a generic version meant for initial captures and served well for the suits of retired drivers in the game. It was gray, bland, and had a simple text reading "F1 Monoposto" on the right chest.


    Once zipped in, he stepped back onto the platform. The process repeated, the cameras now capturing the fit, texture, and any natural folds that formed in the fabric as he moved like a ballet dancer.


    The final step for scans today was distinctive features.


    A technician approached with a handheld scanner. "Do you have any visible scars, tattoos, or defining marks that need to be mapped?" he asked, his eyes probing Luca.


    Luca shook his head as he stepped off the platform. "Nope. I have no tattoos."


    ------


    Luca had a forty-minute rest before they moved on to voice integration.


    He rested in a comfortable lounge within the facility, reuniting with Manuela, who seemed bothered by how long it was all taking.


    After having lunch, Luca returned with Maisie. A quick wave of depression hit him as he realized this was just day one out of several days scheduled.


    Getting his own avatar in-game was a great experience and wasn''t even physically demanding, but for now, Luca wanted to direct his mind toward his races.


    Luca had expected them to return to the same place, but for this activity, it was a different room¡ªa recording studio, in fact.


    It was darker here, and the walls looked soundproof.


    "Luca, this session is going to focus on voiceprint calibration and scripted line recording. We''ll save the dynamic reactions and radio simulations for another day," Maisie said as they approached the sound engineers.


    She duly introduced both parties, and they got to work without delay.


    A big bottle of water was nearby because Luca had a ton of words to say into the microphone. He was told not to stress it, and they''d pick up from where they left off next time.


    "Copy that, P1''s the goal"


    "I''m getting pressured from behind!" He even had to yell.


    "I think I have some front wing damage."


    "Yes! We got him!"


    "I''m going for it!"


    "I had no room to avoid contact!"


    "I''ve lost power!"


    "The brakes feel really bad."


    "This one is for the team!"


    "No! That was our race to win!"


    "It''s getting slippery out here."


    "Good job, team. We''ll get them next time."


    "Yes! What a race!"


    Luca even suggested "Simply lovely!"


    Since this was Grand Prix Evolution for consoles and not the simulations themselves, each driver had 100 to 300 lines. Luca only voiced about fifty today, his sore throat threatening to come back. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    They called it a day and thanked Luca for his cooperation. Before he even left the recording studio, Maisie Gibson showed him a photo on her phone.


    Displayed on the screen was a detailed 3D render of his face¡ªhis likeness in digital form. The visual team had wasted no time in putting together an early model, and despite the lack of textures and final polish, it was unmistakably him.


    Luca stared for a long time, chuckling in admiration. That was the most life-like 3D photo he had ever seen. He couldn''t believe the heights of technology F1 Monoposto had achieved.

 Chapter 318 - 318: Pre-US Grand Prix

    Luca was happy throughout the week. He actually imposed this happiness on himself, despite the DNF in China, because he understood he couldn''t let DiMarco''s dense actions and words infiltrate his life outside racing.


    This yoke of happiness he put on himself was shattered on the first practice day ahead of the US Grand Prix.


    Mr. Matthews made sure he appositely divulged the information to Luca in a manner that didn''t allow him to feel disappointed or sad immediately but rather commiserative and supportive of the team''s plans and progress.


    The US Grand Prix would be Luca''s first absent Formula 1 race. He would not participate in the Qualifiers, and he wouldn''t race in Neonway.


    The reason wasn''t the one Luca dreaded¡ªconcerning a bad performance¡ªbut because Jackson Racing''s strategists believed he was too much of a target so early into the season.


    DiMarco''s actions were obviously rooted in the fact that Luca had pressured him into a crash in Monte Carlo, and the veteran Italian sought revenge on him.


    Everyone considered the scenario if Luca hadn''t won the Monaco Grand Prix. If he hadn''t, it was likely that DiMarco wouldn''t be vexed. But he was, and the chances of other drivers being enraged by Luca''s unfamiliarity yet prosperity in the competition were high.


    His growing prominence would attract further hostility from others eager to make names for themselves¡ªlike Elias Nystr?m, whom he had indirectly crashed¡ªor from those who didn''t want a challenge to their reputation¡ªjust like Davide DiMarco.


    It was a difficult decision because Luca''s driving style was exactly what Jackson Racing wanted, but they had to sit him out of the US Grand Prix and put Di Renzo in his place.


    However, Di Renzo would prefer to rephrase this as a substitution rather than "in his place."


    Jackson Racing simply didn''t want to risk things. Di Renzo was a good driver, after all, and had solid races. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca remembered the Monoposto cards he saw the other day, and he recalled Di Renzo''s. It was actually rated quite lower than he expected. The total rating was affected by the first two stats¡ªExperience and Racecraft.


    ©°©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©´


    ©¦ F1 MONOPOSTO DRIVER CARD ©¦


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ BUOSO ????????


    ©¦ DI RENZO


    ©¦ Jackson Racing Ferrari


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ Experience: 62


    ©¦ Racecraft: 71


    ©¦ Awareness: 70


    ©¦ Pace: 85


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ Total Rating: 69 ??©¦


    ©¸©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¼


    Last season, Di Renzo had finished in 11th place. However, his performance must have improved significantly, as indicated by the upward arrows beside his total rating, signaling progress.


    Luca observed him and Rodnick closely as they drilled and trained, stepping in whenever necessary to integrate elements of competition into their practice.


    During the session, he managed to strike up a conversation with some of the younger drivers¡ªthose whose driver cards displayed a TR below 50.


    One of them was Tom, an eager 18-year-old with a TR of 47, always ready to prove himself. His enthusiasm was evident in the way he approached every lap, eager to make an impression.


    The other was Lucas¡ªthough everyone called him Petersen to avoid confusion with a new teammate who had a similar name.


    At 19, the same age as Luca, he had a TR of 44. His striking yellow hair, deeply dyed, made him stand out, and there was a sense that he was more interested in flaunting his looks than seriously pursuing an F1 career.


    Luca wondered how the third round of the season would play out in his absence. His fear of being left out while other drivers progressed had already come to pass. Now, he could only pray the team wouldn''t make the decision to field Di Renzo in the fourth round, the Bahrain Grand Prix.


    Luca''s mind drifted a bit. He wondered if Jackson Racing could ever come to the decision of putting both him and Di Renzo behind the wheel to team up in a race.


    This would mean sidelining Rodnick, the team''s star.


    Was this possible? Luca believed it was. It should be. Not just because of an injury or sickness, but an outright benching for team strategy.


    Jackson Racing wasn''t a Tiered Pursuit strategy team, so Rodnick was definitely prone to this someway, somehow.


    But with his P1 finish in China, Luca wagered that possibility was far from happening anytime soon.


    The drivers'' standings now looked like this after that baleful Chinese Grand Prix.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP8)


    Position | Team | Points


    ----------------------------------------


    1. | Marcellus Rodnick | 37


    2. | Antonio Luigi | 33 (+1)


    3. | Marko Ignatova | 26


    4. | Luca Rennick | 26


    5. | Hank Rice | 15


    6. | Jimmy Damgaard | 12


    7. | Ailbeart Moireach | 11


    8. | Denko Rutherford | 10


    Rodnick himself had just topped the standings, while Luigi was close behind. Though Luigi hadn''t won both races, he was the most consistent finisher with the most favorable positions, which was why he had 34 points.


    One race was enough to turn things upside down. Hank Rice, who had DNFed in Monaco, was now in the top five, surpassing Ailbeart Moireach, who had been relegated to 7th place.


    Additionally, Jimmy Damgaard, who suffered the same fate as Rice in the last race, now had 12 points to his name¡ªthe only points obtained by Bueseno Velocit¨¤ so far this season.


    Luca was glad that he was still in the competition, but that gladness faded when he remembered his points would remain unchanged after the next race while others climbed higher.


    Now, to the team standings.


    PROVISIONAL CONSTRUCTORS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (ALL 10)


    Position | Team | Points


    ---------------------------------------


    1. | Jackson Racing | 63


    2. | Squadra Corse | 59


    3. | Haddock Racing | 25


    4. | Iberia Grand Prix | 21


    5. | Outback Perf. | 12


    6. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ | 12


    7. | Nordvind Racing | 7


    8. | Velox Hispania | 4


    9. | Trampos Racing | 0


    10. | Alpine Swiss F1 | 0


    Some teams were still struggling for points while Jackson and Squadra were already locked in a different battle altogether.


    Luca expected a few changes, but more than anything, he wanted to see if his presence in the F1 competition would still be felt in his absence.


    The United States of America was a country Luca had always thought about but never once dreamed of visiting.


    Many praised it as a land of opportunity, a place where ambition and innovation flourished like nowhere else.


    But Mallow had a different perspective. To him, it was a bloated nation built on arrogance, the first one God would strike down if divine reckoning ever arrived.


    Luca was about to see for himself.


    US Grand Prix


    Location: Las Vegas, Nevada, USA


    Date: Apr. 21


    Time: 1 PM


    Track: Las Vegas Strip Circuit (Neonway)


    Track Length: 6.12 km


    Total Laps: 50


    Track Type: Street circuit


    Lap Record: Marco Rossi 1:36.149

 Chapter 319 - 319: US Grand Prix

    Luca arrived in Las Vegas, NV, in the country of the United States, feeling a bit nauseated after the long flight over the Atlantic Ocean.


    The United States was, in fact, a fascinating country¡ªfar more than Luca had expected. He had tried to keep an open mind, despite Mallow''s relentless efforts to fill it with disdain.


    There was an undeniable energy here, a ceaseless buzz that made everything feel alive. The infrastructure was impressive, the roads impossibly wide, and the people¡­ well, they carried themselves differently. Confidence? Arrogance? It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.


    But not everything sat well with him. Luca found it odd how casual everything seemed. Strangers spoke with unfiltered boldness, rules felt more like suggestions, and the sheer availability of, well, everything was overwhelming.


    There was a restlessness in the air, a constant need for motion, as if the country itself feared stillness.


    It was as though people here had been given so much freedom that they didn''t quite know what to do with it, mistaking excess for necessity, indulgence for identity.


    Mallow had always said the government had let its people off the leash long ago, and now they just ran wild.


    Luca wasn''t sure how much he agreed with that, but one thing he did know was that this untamed energy was exactly what made the United States the perfect place for a Grand Prix.


    Racing thrived on excess¡ªon speed that defied logic, on instincts honed through reckless ambition. The sheer hunger for entertainment here, the way people craved spectacle, guaranteed an electrifying atmosphere.


    Crowds would be loud, passionate, and relentless in their support or scorn, feeding the drivers with the kind of pressure that either crushed them or forged them into legends.


    Thursday hosted the first day of action. Qualifiers were carried out smoothly under the dazzling lights of the Las Vegas Strip Circuit, also known as Neonway because of its well-known history of being fixed as a night race.


    With Las Vegas known for being a nightlife city, the view of the US Grand Prix was often bathed in neon-blinding colors, a spectacle of speed and sensory overload.


    All the towering billboards bordering the track cast their glow onto the circuit, the asphalt reflecting a kaleidoscope of electric blues, scorching reds, and pulsating purples from no particular origin.


    From above, the track looked like a river of luminescence snaking through the heart of the city, its contours lined by the architectural maze of casinos, skyscrapers and high-rises.


    But for this year''s US Grand Prix, the race would be held in the middle of the day¡ªeven the qualifiers.


    That didn''t mean the track itself had changed. The layout remained identical, but gone was the dazzling allure of nightlife. And since it was a street circuit¡ªthough built on major roads, not narrow city streets¡ªit still had all the hallmarks of peak F1 competition.


    Additionally, in contrast to Circuit de l''¨¦toile, Neonway flourished in grandstands, racking up a surprising 70k seating capacity. That was the biggest for a street circuit!


    And so, the battle for pole position began right in the middle of the bustling city.


    Luca was to watch from the paddock¡ªthe worst seat in the venue, to be honest.


    Mallow, who wasn''t happy about Jackson''s decision, had asked Luca to join him in the suites to spectate both the qualifiers and the main race on Sunday.


    However, Luca refused with an obvious reason of being a responsible team member. He had to be present, even if it meant standing in the shadows while others took to the track.


    It added to team spirit, but beyond that, Luca knew every second spent observing, analyzing, and understanding the unfolding race dynamics could prove invaluable later in the season.


    He carefully watched as Di Renzo hopped into another Ferrari (JRX-92B). It was the same chassis and model as his own, but definitely not the exact same car. If anyone needed a reminder¡ªLuca had crashed his.


    But there was no real reason to worry. Jackson Racing had three more 92Bs stored as reserves for situations just like this. So, the next time Luca was back in action, he''d simply sync with a fresh chassis and pick up right where he left off.


    His level-up progress wasn''t something that physically altered the car. It was all stored within the system, separate from the machine itself.


    Meaning, if the FIA ever ran a deep dive on his chassis, they''d find nothing, because the moment Luca steps out of the cockpit, the car reverts back to its default stats.


    In short, Luca and his system wasn''t tuning the car; he was influencing it. The moment he switched to another chassis, he left the last one behind, wiping any enhancements along with it.


    He was, in essence, a walking hard drive, one that transferred performance, not hardware.


    So, if Di Renzo was stepping into a 92B, he was dealing with the car''s base stats:


    [Aerodynamics: 20


    Downforce: 24


    Braking Efficiency: 20


    Handling: 15


    Tire Wear Management: 15 ]


    [Gripper: 5]


    And not the refined specs that Luca had pushed and would even push further:


    [Aerodynamics: 21


    Downforce: 25


    Braking Efficiency: 21


    Handling: 18


    Tire Wear Management: 17 ]


    [Gripper: 9]


    On top of that, Di Renzo had no knowledge of the engine''s deeper functions. And since he had no clue they existed, there was no way he''d ever take advantage of them.


    Early on in the Qualifiers, the first wave of timed laps set the benchmark, with drivers cautiously testing the circuit''s limits under the coolair.


    Tire degradation wasn''t as punishing as in Monaco, but the artificial asphalt lacked the forgiving nature of classic tracks. The usual brave ones began to push early, while others like Rodnick were bidding their time. Di Renzo was among these brave ones. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    First elimination was quite the massacre.


    P16¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    P17¡ª Denko Rutherford


    P18¡ª J¨®zef Konarski


    P19¡ª Ansel Hahn


    P20¡ª Erik Haas


    As Q2 commenced, the tension thickened especially when Marko spun out and almost crashed into Turn 8. It totally disrupted his rhythm into his flyer and before he could rebuild that for another good flyer, time wasn''t on his side.


    As a good driver, he was able to salvage though. And Di Renzo, who was given the same strategized advice on P11, took it to the end of Q2


    P11¡ª Buoso Di Renzo


    P12¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P13¡ª James Lockwood


    P14¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P15¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    Then came Q3, where the elite took center stage.


    Engines screamed in protest as every driver went all-in, each sector a high-stakes gamble. The fastest time kept tumbling, broken again and again as the contenders fought tooth and nail for supremacy.


    Luca''s throat tightened as he kept watching DiMarco hold the fastest lap. He doubted the punk would have it if he were on the track himself.


    Tsk! Luca really wished he could be part of this US Grand Prix. Even if DiMarco claimed pole in these qualifiers, his penalty would drop him ten spots to P11. But when Luca remembered the advantages of that position, he cursed and prayed for a different outcome.


    As the afternoon ended, the cars came to rest, the grid set as team principals left their garages to shake hands with one another.


    Luca stepped out of Jackson''s garage too, after congratulating Rodnick and Di Renzo on their strong driving. A massive skyscraper, as wide as a mountain, cast its shadow over the pitlane and surrounding areas, blocking the warm sun. He took a deep breath and joined the rest of the motorsport community on the track.


    Luca glanced around, deciding where to begin the post-race sportsmanship activities. His eyes landed on Trampos'' garage and the figures moving about there. With another sigh, he looked elsewhere.


    P1¡ª Hank Rice


    P2¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P3¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    P4¡ª Luis Dreyer ¡ü


    P5¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ü


    P6¡ª Desmond Lloyd ¡ü


    P7¡ª Javier Montez ¡ü


    P8¡ª Mikhail Petrov ¡ü


    P9¡ª Elias Nystr?m ¡ü


    P10¡ª Buoso Di Renzo ¡ü


    P11¡ª Jimmy Damgaard ¡ü


    P12¡ª James Lockwood ¡ü


    P13¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ý


    P14¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P15¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    P16¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    P17¡ª Denko Rutherford


    P18¡ª J¨®zef Konarski


    P19¡ª Ansel Hahn


    P20¡ª Erik Haas

 Chapter 320 - 320: US Grand Prix. 2

    The US Grand Prix concluded in a fashionable manner, fresh flags waving, and a different set of spectators found their voice.


    It was a close P1 finish for Luis Dreyer, but he managed it, speeding right when necessary and securing the win over Rodnick, who finished in P2.


    It was anything but a photo finish, yet the moment Luis Dreyer crossed the finish line with his Red Bull, the entire crowd erupted as if a jackpot had just hit on the Strip.


    In Jackson Racing''s garage, however, the atmosphere was anything but celebratory. Mr. Matthews and the entire crew were frozen in disbelief. Even Luca couldn''t believe how Dreyer had managed to escape Rodnick in the final turns, maintaining P1 even after Rodnick used his slipstream.


    The team and Rodnick had expected a different outcome¡ªa more dominant one, like in China. But Dreyer had outpaced him when it mattered most.


    **We let that slip!**


    "...P2, Marcellus Rodnick...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...P1, Luis Dreyer...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    **YOU DID IT, LUIS!!! YEAH! HAAHAA!**


    Luca hadn''t realized just how much the United States backed Outback Performance F1. He had always assumed that, being an Australian team, their loudest cheers would come from Melbourne or Sydney. But here, in Las Vegas, it felt like a home race for most of them.


    Maybe some of Outback''s ownership were American, or maybe, it was Dreyer, who had once raced in IndyCar before leaping to F1. Perhaps, the American fanbase had followed him with unwavering loyalty. Luca couldn''t really tell the reason.


    Whatever the reason, this was no ordinary celebration. It was a full-blown festival to celebrate their first Grand Prix claim in a while. Montez had finished in P9, so this was quite the third round of the season for them.


    During the post-race celebrations, Luca found himself walking up to Dreyer to offer congratulations. It hadn''t been his original plan¡ªhe had no real interest in exchanging words with the Outback driver¡ªbut when he spotted Dreyer speaking to the press while making his way through one of the tunnels inside the building complex, Luca figured it would be the right thing to do.


    After all, he hadn''t raced today, so there was no immediate frustration or rivalry clouding his mind. Plus, with the cameras rolling, a public show of sportsmanship would only reflect well on him.


    However, the moment Luca stepped forward, he regretted it. The interaction was brief¡ªas intended¡ªbut the tone of it was something else entirely.


    "Hello, Luis?"


    "Ohh... hello, Luca?"


    A firm handshake followed.


    "Congratulations on your win. It''s a big one," Luca said.


    Dreyer''s eyes moved up and down with a bleak expression, except for the subtle hint of disdain in the way he took in Luca''s height advantage. "I know, thanks," he replied. "Exactly what you missed out on."


    Luca didn''t need a translator to figure out what Dreyer was implying. The jab was obvious. Outback had fought to sign him, and he''d indirectly turned them down. Now, Dreyer was making it sound like he''d missed his golden opportunity.


    Luca only chuckled, not bothering with a response. He walked away, leaving Dreyer to his moment.


    But as he did, he caught the reporters'' expressions. They were all sharp, clever and knowing. They had clocked it instantly.


    Seriously? One win, and Dreyer thought he had something over him? Like Luca was supposed to be kicking himself for not signing with Outback?


    That was ridiculous. He had his own P1 finish this season, and last he checked, one victory didn''t crown a champion.


    Only now did Luca begin to truly grasp Mr. Matthews'' words on suffocative hostility. He decided to focus ahead because his rivals now had the upper hand with points.


    ------


    Final Race Standings ¨C Chinese Grand Prix


    ???? Top 10 Finishers:


    P1 ¨C Luis Dreyer ???????? (Outback Performance) ???? +25pts


    P2 ¨C Marcellus Rodnick ???????? (Jackson Racing) +18pts


    P3 ¨C Hank Rice ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix) +15pts


    P4 ¨C Antonio Luigi ???????? (Squadra Corse) +12pts


    P5 ¨C Ailbeart Moireach ???????? (Haddock Racing) +10pts (+1 FL)


    P6 ¨C Elias Nystr?m ???????? (Nordvind Racing) +8pts


    P7 ¨C Davide DiMarco ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤) +6pts


    P8 ¨C Buoso Di Renzo ???????? (Jackson Racing) +4pts


    P9 ¨C Javier Montez ???????? (Outback Performance) +2pts


    P10 ¨C Marko Ignatova ???????? (Squadra Corse) +1pt


    ?Remaining Finishers:


    P11 ¨C Desmond Lloyd ???????? (Velox Hispania)


    P12 ¨C Alejandro Vasquez ???????? (Velox Hispania)


    P13 ¨C Jimmy Damgaard ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤)


    P14 ¨C Denko Rutherford ???????? (Haddock Racing)


    P15 ¨C J¨®zef Konarski ???????? (Alpine Swiss F1)


    P16 ¨C Alejandro Vasquez ???????? (Velox Hispania)


    P17 ¨C Ansel Hahn ???????? (Trampos Racing)


    P18 ¨C Mikhail Petrov ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix)


    P19 ¨C Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­ ???????? (Alpine Swiss F1)


    P20 ¨C Erik Haas ???????? (Trampos Racing)


    -----


    Fortunately, there were no crashes in the US Grand Prix, so no one was boosted by the downfall of other drivers. This was the final leaderboard of a standard, safe F1 race. Sear?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    DiMarco had earned his first points of the season¡ª6. Luigi finished in P4, unable to overtake Rice, with Ailbeart pressing behind him. And finally, Di Renzo, said to be Luca''s sub, finished in P8.


    Just like Luca said, he wished he had been part of this race. He saw many openings in the top five that only a driver like him could have seized. That was why Hank Rice barely moved from his position throughout the race.


    Great news finally came Luca''s way upon their return to London.


    After much consideration, it was believed that it''d be best for the team if Luca got back on track with his exceptional driving skills. So, this meant he would drive in Bahrain!


    Such wonderful news to Luca¡ªhe literally lifted Isabella to the ceiling when he received the call from Mr. Matthews.


    The Bahrain Grand Prix? Wow.


    Luca remembered missing out on the race in Sakhir last year when Trampos fielded Ansel and Haas, due to Haas'' contract stating he had to participate in two races minimum in one season.


    This year, Luca wasn''t going to be sidelined. He was going to take on the 50-lap race. It had been 44 laps before, but the recent construction had just stretched it to a standard 50.


    Bahrain Grand Prix


    Location: Sakhir, Bahrain


    Date: May. 3


    Time: 3 PM


    Track: Bahrain International Circuit


    Track Length: 5 km


    Total Laps: 50


    Track Type: Permanent road course


    Lap Record: Davide DiMarco 1:30.126

 Chapter 321 - 321: Pre-S2 Bahrain Grand Prix

    The fourth round of the season arrived swiftly, with the prestigious country of Bahrain set to host the spectacle.


    The relentless schedule had the entire F1 community¡ªdrivers, teams, personnel, and even fans¡ªconstantly on the move, barely catching their breath before hopping onto the next flight.


    Freight shipments were nonstop, paddocks were dismantled and rebuilt in record time, and engineers barely had a moment to analyze data before new track conditions demanded their attention.


    Fatigue, tension, and excitement formed a strange combination. And, funny enough, this was only the fourth round, with sixteen more to go. And May, the new month, would contain THREE races!


    That was the most integrated into a single month, and it turned out May wouldn''t even be the only month with that structure on the calendar.


    The US Grand Prix was now in the past, a race to reflect on¡ªanalyze mistakes, fine-tune strategies, and recalibrate focus. Lessons learned there would carry over into Bahrain, a track that demanded both patience and aggression in just the right measure.


    There was no time to dwell. The next challenge had already arrived.


    Into the fourth round, the standings had changed, with competitors becoming more revealing and threatening. With time, the standings would take on the full shape of an F1 table in the heat of the season.


    Luca envisioned his name at the top by that time.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP10)


    Position | Team | Points


    ------------------------------------


    1. | Marcellus Rodnick | 55


    2. | Antonio Luigi | 46


    3. | Luis Dreyer | 33


    4. | Hank Rice | 30


    5. | Marko Ignatova | 27


    6. | Luca Rennick | 26


    7. | Ailbeart Moireach | 21 (+1)


    8. | Elias Nystr?m | 14


    9. | Jimmy Damgaard | 12


    10. | Denko Rutherford | 10


    Luca had officially been kicked out of the top five, and his teammate, Rodnick, was at the top, reveling in glory with a nine-point lead over Luigi. Just perfect.


    For Rodnick, the season was now starting to go well. This was the title defense he had hoped for, and he was getting it.


    PROVISIONAL CONSTRUCTORS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (ALL 10)


    Position | Team | Points


    -----------------------------------------


    1. | Jackson Racing | 86


    2. | Squadra Corse | 72


    3. | Haddock Racing | 35


    4. | Iberia Grand Prix | 36


    5. | Outback Perf. | 39


    6. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ | 18


    7. | Nordvind Racing | 15 Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    8. | Velox Hispania | 4


    9. | Trampos Racing | 0


    10. | Alpine Swiss F1 | 0.


    Qualifying Day. Thursday.


    Bahrain was still as beautiful as Luca remembered. Back then, he had been so focused on Trampos'' loss of points due to his sidelining that he hadn''t taken the time to truly digest the beauty of the nation.


    As breathtaking as Dubai, the beautiful country where towering skyscrapers lined the coastline, reflecting the deep blues of the Persian Gulf.


    The circuit was located in the arid expanse. So, literally speaking, the venue, the track, the tarmac snaked through the desert.


    Standing at the edge of their garage, Luca watched the sun blaze over the circuit. The heat pressing down was quite discomforting, and all the facilities in the circuit had taken on a sheen. Even the asphalt itself was absorbing the heat and radiating it back like a furnace.


    Luca reckoned tire degradation would be brutal. Rubber would soften, wear faster, and demand more caution through the long, sweeping corners of 5, 7, 11, and 12.


    Brakes, already strained by the heavy stop-start nature of the track, would need extra cooling measures, lest they overheat and fail at the worst possible moment.


    Even engines were prone to the effect of the desert''s wrath, and this was when Luca smiled with realization, knowing this was where his engine feature would favor him over others.


    A sharp voice crackled through the speakers, breaking the tension in the paddock.


    "Attention all teams¡ªqualifying will commence in fifteen minutes. Drivers, prepare for track entry."


    Jackson Racing was taking a different approach in this Qualifying for the Bahrain Grand Prix. This time, Luca would enter the track early in pursuit of the fastest lap, while Rodnick would join at the time Luca usually entered in the past few Qualifiers.


    Pitstops were allowed in Qualifying since it was a racing session as well. Anyone could choose to pit for fresh tires and go again for the fastest lap.


    So, Luca, who was going on track early, was going to have one pit. The heat in the air and the earliness of his entrance would contribute to working out the tires by around 15 minutes into Q1.


    Whether he had acquired pole or was P20, it didn''t matter. He was going to visit the pits for maintenance assurance.


    Rodnick, however, would not. His later entrance wouldn''t require a pitstop, although his soft tires would be in the worst possible state by the end of Q1.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Ferrari (JRX-92B]


    "Alright, let''s see what we can do."


    "This is my first time on the Bahrain track. I''ll need a lot of help. Everything I see is unfamiliar, and I didn''t even have enough time to fully study the aerial footage. Dammit."


    [Generating....]


    [Successfully generated.]


    [NOTE: This is an ASCII art of the analyzed track]


    [....----T4----.


    / \\


    T3--'' ''---T5----.


    / T6-T7


    T2 |


    \\ T8


    T1 |


    \\ T9-T10


    ''--T15----T14----T13--''.....]


    Luca was just finding out he could get a general view of the track from the system if he wanted. This was perfect!


    Now, he could foresee the entire track structure before approaching it, and know exactly what modules and how much throttle he needed to apply through each turn and straightaway to favor his entrance of the following one.


    As the Qualifiers began, it was no surprise to him when he saw DiMarco among the early pushers. The sight of him in his cockpit, his head hidden inside his helmet as he cracked his neck, was a bit traumatic.


    The memory of everything that happened in China lingered in Luca''s stomach, almost making him sick. He couldn''t believe he had just begun a rivalry with a seasoned F1 racer. This made him wonder just how many he would have by the time he was 25.


    Luca shifted his focus to the desert beyond the track, the heat reigning down like waves from a ball of fire directly above them.


    When the first turn approached, T1 on the system map switched from gray to green, indicating that this was where he currently was.


    [Turn type: Tight Left-hander ] [Angle: 70¡ã] [Braking Point: 120 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 130 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]

 Chapter 322 - 322: Pre-S2 Bahrain Grand Prix. 2

    The Qualifiers for the Bahrain Grand Prix kicked off as a tactical chess match, with every team, including Jackson Racing¡ªand Luca himself¡ªplaying their part.


    Luca''s choice to go out early in Q1, hoping to clock a fast lap before the rising heat degraded the tires, proved successful, giving him a solid performance before the track conditions worsened.


    To his surprise, he not only secured but held the fastest lap in Q1!


    1. Luca Rennick ? 1:36.867 (+0.000)


    2. Ailbeart Moireach? (+0.032)


    3. Davide DiMarco ? (+0.171)


    The drivers eliminated from Q1 weren''t new names. It was still the same group, the ones who always seemed stuck at the back, unable to break free from the cycle. No matter how much they pushed, how hard they tried, it was always the same outcome.


    It was a bit depressing.


    Since Qualifiers weren''t about overtaking and real race action, the difference between chassis capabilities was on full display. The raw distinction was exposed, the very reason they would end up as backmarkers most of the time.


    16. Alejandro Vasquez? (+1.781)


    17. Jacob Jakobsen ? (+1.842)


    18. Ansel Hahn ? (+1.997)


    19. J¨®zef Konarski ? (+2.131)


    20. Erik Haas ? (+2.451)


    Alpine had substituted Y¨±ichir¨­ with Jakobsen. The reason was definitely for a better strategy to get points. But it was a strange substitution in Luca''s eyes. According to statistics, although both Alpine Swiss F1 main drivers were anything but spectacular so far this season, Y¨±ichir¨­ was still better over Konarski.


    It wasn''t Luca''s place to judge anyway.


    Into Q2 back on Thursday, Luca didn''t attain the fastest lap, but he did survive elimination. It was Rodnick who hit the fastest lap, seconded by DiMarco and Jimmy Damgaard.


    Rodnick had taken a different approach, waiting until later in the session to make his mark. The track had improved by the time he set his lap, and Rodnick took full advantage of the fresher tires, ultimately claiming P1 for Q2.


    A stunning crash from Petrov had him disqualified, and on Sunday, he was set to start at the back of the grid.


    When Q3 began, Luca had thought he wouldn''t have a competitive flying lap score because of the way he had begun. Traffic wasn''t on his side, forcing him to lift off the throttle at critical moments. His tires, still needing the perfect temperature, weren''t biting into the track the way he wanted.


    His first attempt was scrappy, a little bit decent but not enough to threaten the top spots. The pressure mounted, and with time running out, he knew he had to nail his final lap.


    He eventually found his rhythm as the hot track cleared slightly. With the help of the system, he threaded the needle through the corners, took on the straights and by the time he crossed the line, the timing board flashed a result far better than he had expected.


    1. Luca Rennick ? 1:35.561 (+0.000)


    **Pole freaking position! C''mon! Good job!**


    [Good job, host. You have secured a pole position]


    Luca''s heart raced when he realized that it was his first-ever pole position in Formula 1. A wave of triumph surged through him knowing this was an achievement, or even better¡ªa reward.


    The thought of starting the race from the front was a huge confidence boost. Pole position meant control, and control meant he could dictate the pace right from the beginning.


    Using Grid Launch to begin the race would also add to this advantage. Early throttle, get as far as possible from Moireach who qualified for P2, and then switch to the best defense F1 would ever see.


    P1¡ª Luca Rennick


    P2¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P3¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P4¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P5¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P6¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P7¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P8¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P9¡ª Denko Rutherford


    P10¡ª Desmond Lloyd


    P11¡ª Hank Rice


    P12¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P13¡ª James Lockwood


    P14¡ª Javier Montez


    P15¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    P16¡ª Jacob Jakobsen


    P17¡ª Ansel Hahn


    P18¡ª J¨®zef Konarski


    P19¡ª Erik Haas


    P20¡ª Mikhail Petrov


    Luca wondered just how much his Pole Position securement vexed his rivals, especially Davide DiMarco.


    Imagine deliberately crashing your rival to "teach him a lesson". He misses one round because of your actions¡ªa win for you¡ªbut returns the following round and claims pole. Such a backhanded slap!


    Luca was sure DiMarco would do anything to have both of them square one-on-one again since he was going to start in P3, not so far away from pole.


    Other notable rivals were Luigi at P4, Rice at P11, Marko at P8, Dreyer at P12. We shouldn''t forget Rodnick too, who qualified for P7 on Thursday.


    Luca loved the statement one F1 analyst uttered about him. "A rookie in Formula 1 isn''t supposed to bend the veterans to his will. But Luca Rennick is kneeling them, one by one."


    "...WELCOME TO THE FORMULA 1 BAHRAIN GRAND PRIX...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The Bahrain International Circuit¡ªone of the most technologically advanced racing venues in the world¡ªwas alive with energy. It had always been an impressive venue, but with its recent expansions pushing the seating capacity from 80k to a staggering 100,000, the sheer scale of the crowd was overwhelming.


    The roar of the fans reverberated across the desert, merging with the sounds of single-seater-related machinery humming from all the garages.


    Chants grew, chants died. Luca could hear every single one of them as he replied to questions from the press.


    They all wanted to know what he was going to execute this afternoon with his first F1 pole and after a race absence following a drastic crash and controversy.


    "Would you like to respond to Davide''s words?"


    Respond? Why is everyone saying things against me? I don''t even know of this one!


    Luca took a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips. "What did he say?" he asked.


    The reporter, sensing an opportunity for a headline, adjusted his mic and cleared his throat. "Back in China, after your crash, Davide was quoted saying, ''I was just testing out the strength of his chassis, y''know. I guess it''s not that tough, cheers.''"


    Luca''s expression didn''t change immediately. He processed the words, replaying them in his mind, dissecting their arrogance, their sheer lack of remorse.


    Fucking cunt, he cussed inwardly.


    "Luca? Are you still there?"


    Luca nodded. "Yes. Yes I am."


    "So, any response?"


    Luca shook his head. "No, not at all. I only let my driving speak for me," he said and turned down other questions before leaving the booth.


    He exhaled sharply and flexed his fingers as he stepped out into the open wild air of flags and banners. His system''s interface suddenly covered his view. When Luca glanced at the sun, it was almost invisible.


    [Ding!]


    [Daily Quest has been Issued!]


    Luca squinted his eyes to read the rest.


    [-¡¤-EMERGE FIRST OUT OF THIS 50-LAP RACE-¡¤-] S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [DURATION: nil]


    [Rewards....

 Chapter 323 - 323: S2 Bahrain Grand Prix

    "...P5, Jimmy Damgaard...!"


    "...P4, Antonio Luigi...!''


    "...P3, Davide DiMarco...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...P2, Ailbeart Moireach...!"


    "WOOOOH!"


    "...Pole Position, Luca Rennick...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "¡­A historic moment for Luca Rennick as he starts today''s Bahrain Grand Prix from pole! His first-ever Formula 1 pole position¡ªa massive statement for Jackson Racing, especially with their defending champion, Marcellus Rodnick, down in P7. It''s a mixed bag for the team, but for Rennick, this is exactly the kind of breakthrough they''ve been waiting for..."


    "¡­Of course, pole position is one thing¡ªholding onto it is another. For a rookie like Rennick, the pressure is immense. Right behind him is Ailbeart Moireach, desperate for points, and just a little further back is Davide DiMarco. And we all know there''s no love lost between him and Luca. I wouldn''t be surprised if we see a shake-up at the front..."


    "¡­That''s a fair prediction, Alex. But if there''s one thing we''ve learned, it''s that Rennick isn''t easily rattled. Starting the season with a win at Monaco had him right in the mix for the championship fight, but a difficult few rounds have dropped him to 6th in the standings. If he doesn''t capitalize on today''s pole, getting back into the top five could be a real challenge..."


    "¡­Same goes for Ailbeart Moireach, who sits just behind him in the standings and would love nothing more than to leapfrog Rennick..."


    6. | Luca Rennick | 26


    7. | Ailbeart Moireach | 21 (+1)


    "¡­And then there''s Davide DiMarco. His season has been nothing short of a disaster so far, and he''s not even in the top 10. But make no mistake¡ªhe''s aggressive, he''s desperate, and he''s starting close enough to make things difficult..."


    "..All three of these drivers at the head have something to prove today, and we''re in for an absolutely thrilling race..."


    Jackson Racing''s strategy set out to help Luca win P1 in the Bahrain Grand Prix was mainly focused on... tires.


    How strange, but very important. Starting from pole was a huge advantage, but it was never just about maintaining that position at the start¡ªmeaning P1 from the 1st lap to P1 at the last lap. Nope. It was about how Luca would manage the race on his own accord.


    Luca would start on hard tires, the same compound he''d used during qualifying. It was a good sole decision because hard tires would give Luca the best durability at the start of the race.


    The heat of the desert was unforgiving, and tire degradation would be a huge problem, especially through the long, sweeping corners. Starting on hard tires would give Luca the necessary grip while ensuring they could withstand the early laps. He would gain a lot of distance before he needed to worry about tire wear.


    However, this distance wasn''t going to be as long as known for hard compounds. Luca was going to take an early pit and catch the rival teams and drivers off.


    At this pitstop, he would switch to medium tires. Medium tires were compounds that offered a middle ground between performance and longevity. The medium tires would provide a little more speed than the hard compounds, allowing him to capitalize on the clean air and fresh rubber.


    The advantage of medium tires was their ability to offer a balance of durability and grip. This would help him cover a longer stint than the softs, providing the strategic advantage of not needing to pit as frequently as those who went for the quicker but more fragile tires.


    At the end, Luca could end up with just a single pitstop, but he would finish the race with tires that would literally be on fire.


    P1 was priority. Luca wasn''t going to hear otherwise. The rewards from the system''s assigned Daily Quest were jaw-dropping. Luca wouldn''t know what to make of himself as the host if he failed a race-related Daily Quest twice in a row.


    [Reward for Completing Saturday''s Daily Quest: (EXP)


    -Downforce +1


    -Handling +1


    -Tire Wear Management +1


    Reward for Completing Saturday''s Daily Quest: (Tools)


    - (5) Catalysts


    - (2) Wrenches


    [Consequence for Failing Saturday Daily Quest: Punishment


    -Rashes.]


    This felt like a free gift to Luca that he couldn''t fathom. He wondered if he would be rewarded an extra tool or tools apart from these when he won the race.


    For now, these 5 Catalysts and 2 Wrenches were enough to take him to the next tier of Professional Bundle.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Ferrari (JRX-92B]


    Before hopping into their cars, Luca could see the cloud over Rodnick''s head. It was clear that he wasn''t happy with the qualifying results, having qualified for P7, away from the top five. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca thought that was indeed selfish. This was the same driver currently leading the driver''s standings and his team¡ªtheir team¡ªleading the Constructor''s standings.


    It would be an act of self-consciousness and understanding to let the stark reality of competition surface once in a while. Luca began to wonder if Rodnick believed his title defence would be as smooth as sliding over tiles.


    Even the possibility of one driver finishing in the bottom five in all races from the first round to the final round was very low. So, the same goes for the upper part of the grid.


    "...here in Sakhir, the tension is palpable as the cars begin to roll out onto the grid for what promises to be an exciting race ahead...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca cracked his neck and flexed his fingers on the wheel, fully claiming his spot at the front-most gridbox. The marshals waved him into place, nodded, and he returned the gesture.


    Seconds later, he felt Ailbeart''s presence beside him, his Renault emitting this kind of mechanical growl, not really deep. Luca didn''t look to his side; he only stared at the mirrors, watching others line up down to the horizon that met the blazing sun.


    The crowd roared as the first red light flashed on. Luca''s focus shifted like a lion that spotted its prey. He moved his butt into the most comfortable position, the third light appearing within seconds.


    Before the whole motorsport community knew it, the fourth round of the season was underway¡ªthe Bahrain Grand Prix.


    [Grid Launch +1]


    "...the lights go out! And Luca Rennick rockets off the line with a monstrous start! The Mazerunne surges forward, leaving everyone in his dust. Ailbeart Moireach is left reaching for nothing but air as Luca blazes into Bahrain...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    **Good start, mate. Good start**


    [Turn type: Tight Left-hander ] [Angle: 70¡ã] [Braking Point: 120 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 130 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    Luca expertly took the inside line of the left-hander. Bahrain was strange with its left-sided track when most tracks were right-sided.


    It was an open track, no chicanes, no real track danger, but navigating it might cause some peril.


    Out of Turn 1...


    [Turn type: Medium Left-hander ] [Angle: 60¡ã] [Braking Point: 80 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 150 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    "... Rennick holds the lead, but Ailbeart''s Renault appeared to be faster on that brief connection between Turn 1 and Turn 2...!"


    [2nd Position closing in]


    Luca''s Spatial Awareness spiked like a voice graph, seeing Ailbeart Moireach throw his car into Turn 2 like he did to Miles Bellingham in the Italian Mega Prix.


    What the heck! This is just the first lap!


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The crowd erupted in a roar as Moireach launched his car into a wild move, snatching the second position away from Luca in a heartbeat. It was a ruthless, calculated maneuver.


    "... AILBEART MOIREACH TAKES P1...!"


    "...CAN HE MAINTAIN IT....?!"


    For a moment, it seemed like Ailbeart had it all under control. But the pressure of the move quickly caught up with him. The momentum of his aggressive dive forced him wide, and Moireach''s rear end swung out of track boundaries. Such an unforced error that would cost him.


    Luca watched in surprise as Moireach slipped, his Renault leaving an opening that was too big to ignore. With the track clearing in front of him, Luca didn''t hesitate.


    He rocketed forward, taking advantage of the misstep. The leaderboard shifted again as Luca, now with the racing line open, retook P1 from Moireach.


    "... AND RENNICK RECLAIMS HIS POSITION...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The leaderboard snapped back to its original state, Luca at the front where he had started, but the battle for the lead had only just begun. Meanwhile, the middle of the pack was already seeing significant movement.


    [2nd Position]


    [1st Position]


    [Turn type: Medium Right-hander ] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 110 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 130 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]

 Chapter 324 - 324: S2 Bahrain Grand Prix. 2

    Contrary to Luca''s expectations, the Bahrain Grand Prix was the smoothest official race he had driven in his life. No F2 race had ever been this peaceful for him. As the laps kept ticking by, he found himself sinking deeper into utter disbelief.


    All three sectors unfolded before him again and again, a repeated pattern with the most eerie calm he had ever experienced. The pressure of navigating corners and the pressure of aggressive competitors were nowhere to be found for Luca, even as the race crossed a quarter.


    The quietness of it all made him more aware of the situation. The crowd seemed to roar louder and the heat of the desert appeared to be more intense now, conflicting with his Heat Management feature.


    It was rare for things to come so easily in F1, especially for a rookie. Even Mr. Berry and everyone in telemetry were stunned at how unchallenging Luca''s race was, while Rodnick, now in P6, was in the midst of the most intense battles.


    A strange good sign. Though everyone knew the race might turn at any moment, for now, the serenity of Luca''s laps gave Jackson the time to focus on Rodnick, who was literally losing his temper.


    "...This has been an unbelievably smooth race for Luca Rennick...!"


    "...Not a single moment of struggle so far¡ªa strategy holding up, a pace so consistent, and he''s completely in control...!"


    "...Compared to the chaos we''ve seen in past races, this is almost too easy for him... but we know Formula racing doesn''t stay quiet for long...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [15th Lap]


    P2¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P3¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    P4¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ý


    P5¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P6¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P7¡ª Elias Nystr?m ¡ý


    While Luca''s rivals were locked in their own battles, shuffling positions with every lap, he was up ahead, untouched, dialing into his rhythm and advancing the Sync Bar.


    It was now at 37.5%, creeping closer to 50%. Yes, he was having a smooth race, but it was definitely because of the consistent defense he had executed against Ailbeart Moireach early on.


    That wild, incredulous move Ailbeart carried out in the opener wasn''t his last. He had attempted many other times in between laps 2¡ª8, only for Luca to shut him down with Corner Choppings and Straightaway Choppings, so much he got a point for them each. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    [Straightaway Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    From Ailbeart''s desperation to clinch P1, it was as if he knew the position would be as free as the wind in this Bahrain Grand Prix for the driver who got ahead.


    [Heat Management +4]


    "That''s a big one," Luca remarked. "But I guess the tougher the problem, the stronger I adapt."


    [Tire Wear Management +1]


    [Longevity +2]


    [Gripper +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    [Tires are in good condition, host. DRS is unavailable. Engine temperature is optimal. Brake wear at 5%.]


    [Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. Recommend maintaining current pace.]


    Everything was still a green light for Luca. Tires, check. Engine temperature, check. Brake wear, check. Aerodynamicity, check. Steering, check.


    There was absolutely no reason to consider a pit stop. No strategist, engineer, or even a casual fan would recommend it at this point. The car was in peak condition, and the race was unfolding perfectly in his favor.


    However, if teams strategized based on obvious data alone, their races would be too predictable for other teams. This was definitely not the first time a driver was having a smooth racing up ahead in P1, and every F1 fan could give you a detailed account of past scenarios and how it all came crashing down at the end because they stayed out so long and were scared of throwing away their golden opportunity.


    **Luca, box coming lap. I repeat¡ªbox coming lap**


    "Copy. I''m coming in."


    Ailbeart''s gap to him was 4 seconds¡ªastonishingly impressive for a race where many had predicted tight delta from start to finish.


    Actually, that prediction was correct, because in the middle of the pack, the average distance between the cars now was 1.2 secs.


    [Straightaway ahead]


    [You are picking up speed]


    [... , ----T13--,


    / |


    |


    T12


    \\


    ''------,


    \\


    T11


    /


    -------------'' ...]


    After the second straight was Turn 11.


    [Turn type: High-Speed Right-hander ] [Angle: 45¡ã] [Braking Point: 180 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 200 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    No much brake was needed to be applied for a good entrance into this Turn 11. So, Luca just continued using the same momentum he gathered from the straight and entered the turn.


    [Turn type: High-Speed Left-hander ] [Angle: 45¡ã] [Braking Point: 160 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 195 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    [Smoothly taken!]


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander ] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 120 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 130 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    [Perfect Handling!]


    [600m Straightaway ahead]


    Exactly how Luca''s Bahrain Grand Prix had been going. It was just him and his system calculating his personal racing progress without the unnerving alerts of the threats of rivals. How pleasing this was!


    Turn 4 and Turn 15 were up next¡ªthe last turns before the home straight.


    [Turn type: Tight Left-hander ] [Angle: 80¡ã] [Braking Point: 90 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 130 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    [Turn type: Medium Right-hander ] [Angle: 60¡ã] [Braking Point: 110 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 140 km/h] [Optimal Apex: Outside curb]


    [1km Straightaway ahead]


    Bahrain International Circuit''s home straight was on the list of the longer straights in the F1 calendar, but not close to the longest yet despite its stretchy appearance.


    Luca''s tires clawed out of Turn 15 after a fluid outside line. He felt his FiveSix hiss at the straight ahead before powering the chassis with the necessary energy to take it on.


    "...AND LUCA RENNICK STORMS DOWN THE HOME STRAIGHT WITH A COMMANDING LEAD...!"


    "...THE 19TH LAP IS ABOUT TO BEGIN, AND HE''S BEEN IN COMPLETE CONTROL SO FAR!"


    The crowd''s cheers blended into the deep growl of his Ferrari as Luca surged onto the straight, the DRS detection zone flashing past.


    He glanced at the cam display, quick enough to see Ailbeart rounding Turn 15, #2 on top of his Renault like a blue crown.


    To carry out this pitstop and somehow reclaim P1, whether immediately or after, Luca needed to know what he was dealing with.


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [2nd Position is 4.5 sec away, host.]


    There was no doubt Ailbeart Moireach would take P1, and perhaps Luigi could squeeze in for P2. But Luca needed to make sure he would rejoin the race as fast as possible and into P3.


    "...OH, WE''RE SEEING SOME ACTIVITY IN THE JACKSON RACING GARAGE...!"


    "...IS IT LUCA RENNICK OR MARCELLUS RODNICK GETTING READY FOR A STOP?!"


    Luca had a definite lead, comfortably ahead, while Rodnick was still tangled in a midfield battle. Surely, a pit stop wouldn''t fit both drivers at this moment¡ªso who was it going to be?


    Jackson Racing spectators and fans immediately experienced some concern.


    "...IF IT''S LUCA, HE''LL HAVE TO EXECUTE THIS PERFECTLY TO REJOIN WITHIN STRIKING DISTANCE..!"


    "...IF IT''S RODNICK, THIS COULD EITHER SAVE HIS RACE¡ªOR COST HIM EVEN MORE TIME...!"


    **Team is more than ready. We will have you back in¡ªin no time**


    "Okay."


    C4 Mediums. Tire compounds not commonly used such as the hards and softs, but still important on their own part.


    The crew was already in position, the lollipop guy standing firmly. Once Luca''s Ferrari came into view in the far distance, his eyes lit up and he informed the others.


    "..LUCA RENNICK, FROM A COMMANDING LEAD, HAS DIVED INTO THE PITLANE FOR AN EARLY PIT! THIS IS A THROWAWAY OF P1¡ªOR IS IT A MASTERSTROKE OF STRATEGY...?"


    "..this is going to hand his rivals the lead. It could be difficult climbing up again. A slow pitstop might have him thrown into upheaval in the middle of the pack..."


    This wasn''t the first time Jackson Racing had implemented a strange strategy. And whenever they did, they had a reputation for emerging victorious.


    So, for the rival teams, this wasn''t just a routine pitstop but a threat.


    One by one, team principals withdrew into their garages, abandoning their trackside watch to reassess their own strategies, recalculate and make up some contingencies.


    Meanwhile, in the pit lane, Luca''s Ferrari came to a precise stop¡ªperfectly aligned, ready for a lightning-fast tire swap. The crew lunged into action, C4 Mediums already in motion.


    Right jacks up. Left jacks up.


    WHEELS OFF. WHEELS ON.


    Luca exited cleanly. 2.5 seconds. "Urghh," escaped his lips. The strain of G-forces never really hurt like this ever since Endurance was taken so high.


    **We''re good. Things go well, this is first and last**


    That mechanical sound of Ailbeart''s Renault was wailing through the circuit''s air like a siren. Luca knew he had absolutely no chance to slip in before that. The Renault''s body was already a blur of motion and all Haddock Racing fans had just jumped to their feet.


    "...And there it is...!"


    "...Luca Rennick has lost the lead to Ailbeart Moireach! And with the pitstop gamble now in play, he might just lose P2 to Antonio Luigi as well...!"


    Sure enough, as if the race had just flipped on its head, Antonio Luigi''s Mercedes was closing the gap with unrelenting speed. The silver arrow surged forward, slicing through the track with the grace of a predator.


    It was as if Luigi enjoyed how he did what he did.


    "...Antonio Luigi moves up into second place, and now, Luca has fallen to third¡ªthis is not what he had planned after that early lead...!"


    **Keep eyes on Davide. P3 before him, c''mon**


    Luca''s ears perked up at that information. He cast a sharp glance to the home straight where DiMarco''s Red Bull was devouring the track, meter after meter.


    [Calculating intersection....]

 Chapter 325 - 325: S2 Bahrain Grand Prix. 3

    [Trajectory Assessment: Pitlane disadvantage detected. Line integrity at risk from 4th Position''s approach.]


    [Recommended Action: Enter at 20% throttle; maintain intersection apex trajectory. Anticipate 4th Position''s outside pressure.]


    P1¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ü


    P2¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    00¡ª Luca Rennick ¡û


    P4¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P5¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P6¡ª Marcellus Rodnick¡ü


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "..just in time¡ªslots back into third is Luca Rennick! A thin margin! Had he hesitated for even a second longer, DiMarco would''ve had him...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [3rd Position]


    **We''re back into the race**


    "...So there you have it! Moireach leads, Luigi follows, but Rennick¡ªjust barely¡ªclings onto third place! Can he fight his way back up, or is the momentum so low...?!"


    [Turn type: Tight Left-hander ] [Angle: 70¡ã] [Braking Point: 120 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 130 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    Speaking of momentum and strategy backfiring, someone else in the top five, other than Luca, was losing ground to the driver behind him.


    Jimmy Damgaard.


    The integrity of the Tiered Pursuit strategy was clawing at Jimmy Damgaard''s neck. The team''s strategy required him to do nothing while behind his teammate.


    He wasn''t allowed to overtake. He wasn''t allowed to push the pace. He wasn''t allowed to do a damn thing except sit tight and play second fiddle to his teammate.


    And right now, behind DiMarco, he was seated at P5 as if he was a placeholder, watching the delta between him and Rodnick shrink like a snail''s neck.


    He wasn''t fresh out of the pits, but his momentum seemed so. The yellow flags weren''t waving, the safety car wasn''t out, yet he stuck to DiMarco''s rear like a car under the safety car parade.


    Such cruel team strategy that disfavored a driver at such a time in the race. And Rodnick, who had taken P7 a while ago from Nystr?m, had just seen a free ticket into the top five he longed for.


    "...AND THERE IT IS! THE CHAMPION POUNCES INTO TURN 1! JIMMY DAMGAARD IS A SITTING DUCK...!"


    Rodnick swooped into the inside line first. That was the move he needed to take P5 from Damgaard, who had no momentum.


    P5¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P6¡ª Jimmy Damgaard ¡ý


    " ...Marcellus Rodnick, P5, Jimmy Damgaard, P6...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Into P5 Rodnick went, and in an instant, DiMarco, who had been laser-focused on pressuring Luca, now found himself wedged between two Ferraris.


    This could spell trouble for his pursuit of Luca. If Jackson Racing decided to play the team game, they could execute an in-race strategy to box him in, forcing him to either back off or make a risky move.


    But there was another factor at play¡ªhis own teammate, Damgaard.


    With the fellow Velocit¨¤ driver now in P6, Rodnick himself was sandwiched between two Red Bulls. That alone gave DiMarco some reassurance. He knew he had an ally behind him, but he wasn''t naive. There was no comparing the strength of himself and Damgaard to that of Rodnick and Luca.


    [4th Position closing in]


    Once again, Luca was caught in the position of poor grip while directly ahead of DiMarco. He fleetingly thought DiMarco might have similar plans like he did in China, but Luca immediately dismissed that.


    Sitting at 12th place in the standings must be a disgraceful position for DiMarco. It would be outright stupidity for him to attempt something like that again. His ego wouldn''t allow it. The internal debate between watching Luca fail and preserving his own season must be raging in his mind.


    A crash here would be catastrophic. It would stain his championship hopes beyond repair. Even that "super engine" he had boasted about getting would have to do more than enough to salvage the lost points if he ended up in the barriers today.


    Luca was starting to see the subtle effects of Gripper¡ªnow at (10)¡ªhaving on his tires, and their speed to rebuild warmth.


    They weren''t significantly building up faster, they were just... faster.


    Luca hoped he wasn''t too late as they launched into Turn 3. Once the straight opened, the odds would automatically favor DiMarco, giving him an 85% chance of an overtake. He was very close, and easy DRS deployment would be enough.


    [Straightaway ahead]


    Luca didn''t recall ever knowing the true lengths of the Tempesta engine DiMarco piloted and his Red Bull in general.


    So, he made a quick review before he faced the difficult.


    Red Bull (RBioL), lightweight of 750kg, top speed of 360km/h, and an acceleration of 2.5 sec. An impressive torque of 1050Nm (+80).


    [Chassis Comparison]


    [Retrieving Data from registered car and car under analysis....]


    [...Data successfully retrieved!]


    [Selected Modes:


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B)


    ¡ªRed Bull (RBioL) ]


    [POWER & PERFORMANCE:


    ¡ªRed Bull (RBioL): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 96%???


    [AERODYNAMICS & CHASSIS:


    ¡ªRed Bull (RBioL): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 93%???


    [HANDLING & DYNAMICS:


    ¡ªRed Bull (RBioL): 97% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97% ???


    [ENDURANCE & RELIABILITY:


    ¡ªRed Bull (RBioL): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%???


    [TECHNOLOGICAL INTEGRATION:


    ¡ªRed Bull (RBioL): 100% ???


    ¡ªFerrari (JRX-92B): 97%??? ]


    [Review: Ferrari (JRX-92B) is built for podiums, while Red Bull (RBioL) is built to dance on the edge of perfection.]


    "Hmm. Such catchy phrases, system. I guess I''m the scalpel and he''s the sledgehammer."


    "Move over to the engine."


    [Detected Engine: RBPTH003 V7 Turbo Hybrid (Tempesta)]


    [Data on RBPTH002 V6 Turbo Hybrid can be retrieved]


    [Retrieving Data...]


    [.... Data Retrieved]


    [The RBPTH003 V7 Turbo Hybrid (Tempesta) is engineered for consistent HIGH-SPEED PERFORMANCE and efficient energy deployment in F1.]


    [It features a 1.6L V7 single-turbo hybrid unit, delivering 1,070 HP and 1,050 Nm (+80) of torque. Its MGU-H enhanced turbo response MINIMIZES LAG, ensuring smooth power output during acceleration. High-RPM durability is reinforced with upgraded internals, allowing SUSTAINED PERFORMANCE OVER LONG STINTS. The ERS system prioritizes efficient energy deployment, optimizing battery usage for overtakes and defense.] S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [The Tempesta''s design favors straight-line speed, making it a strong contender on power-heavy circuits while maintaining reliable hybrid integration.]


    "Holy shit. It has my high-speed thing as well!"


    Luca felt a bit disappointed that his 056 wasn''t the only engine to feature the high-speed benefits. He understood engine manufacturers would bear similarities and so would their products.


    But he also understood they could not be of the same potential and ability.


    "System, between my High-speed Dominance and the Tempesta''s High-speed Performance, which is greater to the other?" he asked.


    Great Stamina and Longevity were similar engine features, but one was greater¡ªLongevity. Luca was confident it would be the case here.


    [Indeed host, your <High-speed Dominance> is superior to the currently analyzed engine''s <High-speed Performance>.]


    "Yesss," Luca hissed happily. "I knew it."


    So this meant if he and DiMarco were to run down a very long straight side-by-side, he would emerge victorious. Because, one, High-speed Dominance was superior, and two, he was levelling it up, unlike the other stagnant engines around him now.


    After defending as much as he could, Luca took a deep breath and kept his eyes straight ahead as DiMarco zoomed past him, taunting him with a side glare.


    "...Davide DiMarco in P3...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOH!"


    P3¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ü


    00¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ý


    Rodnick followed suit without sparing his teammate the moment of a duel acknowledgement.


    "... Marcellus Rodnick in P4...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    P4¡ª Marcellus Rodnick¡ü


    00¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ý


    "...Luca Rennick is tumbling down the order! DiMarco has already surged past into third, and now Rodnick doesn''t even hesitate¡ªhe just sweeps through into fourth! This is definitely not what Jackson Racing wanted with that early pitstop...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [5th Position]


    Many Jackson Racing fans were vocal in their frustration, their initial skepticism about the early pit stop now turning into full-blown disappointment.


    A few hopefuls tried to convince themselves that this was all part of a larger strategy, but their optimism was quickly waning.


    Meanwhile, the opposing fans¡ªSquadra, Velocit¨¤, Haddock, and even some neutral spectators¡ªwere on their feet, reveling in the unexpected downfall of the frontrunner in a Ferrari.


    "LUCA IS GETTING DESTROYED!" rang out across the circuit, shouted and chanted by fans who didn''t support the Silver Stallions.


    Luca couldn''t hear any of these reactions. On the straights, the engines from all the cars were so loud that they drowned out everything¡ªthe crowd, the commentary, even his own thoughts.


    The only senses he had sharp as a razor were his sight and his grip on the wheel. Rodnick''s Ferrari wasn''t far behind, nor were the other cars.


    Warmth and grip were coming around, so Luca cast a quick glance at his mirrors to gauge Nystr?m''s position.


    [Analyzing 6th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [6th Position is 2 sec away, host.]


    When he returned his gaze to the track, Luca was shocked to see how things had changed in just the split second he looked at his mirrors.


    Turn 4 was next, and Rodnick seemed to have had enough!


    He charged into Turn 4, braking impossibly late, sending his Ferrari slicing past DiMarco. DiMarco, caught off guard, was stunned by his rival''s audacity to make such a move.


    It was borderline suicidal, but somehow, Rodnick made the overtake stick!


    "...Rodnick¡ªmy God¡ªhe sends it into Turn 4! DiMarco has no answer! Marcellus Rodnick up into third...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!"


    P3¡ªMarcellus Rodnick ¡ü


    P4¡ªDavide DiMarco ¡ý


    But Rodnick''s momentum was too much. His Ferrari was still carrying excess speed from the late dive, and it drifted wide, struggling to keep grip as it hurtled toward Turn 5.


    In an instant, he realized he wasn''t just fighting the corner¡ªhe was heading straight for Luigi!


    Luigi, in his silver Mercedes, had no idea what was coming. The two cars collided when Rodnick''s front wing rammed Luigi''s side, sending both into a spin.


    "...CONTACT! CONTACT! RODNICK AND LUIGI COLLIDE AT TURN 5...!"


    Luca''s eyes widened as he saw the flames.

 Chapter 326 - 326: S2 Bahrain Grand Prix. 4

    The most cinematic photograph in all of Formula 1 history was captured that day at the Bahrain Grand Prix.


    Antonio Luigi stood atop his wrecked Mercedes, his fists clenched so tightly that his gloves strained against his fingers. Frustration burned through every vein in his body as he glared down at Rodnick, the man responsible for this disaster.


    Rodnick, walking past under the escort of the marshals, turned his head just enough to meet Luigi''s glare.


    The wreckage of their cars loomed behind them as a smoldering background of shattered carbon fiber. Smoke coiled into the desert sky, thick and suffocating, the last remnant of the fire that had been hastily drowned in extinguisher foam.


    It was a horrific crash. It was far worse than Luca and DiMarco''s clash in China.


    Luigi''s car had taken the worst of it, but that hadn''t stopped him. He had ripped himself out of the cockpit with a furious urgency, climbing onto his ruined Mercedes like a warrior mounting his fallen steed. His helmet tilted down and his visor fixed on Rodnick, clearly showing he was provoked.


    Rodnick, the provocateur, didn''t look away. He thought it was best not to, so he returned the stare.


    This wasn''t new for them. This wasn''t the heat of the moment. This rivalry had existed long before Luca even entered the sport, much older than Luca''s career in fact.


    The second-highest-rated driver in F1, staring down at the highest-rated driver in F1.


    Luca had made sure to study every single driver''s F1 Monoposto Driver Card that day. He knew Rodnick was a two-time F1 World Champion back-to-back, but a part of him had expected Luigi to be the better-rated driver.


    ©°©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©´


    ©¦ F1 MONOPOSTO DRIVER CARD ©¦


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ ANTONIO


    ©¦ LUIGI ????????


    ©¦ Squadra Corse Mercedes


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ Experience: 90


    ©¦ Racecraft: 92


    ©¦ Awareness: 86


    ©¦ Pace: 94


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ Total Rating: 93 ??©¦


    ©¸©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¼


    The double upward arrows definitely meant Luigi had improved even more compared to last season.


    Luca wondered how his own card would stack up against Luigi''s.


    He knew he''d rank much lower in Experience and Racecraft, but when it came to Awareness and Pace, he was confident that he just might be close, or even surpass him.


    ©°©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©´


    ©¦ F1 MONOPOSTO DRIVER CARD ©¦


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ MARCELLUS


    ©¦ RODNICK ????????


    ©¦ Jackson Racing Ferrari


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ Experience: 93


    ©¦ Racecraft: 93


    ©¦ Awareness: 87


    ©¦ Pace: 91


    ©À©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©È


    ©¦ Total Rating: 95 ??©¦


    ©¸©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¤©¼


    A TR of 93 and 95 wasn''t much in Luca''s eyes. Even DiMarco, rated at 90, wasn''t far behind.


    "...Rodnick sent it into Turn 4, got ahead of DiMarco, but the momentum completely carried him into Luigi¡ª"


    "...And look at the result! That is a massive, massive shunt! Both cars are out...!" sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    XXX¡ª Antonio Luigi


    XXX¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    **What the hell was that?! Marcellus just threw away our points!**


    **Rodnick went too deep, hit Luigi¡ªit''s a full-blown incident. You''re P3 now, Luca, stay focused**


    "...Safety Car deployed. Safety Car deployed. Maintain delta...."


    Despite the frustration this caused for both teams and the drivers involved, Luca knew the rest of the pack was¡­ glad.


    Yes, they had every reason to be glad! The top two heavyweights of the competition had just thrown themselves out, ensuring that zero points would be added to their already significant totals.


    1. | Marcellus Rodnick | 55


    2. | Antonio Luigi | 46


    Even Luca couldn''t hide a bit of satisfaction at the outcome. Though it would have consequences for Jackson Racing, a small part of him was relieved. The crash had pushed him up to P3. Now, a few of his rivals, just like he did, would walk away with zero points while others still in the race made gains.


    [3rd Position]


    This was the opening everyone had been waiting for. With the reigning champion and runner-up out of the race, the field was wide open. It was a golden opportunity for anyone willing to seize it.


    When the red flags were lifted and the wreckage of Luigi and Rodnick''s cars was cleared from the track, the race resumed with sharp intensity.


    Every driver, now two spots higher, was hungry for more. Luca could feel it too¡ªthe tension, the hunger, the realization that the race wasn''t just about survival in their reserve positions. It was about taking full advantage of the chaos.


    [Spatial Awareness +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    Half of Jackson Racing''s garage surrounded Marcellus Rodnick, offering him support and trying to calm his frustration, while the other half immediately shifted their focus entirely to Luca, the sole driver left on track, as the laps began to tick past the midway point.


    The tension was palpable. Everyone knew the importance of the upcoming pitstops, and as the first round of routine stops approached shortly after the incident, the pressure was mounting.


    Ailbeart Moireach and Davide DiMarco were forced to pit in laps 22 and 24 respectively.


    But the most unexpected turn of events came just moments after their stops.


    With both top contenders off the track and out of the running, Luca Rennick¡ªquietly fighting his way through¡ªmanaged to reclaim the lead, his long-lost P1 position now firmly back in his grasp!


    [1st Position]


    The crowd roared as Luca''s name flashed on the timing screens and at the top of the leaderboard. It was a surprising twist. After everything that had happened, Luca found himself at the top again!


    "...Luca was doubted by so many. His early pitstop looked like a desperate move¡ªbut now, it''s looking like genius...!"


    "...Unbelievable! Just... unbelievable..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca Rennick in P1..."


    P1¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P2¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡û


    P3¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡û


    **Luca, we''ve got the lead! You''ve done it¡ªyou''re in P1! Keep it cool, we''re in a great position now. We need all points**


    "Understood!"


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [2nd Position is 3 sec away, host.]


    A very satisfying position to have at a crucial time in the race, which was gradually entering its last quarter.


    Luca suddenly remembered that he was on medium compounds, and soon, the second round of routine pit stops would follow.


    The team had planned for him not to pit again, instead finishing the race on the same set of mediums. It was a very risky call, as tire wear could become a serious issue at the worst possible moment.


    If the spectators thought Jackson Racing''s decision for his early pit stop was a gamble, they had yet to fathom what was coming.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 300 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 112 bpm


    -Operational Status: 80% (Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 165000m


    -Time: 45 min. ]

 Chapter 327 - 327: S2 Bahrain Grand Prix. 5

    [40th Lap]


    "...We are yet to see Luca Rennick come into the pits¡­ Surely, it''s about time? Most of the field has already cycled through, yet the Ferrari is still out there on those aging mediums..."


    "...This is a bold call from Jackson Racing. We know they planned for an aggressive strategy, but are they really stretching it all the way...?"


    [Operational Status: 70%]


    [42nd Lap]


    "...Other drivers are pitting¡ªAilbeart Moireach has just come in, DiMarco as well¡ªbut Luca Rennick is NOT! He stays out once again...!"


    "...This is getting interesting¡­ Those mediums have seen an incredible amount of wear, and yet, no signs of him coming in. Could Jackson Racing actually be aiming for a no-stop second stint or a late pitstop...?"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The crowd''s energy surged with every passing lap as Luca''s Ferrari continued to bypass the pit lane. Lap after lap, no sign of a stop. No movement from the Jackson Racing pit crew. Nothing.


    "Is he really going for this? Jackson Racing haven''t even set up! There''s no indication of a stop coming!"


    Luca, fully aware of the growing tension, kept his focus alert.


    "Car still feels alright," he reported calmly over the radio. "It''ll start to deteriorate more quickly in the final laps, but I can manage."


    Still in P1, it felt like Luca had picked up right where he left off earlier in the race¡ªuntouched, unbothered, racing far ahead of the pack. The gap behind him wasn''t just measured in seconds; it was measured in confidence.


    And now, it felt even better.


    The Bahrain sun, as relentless and intense, had been swallowed by the thick clouds all around it, casting a shadow over the circuit.


    A steady wind now swept through the track, cooling the tarmac, and giving his tires just a little more breathing room.


    [Heat Management +2]


    [Tire Wear Management +1]


    When Ailbeart Moireach and Davide DiMarco in P2 and P3 made their second pitstops, it really troubled them that Luca was still out there.


    The longer he stayed on track while they sat idle in the pits, the more ground he gained. And he did just that.


    By the time they rejoined the race, their tires were cold, their grip unstable. Meanwhile, Luca was still pushing at full speed, undisturbed. Every clean sector he nailed, every apex he hit, widened the gap. And he did just that! Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)¡­]


    [2nd Position is 7.5 sec away, host.]


    A massive lead. One that would take more than just pace to close down.


    [45th Lap]


    "...Oh my! He''s STILL not coming in! This is almost unheard of¡ª45 laps in, and Luca Rennick continues to push...!"


    "...The gap is closing now! The fresh-tired pack is gaining on him! How much longer can those tires hold on? How much grip does he even have left...?!"


    It was clear to everyone now that Luca wasn''t going to visit the pits a second time since his first stop on Lap 19.


    He had just entered the final closing laps, yet no true sign of¡ª oh!


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...LUCA RENNICK SKIDS A BIT AT TURN 2...!!"


    The crowd gasped as Luca''s rear twitched left more than he intended. He cursed deeply, wrestling the car back under control with his sharp Attributes and Reflexes.


    **Close one there heh?**


    Luca took a deep breath, steadying the car through the next sector. "Yeah... rear''s starting to slide a bit."


    Luca reckoned if this had been his first time driving the JRX-92B, he would have spun out by now, maybe even ended up in the barriers, making headlines for all the wrong reasons.


    Come to think of it, it was because he had upgraded Gripper from (5) to (10) and Tire Wear Management Attribute from (15) to (18) that he''d even had the confidence to assure the team of today''s plan, telling them he could pull it off.


    Now, he wondered if it was enough to keep him in the race for the remaining five laps.


    What''s done was done. He couldn''t pit now.


    Luca had to finish with:


    [Operational Status: 60%]


    And it was still dropping.


    He cast a glance at the dashboard display to gauge the full leaderboard.


    P1¡ª Luca Rennick


    P2¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P3¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P4¡ª Hank Rice


    P5¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P6¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P7¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P8¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P9¡ª James Lockwood


    P10¡ª Denko Rutherford


    While gauging everyone''s delta, Luca realized he and Ailbeart''s had reduced to 6.8!


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)¡­]


    [2nd Position is 6.8 sec away, host.]


    The wear was starting to take its toll. The longer he stayed out, the less traction he had. Each turn required more finesse and less speed, a delicate balance between keeping control and giving up valuable time.


    [47th Lap]


    "...three more laps to go in this Bahrain Grand Prix, and the tension is building to a boiling point..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...The battle for the top spot is far from over, and every move from here on out is critical. Will Luca hold on, or will his tires give way to Ailbeart''s relentless charge...?!"


    **Copy, Ailbeart. We can see Luca''s telemetry dropping¡ªhis tire wear is showing. This is your chance! You''re closing in fast, but you need to make a move before the final lap. Keep your focus, get past DiMarco, and close that gap to Luca. It''s all or nothing now, we need to catch him before it''s too late!**


    Ailbeart clenched his grip on the steering wheel, feeling the strain of the tires beneath him as he pushed harder, trying to keep his car stable on the rougher patches of the track.


    At least Hank Rice on a long stint could keep DiMarco busy while he raced ahead to Luca.


    Luca, in P1, felt like he was losing control of his steering. The car''s response grew more erratic with every turn. Everything felt heavier and less responsive.


    He had to tighten his grip so hard just to coax the Ferrari into staying in position, preventing it from slipping away.


    Luca had just three laps left¡ªno, two now.


    Oh no. He didn''t want to end up like the old F1 drivers who were infamous for crashing after skipping pit stops just to stay ahead and grab the points.


    Right now, Luca felt exposed and vulnerable in his car. The tight grip he had on the steering wheel seemed to slip more with every turn.


    He couldn''t pit now¡ªnot with only two laps remaining¡ªand he sure as hell couldn''t stop driving. It was like being trapped in a storm, knowing the only way out was to ride it through, praying the car wouldn''t give in before the finish line.


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    Luca hadn''t been able to complete it in this race. He just realized that if he had, activating it now would have been the best thing ever.


    He would have definitely targeted Gripper and anything else in his system that supported the tires. This predicament would have vanished in an instant.


    [Operational Status: 45%]


    "Shit! Is that my lowest ever?"


    **Stay strong, Luca! Stay strong!**


    Mr. Berry and the rest of the team were starting to doubt whether Luca could make it to the finish line. The tire wear had reached critical levels, and the reality of the situation was sinking in.


    They couldn''t bring themselves to say it aloud to Luca because they needed him to push his best, yet they all feared their second crash of the day.


    [50th Lap]


    "...And here we are¡ªthe final lap of the Bahrain Grand Prix! What an incredible race it''s been, and Luca Rennick, despite all the odds, still holds on to the lead..!"


    "...The crowd''s on the edge of their seats as we head into the last stretch of the fourth round...!"


    Luca barely made it into the final lap. His speed on the straight was poor, hitting just 200 km/h when it supported 300 and above.


    Sighing, Luca braced himself for the remaining challenge. He still had to push through one more time, but with his Operational Status now down to 40%, it felt like the whole race was hanging on by a thread.


    POHP!


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The crowd erupted in shock as Luca''s front left tire suddenly popped! The deafening sound of the explosion echoed across the track, followed by a long, hissing noise as the air rapidly escaped.


    Hissssssssss!!!!


    Luca''s car visibly lurched, the steering wheel jerking in his hands as the tire failed dramatically.


    "...Unbelievable! We''ve just seen a tire failure on Luca''s car with only a lap to go! The front left tire has completely given out¡ªthis is a catastrophic moment for Jackson Racing...!"


    [System Alert: Tire Failure - Front Left]


    [Warning: Critical tire failure imminent.]


    "Shit...!" Luca gritted his teeth, gripping the wheel tighter as the vibrations ran through his hands. The car wobbled beneath him, and the corner ahead felt like an impossible challenge.


    [System Alert: Immediate reduction in handling performance. Please slow down and prepare for possible loss of control.]


    Jackson Racing''s engineers fell silent, letting Luca handle it alone.


    "...Luca''s car is all over the place! He''s losing grip, and at this stage, it could be a miracle if he holds onto that position! It''s a heartbreaking blow with only a few turns left and a straight in the Bahrain Grand Prix...!"


    Yes, what was left for Luca to navigate in the Bahrain Grand Prix was the third sector. He wondered if he could do it with one tire down.


    Luca was scarcely trained to be in this kind of situation because it wasn''t often supposed to happen.


    His vision began to blur momentarily as the car veered slightly off track. He could already hear the screeching hiss of the deflating tire beneath him.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "Not now... Come on, come on..." His knuckles turned white, gripping the wheel as tight as he could, hoping and praying that the tire wouldn''t completely disintegrate before he could make it to the finish line.


    He could feel the force building up, the car''s front left corner dragging against the road, struggling to stay attached to the tarmac. With each passing second, it felt more like the car might just break apart beneath him.


    [System Alert: Critical instability detected. Recommended action: Slow down immediately.]


    "Stfu, system! I can''t slow down now!"


    Luca couldn''t slow down! He was nearing the goddamn finish line, and the entire crowd¡ª100,000 strong, including those in the luxury suites¡ªwas on their feet, watching him intently.


    [.... T13 ----,


    |


    |


    |


    |


    |


    |


    /


    T14


    /


    --------------------------T15 .....]


    He was deep in Turn 13, and if he could power through the next straight, survive Turn 14 and Turn 15, he''d hit the home straight and be crowned the winner in Bahrain.


    There was no slowing down¡ªhe couldn''t and wouldn''t slow down¡ªespecially with Ailbeart Moireach gradually closing in, entering the same sector as him.


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)¡­]


    [2nd Position is 4 sec away, host.]

 Chapter 328 - 328: Fourth Round Conclusion

    "...On the final straight in this Bahrain Grand Prix, Luca Rennick rolls himself toward the finish line! ON THREE TIRES! A BROKEN FERRARI, HOLDING ON FOR DEAR LIFE!"


    "...Ailbeart Moireach is charging¡ªHE''S RIGHT THERE AT TURN 14 NOW! IT''S A DRAG RACE TO THE FINISH LINE....!"


    The world seemed to hold its breath as Luca''s battered Ferrari limped forward. In the Jackson Racing garage, engineers had their lips pressed tightly shut, the telemetry room was dead silent, and the main garage felt like a graveyard.


    The commentary and announcements were happening far away, yet their impact resonated heavily within their base.


    Ailbeart Moireach was closing in fast. His car was full of life, unhindered, devouring the gap between them. He was having a moment of his own. He was pushing himself to snatch the win at the very last second, swearing on his life.


    He glided out of the turn, first left, then right, his Renault moving menacingly in Luca''s mirrors.


    But as Ailbeart''s car surged onto the straight, unleashing every last reserve of energy, Luca was already shuddering closer to the finish line.


    His tires, stripped of life, rolled without resistance. His car trembled as if Luca weighed a thousand pounds, screeching and scraping, every inch a battle.


    The marshal waving the checkered flag quickened his pace as Luca barely dragged himself across the finish line.


    Ailbeart crossed one second later as a blur.


    "....LUCA RENNICK¡ªHAS¡ªDONE IT! HE WINS IN BAHRAIN! ON THREE TIRES! HE WINS! HE WINS...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [1ST POSITION]


    "YES!" Luca wailed in sheer relief, his voice cracking because of the exhaustion of an hour race. His hands were shaking and had gone sore. They indeliberately slipped from the wheel, releasing the desperate grip that had kept the car barely in check.


    The Ferrari was hardly alive. The suspension groaned as the front left corner dragged like a wounded beast, the remaining three tires rolling sluggishly as momentum faded. But none of that mattered.


    Luca had won.


    He didn''t care as the rest of the field zipped past him¡ªRice, DiMarco, all of them finishing their own races at full speed. He had crossed first. That was all that counted!


    "Ha! Yes!"


    [Congratulations, host. You have made a podium]


    "...P1, Luca Rennick..."


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!!"


    "...I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS! A broken Ferrari, a blown-out tire, and he STILL CROSSES THE LINE FIRST...!"


    "...And Ailbeart Moireach¡ªso, SO CLOSE! He was reeling him in, but he just¡ªran¡ªout¡ªof¡ªtrack...!"


    "...This is one for the ages! A race for the history books! Luca Rennick, in only his first full season, has just pulled off the IMPOSSIBLE....!"


    "...On three tires! I can''t get over this! Luca Rennick WINS the Bahrain Grand Prix...!"


    Jackson Racing''s garage that had fallen silent in the tension of his crawl to the finish line, had just erupted into celebrations.


    After not hearing some words in a while, Luca was a bit startled when shouting and triumph came through the radio.


    **LUCA, YOU DID IT! YOU DID IT!**


    **YOU ARE A BAHRAIN GRAND PRIX WINNER!**


    Luca unfastened his seat belt with shaky hands. He was a bit sad his 92B had just died, meaning it was lifeless in his moment of celebration.


    But that didn''t stop him. He shoved the halo aside and climbed out of his battered Ferrari. Wobbly legs hit him, but Luca managed to gain a warrior stance, his spirit soaring.


    Without hesitation, he turned, stepping onto the sidepod, then onto the top of the car.


    SLAP! SLAP!


    Two firm smacks on the body of his battle-worn chariot before he threw both hands into the air.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    ------


    Final Race Standings ¨C Bahrain Grand Prix


    ???? Top 10 Finishers:


    P1 ¨C Luca Rennick ???????? (Jackson Racing) ???? +25pts


    P2 ¨C Ailbeart Moireach ???????? (Haddock Racing) +18pts (+1 FL) sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    P3 ¨C Hank Rice ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix) +15pts


    P4 ¨C Davide DiMarco ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤) +12pts


    P5 ¨C Elias Nystr?m ???????? (Nordvind Racing) +10pts


    P6 ¨C Marko Ignatova ???????? (Squadra Corse) +8pts


    P7 ¨C Jimmy Damgaard ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤) +6pts


    P8 ¨C Luis Dreyer ???????? (Outback Performance) +4pts


    P9 ¨C Alejandro Vasquez ???????? (Velox Hispania) +2pts


    P10 ¨C Denko Rutherford ???????? (Haddock Racing) +1pt


    ?Remaining Finishers:


    P11 ¨C Desmond Lloyd ???????? (Velox Hispania)


    P12 ¨C James Lockwood ???????? (Nordvind Racing)


    P13 ¨C Jacob Jakobsen ???????? (Alpine Swiss F1)


    P14 ¨C Javier Montez ???????? (Outback Performance)


    P15 ¨C Mikhail Petrov ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix)


    P16 ¨C Ansel Hahn ???????? (Trampos Racing)


    P17 ¨C J¨®zef Konarski ???????? (Alpine Swiss F1)


    P18 ¨C Erik Haas ???????? (Trampos Racing)


    ? DNF (Did Not Finish):


    P19 ¨C Antonio Luigi ???????? (Squadra Corse) ¨C Crash


    P20 ¨C Marcellus Rodnick ???????? (Jackson Racing) ¨C Crash


    -----


    Hank Rice, who had started the race at P11, completed the podium, overtaking DiMarco with his inferior chassis at a critical moment.


    Even DiMarco couldn''t believe it as the crowd opposing Velocit¨¤ roared their approval at his downfall.


    Luis Dreyer, who had started in P12, managed to climb into the top 10 for points, but it wasn''t as impressive a climb as Rice''s. This made Luca wonder just when this P11-P12 loophole would become publicly known, because as far as his instincts were telling him, some teams had already figured it out.


    Ignatova had finished in P6¡ªa big win for Jackson, as they emerged from the Bahrain Grand Prix with the most points. All of them coming from Luca.


    "I say we don''t take such a risk again!"


    "I agree, man. Ahead of you, ahead of you, man¡ªfor real!"


    "...ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our podium finishers for the Bahrain Grand Prix...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...third place, Hank Rice...!"


    "...second place, Ailbeart Moireach...!"


    "...first place, Luca Rennick....!"


    The city of Sakhir shook as Luca stepped onto the highest podium under the shade of the cloudy sky. It was as if his victory had summoned the promise of rain, setting the stage for a chilly evening and night.


    Luca could feel DiMarco''s eyes piercing through him from somewhere in the vast expanse of the F1 community. Because of this, he made sure to kiss his silverware and lift it high into the clouds.


    [Ding!]


    [Congratulations! Daily Quest Completed!]


    [You have been rewarded with (EXP)!


    -Downforce +1


    -Handling +1


    -Tire Wear Management +1 ]


    [You have been rewarded with tools!


    -5 Catalysts


    -2 Wrenches ]

 Chapter 329 - 329: Fifth Round

    Immediately after the Bahrain Grand Prix came the anticipation for the fifth round¡ªthe Brazilian Grand Prix.


    There was little time for rest. The team spent a few days recuperating, but celebrations were short-lived as preparations for the long journey to S?o Paulo began. The logistics were intense¡ªpacking, shipping the cars, tuning setups for the vastly different conditions of Brazil.


    Brazilian Grand Prix


    Location: S?o Paulo, Brazil


    Date: May. 16


    Time: 4 PM


    Track: Aut¨®dromo Jos¨¦ Carlos Pace (Interlagos)


    Track Length: 4 km


    Total Laps: 70


    Track Type: Permanent road course


    Lap Record: Davide DiMarco 1:10.540


    The Brazilian Grand Prix had a storied history, yet its place on the calendar had been inconsistent. It had last featured two seasons ago, and despite the fact that many like it and its immense popularity, it wasn''t a regular fixture like the more prominent European rounds.


    Luca had heard so much about the Interlagos Circuit, and he was eager to finally experience it firsthand. The track earned its nickname, "Interlagos," because of its location between two lakes in S?o Paulo and its high-altitude setting, which added an extra layer of challenge to the race.


    Sitting at a staggering 2,460 feet above sea level, Interlagos wasn''t just another circuit¡ªit was a test of endurance, skill, and adaptability!


    But altitude wasn''t the only thing that made this track special. There was a lot more to it.


    It was an anti-clockwise circuit with a left-handed layout, similar to the Bahrain International Circuit, but Interlagos was the undisputed OG of all anti-clockwise circuits. The constant left turns put immense strain on the drivers'' necks, demanding a level of physical endurance that only a few circuits in the world required.


    Just thinking about it made Luca instinctively feel his own neck, wondering if it might twist mid-race under the sheer force of the Gs.


    The track was bumpy and uneven. Gone were the smooth, predictable asphalt streaks they''d been enjoying so far this season. In its place, Interlagos offered a rollercoaster of fast elevation changes, sudden inclines, and sharp declines¡ªeach one a potential hazard, each one responsible for countless crashes over the years.


    And oh! Interlagos was well known for wet races¡ªthe Brazilian Grand Prix in general. It felt like 90% of all races held here either started in the rain, ended in the rain, or were completely soaked throughout. Or maybe it was just that rain seemed to always fall here.


    Luca had no doubt it would rain on the 16th. The only question was when. Morning, afternoon, during the race¡ªit didn''t matter. The team would be affected regardless, because S?o Paulo''s sky looked like it hadn''t seen the sun in ages. And with all that water, the track would stay slick for a long time, making every lap a battle against traction and control.


    Brazil, in general, was a wet country. High humidity, warm temperatures, frequent cloud cover, and hazy sunsets were all part of its signature atmosphere.


    It was a land where nature thrived in abundance, from the dense Amazon rainforest to the vast wetlands of the Pantanal. The climate was unpredictable, with sudden bursts of rain capable of transforming a dry street into a slippery hazard in minutes.


    S?o Paulo, where the Grand Prix would take place, was the country''s bustling heart though it wasn''t the capital. It was a metropolis with skyscrapers and neighbourhoods who still retained their culture and their passion for motorsport all the way to football.


    As Portuguese speakers, Luca had always wanted to find himself in the middle of a Latina neighbourhood or village.


    From movies, he''d imagined how delicious the scent of sizzling street food nearby would be. The thought of walking through the narrow streets lined with colourful houses and then hearing samba beats echo from the houses felt adventurous.


    He began to gauge his schedule after the race, wondering if there''d be time to slip away, even just for a few hours, to explore the heart of S?o Paulo beyond the paddock.


    Would there be a moment to wander through the old streets, to step into a family-run caf¨¦ where the scent of freshly brewed coffee and p?o de queijo filled the air?


    Luca was determined to make out some time. Since Mr. Schafer and Isabella were coming along to watch the race in-person, a nice tour around the country would fit.


    Even though Isabella was half-Mexican and not half-Brazilian, meaning she could speak a little Spanish and not Portuguese, Luca was still confident there''d be a few Spanish speakers there, creating a sense of familiarity in an unfamiliar place.


    With a happy personal team¡ªSara, Mallow and the others¡ªthey took their flight to S?o Paulo, Brazil as the fifth round of the F1 season had officially begun.


    From the fourth round, the standings changed in their points, but no team had switched positions. It remained the same from 1st place to 10th place.


    PROVISIONAL CONSTRUCTORS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (ALL 10)


    Position | Team | Points


    ----------------------------------------


    1. | Jackson Racing | 111


    2. | Squadra Corse | 80


    3. | Haddock Racing | 54


    4. | Iberia Grand Prix | 51


    5. | Outback Perf. | 43


    6. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ | 36


    7. | Nordvind Racing | 25


    8. | Velox Hispania | 6


    9. | Trampos Racing | 0


    10. | Alpine Swiss F1 | 0.


    Jackson Racing sat at 111 points, and with Trampos and Alpine still trailing behind like a couple of lost tourists without a map, it was crazy work!


    The Silver Stallions were now a comfortable 31 points ahead of their closest rivals, Squadra. No wonder Luca kept seeing a lot of internet trolling photos and texts from Jackson fans, showing three fingers and one finger raised as jokes. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    If things continued to go well for the team in the UK, they might just secure their third consecutive F1 Constructor''s Championship.


    Switching to the Driver''s Standings, there were notable changes as Luca moved up from 6th place back into the top five. The standings had shifted quite dramatically, demonstrating just how quickly a single race could turn things around in an instant.


    The competition on the driver''s stage was far more intense than it was on the team stage.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP10)


    Position | Team | Points


    -------------------------------------------


    1. | Marcellus Rodnick | 55


    2. | Luca Rennick | 51


    3. | Antonio Luigi | 46


    4. | Hank Rice | 45


    5. | Ailbeart Moireach | 40 (+1)


    6. | Luis Dreyer | 37


    7. | Marko Ignatova | 35


    8. | Elias Nystr?m | 24


    9. | Jimmy Damgaard | 18


    10. | Davide DiMarco | 18


    DiMarco had just edged Denko out of the top 10, claiming the 10th spot. Hank Rice was currently performing the unbelievable, practically carrying Iberia GP on his shoulders.


    Many speculated that if the Nevada incident hadn''t happened, Hank Rice would have easily been the best driver this season.


    As for Luca, his take was different. From his perspective, he believed the need to succeed was likely what was driving Hank.

 Chapter 330 - 330: Pre-Brazilian Grand Prix

    Qualifiers Day. Thursday. May 13th


    On Qualifiers Day, the team departed from their designated base at Carrico Performance Center for the fifth round of the season. The air was cool, maybe a bit chilly, and the sunless sky cast a mild, grayish hue over everything.


    All five coach buses and seven trucks were lined up and ready to roll, though the trucks had taken a two-hour head start to ensure everything arrived at the circuit on time.


    Luca stepped onto the bus, immediately feeling cosy and snug. Maybe it was the weather¡ªthe crisp air compelling him to bundle up.


    He was wrapped in a thick windproof winter jacket, branded for Jackson Racing, with thick gloves, thick socks tucked inside his shoes, and a nose mask that warmed his face with each breath.


    The Jackson Racing crew moved with quiet purpose, filing into their seats efficiently due to constant practice of doing this. All the buses filled up quickly, leaving little room to spare.


    Luca casually sank into a window seat, pulled off his mask, and exhaled deeply, a breath filled with satisfaction, relief, and anticipation, all woven into one.


    The relief and satisfaction came from knowing Jackson had confirmed he would race on Sunday, securing his participation in today''s Qualifiers. The anticipation, however, stemmed from the weight of expectations¡ªnot just for today, but for race day as well.


    Luca was well aware that his consistent selection was beginning to irritate Di Renzo, but he didn''t mind. Di Renzo had only competed in one Grand Prix this season, while Luca was now heading into his fourth.


    That had to sting. To have someone suddenly emerge out of nowhere and snatch the number two seat you had barely been holding onto must feel demeaning for the fellow Italian.


    But as said, Luca didn''t mind. He now understood success always came at someone else''s expense, and he had no intention of slowing down. Especially now he was greedy and hungry for points. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As expected of the weather at this time of year, rain had fallen the night before and even on the very day of everyone''s arrival.


    The roads of S?o Paulo were slick and glistening, drenched from the persistent showers. Jackson''s convoy speared through the mist, the tires of all vehicles tearing through the residue water and puddles on the roads.


    Luca could still see the wonderful city despite how raindrops clung stubbornly to the windows, especially his own.


    The roads were dark, the city and houses were subdued, making the traffic lights seem more brighter than they were meant to be. Luca noticed Brazil didn''t advertise the race as much as other countries do. He was expecting more banners and posters, but what filled S?o Paulo was simply suburban spirit and street vendors.


    The roads leading to the circuit grew wider and smoother, no more hasty motorcyclists and slow-moving cars in front of them.


    Every now and then, they''d pass a group of people in raincoats who were likely headed to the circuit on foot. The people would wave happily to their convoy as they rolled past.


    This made Luca wonder which F1 team the country of Brazil was in most support for.


    The strongest contenders in his opinion were Velox Hispania and Iberia Grand Prix, both being very old F1 teams. With both teams having deep ties to Spain and Portugal, it was natural for Brazil to feel a connection to them.


    Velox Hispania, in particular, carried the Spanish racing legacy with pride, while Iberia Grand Prix represented both Spanish and Portuguese motorsport heritage. So, Luca''s best guess was Iberia GP.


    To be sure, he paused his music and googled it. He was right.


    Iberia Grand Prix was indeed the team with the strongest Brazilian support. They had been founded quite early in Formula racing to establish an Iberian presence in Formula 1.


    Over the decades, their drivers, many of whom had ties to Portugal, naturally drew in Brazilian fans, given the deep historical connection between Brazil and Portugal.


    Luca wondered if they liked Hank Rice.


    They arrived at the circuit¡ªAut¨®dromo Jos¨¦ Carlos Pace¡ªand disembarked the bus.


    It was a very vast circuit, extremely wide and big that Luca felt small standing on the wet asphalt of the team''s parking lot. The sunlight struggling to break through from the cloud clover gave beauty to the place.


    The circuit was blended with nature. They were plains all around, hills around the track, green slopes falling and rising!


    One could barely see the track from a certain angle. If someone stood at the back of one of the slopes, he might think this was some forgotten farmland somewhere in the Netherlands.


    The grandstands didn''t even seem like they would contain 200,000 spectators like it was said it would. This illusion was created by the enormity of the surrounding landscape, where the track and stands looked minuscule compared to the expansive dark green that surrounded them.


    Even the massive facilities, all towering structures in the venue felt dwarfed by the immense backdrop of nature, as if they were just a tiny piece of something far greater.


    Just like the Hollywood sign in Las Vegas, there was a massive sign proudly displaying "Aut¨®dromo Jos¨¦ Carlos Pace" perched high above the circuit on one of the hills.


    One of the crew members had told Luca that if the race were held at night, the sign would glow, illuminating the entire circuit from that angle.


    Luca retired his headphones and stashed them into his duffel bag before gripping the handle and joining the rest of the team. As he walked, his eyes caught sight of a few fans scattered on one of the nearby hills, making him wonder just how porous the security at Interlagos really was.


    There definitely was no way to fully secure the circuit, was there? The track was nestled between two lakes, easily accessible to anyone, and the hills surrounding it offered countless vantage points for spectators. He couldn''t help but think how simple it might be for someone to sneak through.


    The landscape was an open invite to anyone. Since almost a thousand were already wandering about on qualifiers, on race day, the Brazilian Grand Prix would have more than just that 200k spectators.


    Four out of ten teams had already arrived¡ªOutback Performance, Nordvind Racing, Haddock and Alpine. Jackson made the fifth attendance.


    They took to their garage where the equipment workers had already unloaded everything and designed the garage to their theme taste.


    [Generating track layout....]


    [Successfully generated.]


    [Total distance: 4 km]


    A very small track, hence its huge number of laps¡ª70


    [...


    ©°T15©´


    T1©¼ ©¸©¤T14©¤T13©¤T12


    \\ |


    T2 T11


    \\ |


    T3 ©°T6©´ T10


    \\ | | ©¸T9


    ©¸©¤T4©¤T5©¤T7©¤©¤ T8©¼ ...]

 Chapter 331 - 331: Fifth Round Qualifier

    Intermediary tires are a type of tire used in Formula 1 and other motorsports, designed specifically for wet track conditions that are not fully soaked but also not completely dry.


    These tires are fully optimized to provide grip in light to moderate rain or damp conditions.


    They are made with a tread pattern that is more aggressive than dry-weather tires but less so than full wet tires. The grooves on intermediary tires help to channel water away from the tire''s surface, preventing hydroplaning, while still offering sufficient grip on the wet but not flooded track.


    Typically, intermediary tires are used when the track is drying after a rainstorm or when the weather is unpredictable, making it too risky to use dry tires but not wet enough for full rain tires.


    In those conditions, the intermediary tires offer a balance between wet-weather performance and the ability to provide good grip on drying asphalt.


    This was the tire type Luca was set to use for the qualifiers, as Interlagos seemed to align perfectly with every condition that made intermediates the ideal choice.


    The track was still wet, making traction and grip a critical concern for this qualifying session¡ªespecially with every driver relying on pure speed as their main weapon.


    The intermediary tires would help reduce the risk of spinouts and crashes, but they wouldn''t eliminate the challenge completely. Drivers still had to manage their cars carefully to avoid costly mistakes.


    Luca, however, was fully prepared. Knowing that the Brazilian Grand Prix was infamous for its wet race conditions, he had wisely utilized the tools he earned from his victory at the Bahrain Grand Prix to maximize his control and performance.


    His main targets were anything that had to do with tire, good grip and enhanced driving on wet conditions.


    As part of his rewards from Bahrain, Luca had received five (5) Catalysts and two (2) Wrenches. He had the option to use them entirely for himself, convert them to benefit the car, or distribute them between both. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He chose the balanced approach.


    Luca invested four (4) out of his five (5) Catalysts into Slipsense & Rainborne, a skill crucial for handling wet surfaces with precision.


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 4 Catalysts to Slipsense & Rainborne]


    With only one (1) Catalyst remaining, he decided to allocate it to Corner Chopping, which was currently at level 18. This upgrade would bring it up to level 19, just one point away from completion.


    But Luca deliberately held off on finishing it. Instead of maxing it out immediately, he wanted to push Slipsense & Rainborne as much as possible. He hoped that sometime during the race, he''d be able to earn that last point in Corner Chopping naturally and then complete it.


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 1 Catalysts to Corner Chopping]


    [Corner Chopping: 18 ¡ú 19


    Slipsense & Rainborne: 3 ¡ú 7 ]


    At least (7) would be better than (3). A point of (7) would go relatively well with the tire features under the car''s status.


    Next, Luca moved on to his Wrenches¡ªand he used them just as strategically.


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 1 Wrench to Gripper]


    [Gripper: 10 ¡ú 11]


    He didn''t apply both Wrenches to Gripper because, realistically, he wouldn''t notice a major difference between (11) and (12). Instead, he spread the upgrades wisely.


    While Gripper went from (10) to (11), the other Wrench was invested into the car''s attributes, applying upgrades to three key areas as per the Tuning Upgrade conversion and usage rate.


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 1 Wrench to Selected Attributes]


    [Braking Efficiency: 21 ¡ú 22


    Handling: 18 ¡ú 19


    Tire Wear Management: 18 ¡ú 19]


    Now, all major car attributes were approaching the 20-mark, signaling that a new Car Skill was just around the corner.


    Luca took a deep breath.


    [Current Inventory:


    ¡ª Catalysts: 0


    ¡ª Wrenches: 0]


    "...Attention all teams and drivers. The qualifying session for the S?o Paulo Grand Prix is set to begin shortly. Please ensure all personnel are clear of the pit lane as we prepare for the start of the session..."


    "Let''s go, let''s go! We need to be out first!" one of the engineers called out, waving Luca and Rodnick toward their cars.


    Luca, who was just putting on his balaclava, scurried to the center of the garage. It was a flurry of motion, voices overlapping as everyone scrambled to get everything in place.


    The urgency emitted from all ten garages were the same because everyone wanted to hit the track as soon as possible. With the damp conditions, every second spent adapting could make a crucial difference.


    Luca watched from the eye holes in his sock as a crew member tightened the last straps on his gloves. Another crew member double-checked his helmet, while a third tapped at the telemetry screen, confirming real-time data was streaming properly.


    Across him, Rodnick was going through the same motion. Luca could see the outline of his deep frown of concentration from the black head sock.


    "..The pit exit light will turn green in five minutes. Drivers must adhere to the designated qualifying regulations, track limits, and safety protocols. Any infringements will be reviewed by race control..."


    The sides of the track were already filled with FIA officials and marshals, press and reporters. Even two helicopters had just taken up to the sky.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Ferrari (JRX-92B]


    Red¡ªRed¡ªRed¡ªRed¡ªRed


    Green¡ªGreen¡ªGreen¡ªGreen¡ªGreen


    "Alright, fire it up. We''re sending you both out now."


    Luca glanced at Rodnick from his cockpit as Interlagos'' wetness lay before them¡ªthe Grandalh?o grandstands, the towering buildings, and the vast green plains beyond. The crowd was alive, their cheers blending into the hum of engines, but Rodnick seemed completely unbothered by it all.


    He didn''t even look back at Luca, his expression unreadable, almost bored. Disinterested, as if this was just another ordinary day.


    And yet, when it truly mattered, he would still deliver an exceptional performance. Luca scoffed, shaking his head. He couldn''t wrap his head around how Rodnick did it¡ªhow he could look so detached and then dominate the track later on.


    Jackson''s countdown ticked away. As soon as thirty seconds had passed, Luca followed the instructions and rolled out onto the track first, with Rodnick shadowing him closely, ready to begin.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    The people all around Interlagos cheered as the first cars thundered onto the circuit, but their cheers were soon drowned out by the deep, growling roars of multiple engines firing up in quick succession.


    One by one, the pitlane was filled. All cars emerged from their garages menacingly like beasts let loose. They''d then cut in line through the mist.


    Within seconds, the entire track entrance became a flood of machinery of different manufacturers and brands. Luca''s eyes mirror showed the reflection of the wave of rivals, almost all eighteen of them.


    The pitlane and its exit that was usually a place in the track for routine now looked like an aggressive battlefield as Qualifiers officially began.


    Luca already knew traffic was going to be a problem, so he braced himself for it. Currently, he was the foremost driver, so he believed he could set the first fastest lap if he made use of the opportunity.


    [Turn type: Tight Left-hander ] [Angle: 70¡ã] [Braking Point: 120 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 110 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    The first corner of the Brazilian circuit was very much similar to Bahrain''s. Since the Bahrain GP wasn''t that long ago, for Luca it felt as if he navigated the same Turn 1.


    The only difference was the wetness. The distinction wasn''t much, but Luca felt a change in his brake and grip efficiency as made it through the turn.


    Without wasting any time, everyone''s tires began to spray a thin curtain of water behind them.


    Talk about pushing for the fastest lap in such a condition.


    As small as Interlagos was, Luca quickly reached the first straight.


    [900m Straightway ahead]


    After running down the straight, there came Turns 4 and 5. To their left was the next Straight that cut perfectly through the middle of the track.


    [650m Straightaway ahead]


    From there, a driver could have the best view of both sides of the circuit.


    After the straight was the only chicane on the circuit. It was called the Serpente de Cascata because of its S-shaped high-speed appearance since it flowed downhill in a sweeping motion, requiring drivers to carry speed while managing grip.


    [Chicane type: S-shaped, Flowing downhill] [Angles: 80¡ã, 180¡ã, 180¡ã] [Braking Zone : 120 meters before first apex] [Recommended Entry & Through Speed: 220 ¡ª 190 km/h]


    The wet track made it difficult to build up tire warmth, but by the time Luca made it out of the chicane and to Turn 11, he began to see optimal tire warmth in his system display.


    [Turn type: Slow Left-hander ] [Angle: 90¡ã] [Braking Point: 70 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 130 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    [Perfectly flowed!]


    From Turn 11 onwards to the home straight was smooth driving because there was nothing else but slight kinks to just subtly shift the track structure for some competitiveness.


    [Turn type: Fast Left-hander ] [Angle: 45¡ã] [Braking Point: N/A meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: Full throttle] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    The difficult part of the track was gone, so Luca entered safe section three, his 056 finally finding its voice amidst the vast expanse of dark green and slick curbs lining the track.


    [Turn type: Fast Left-hander ] [Angle: 45¡ã] [Braking Point: N/A meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: Full throttle] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    [Turn type: Gentle left-hand Kink ] [Angle: 15¡ã] [Braking Point: N/A meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: Full throttle] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    [Turn type: Gentle left-hand Kink ] [Angle: 20¡ã] [Braking Point: N/A meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: Full throttle] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    [Home Straight Ahead]


    **Tire temp is all set. Let''s fly this lap**

 Chapter 332 - 332: Brazilian Grand Prix

    Race Day: May 16, Aut¨®dromo Jos¨¦ Carlos Pace, S?o Paulo, Brazil.


    Isabella was the reason Luca''s pre-race playlist had slightly changed. He didn''t want to accept the shift at first, but here he was, listening to her recommendations on repeat.


    One day, Luca had casually decided to play his songs out loud in the gym while he worked out. It wasn''t something he did often, but considering he lived far away from normal civilian settlements, he thought it was worth a try.


    After all, he had seen plenty of short motivational workout videos on social media, with jacked dudes blasting their tunes to get pumped up, and he wanted to get that booming motivation himself.


    He had totally forgotten Isabella was visiting and was somewhere else in the house. The speaker of his boom box throbbed and pulsed loudly, its bass resonating throughout the walls of the spacious gym. The sound seemed to fill the entire place, amplifying every beat.


    For Luca, the tempo was just fine, and he pressed on with his exercises, completely caught up in his routine.


    Halfway through his reps, the door to the gym flew open. Startled, Luca paused and turned around to see an angry girlfriend at the doorway.


    It turned out the music had been way louder than he had anticipated, and it had disturbed Isabella, who had been trying to read in another room. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca found the scene funny¡ªhe hadn''t realized how intense the music had been¡ªbut he quickly apologized, promising to turn the volume down.


    Isabella nodded approvingly, but before she left, she suggested that even mellow songs could help imbue that same motivation that his heavy metal music did.


    Luca reluctantly gave her the green light, and so Isabella filled his playlist with tons of moody, atmospheric music tracks.


    The songs were soft, the complete opposite to his OGs. Luca didn''t want to reject Isabella''s recommendations, so he just accepted it.


    He had never been a fan of melodies, steady rhythms and songs that draw someone into a trance. Luca wanted the buzz from his high-energy music and nothing else, but after listening to a few songs, he calmly sat down and decided to take a good look at what the heck Isabella had just put in his phone.


    Isabella had been right. In her subtle way, she''d helped him realize that motivation didn''t always have to come from the loudest or fastest soundtrack¡ªit could also come from something quieter, more introspective.


    Now, the music was calming his nerves and sharpening his mind as he bounced up and down to stretch his legs.


    Maybe in Formula 1, he needed a calm, serene mind, one different from the chaos he had in his head in Formula 2. Perhaps, this still, placid mindset, contrasting from the fast-paced havoc on track, was what he needed for peak performance.


    When Luca removed his headphones, a different kind of chorus filled his ears.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...P10, Ansel Hahn..!"


    "...P9, Luis Dreyer...!"


    "...P8, Davide DiMarco....!"


    Yes, even Luca couldn''t believe it. The stunner wasn''t the fact that DiMarco had qualified for P8, but that ANSEL qualified P10.


    Ansel?!


    It could be because Hank Rice, Ailbeart Moireach and Denko all crashed in the qualifiers, hence pushing everyone up a position each from their fall.


    But the fact remained Ansel was now in a point spot and if he finished the race in P10 at least, he''d finally have a point in the standings.


    Luca felt a wave of pride for his ex-teammate. The first driver from Trampos and Alpine to qualify for P10 this season, breaking the ongoing curse. And historically speaking, the first driver to qualify P10 with a B-level engine in the midst of superiors.


    How cool!


    P1¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P2¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P3¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P4¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P5¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P6¡ª Luca Rennick


    P7¡ª James Lockwood


    P8¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P9¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P10¡ª Ansel Hahn


    P11¡ª Javier Montez


    P12¡ª Mikhail Petrov


    P13¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    P14¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    P15¡ª Desmond Lloyd


    P16¡ª Jacob Jakobsen


    P17¡ª Erik Haas


    P18¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P19¡ª Hank Rice


    P20¡ª Denko Rutherford


    Holding on to the P10 spot would be difficult because Ailbeart and Rice would most likely push their way up even though they would start at the back.


    "...P7, James Lockwood...!"


    "...P6, Luca Rennick...!"


    Luca was not entirely happy with his qualified position, but he was satisfied. The qualifiers had begun calmly but when it was time to put up scores by flying laps, there was so much traffic that everyone had themselves battling for space, resulting to Ailbeart''s crash when he dueled with Rodnick.


    No Daily Quest related to the race today.


    Luca received taps to his back as he entered the cockpit of his 92B. The crew helped fix the HANS perfectly while Luca stared ahead at the enormously overfilled circuit.


    [SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]


    [SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]


    [Host is now synced with Ferrari (JRX-92B)]


    "....And there is Luca Rennick, strapping into his Ferrari. A young driver with great tactical awareness can never be counted out here at Interlagos..."


    "..The weather remains a key factor today. After the wet qualifiers that threw the grid into chaos, the track still remains wet as a light drizzle falls on all of us...."


    "...Tire strategy is going to be crucial, and teams will need to get it right from the very start..."


    "...200,000 passionate fans, the plains and hills are filled, S?o Paulo is ready for the second consecutive F1 action in the month of May...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Having been synched to his single-seater, Luca could feel every trickle of the light drizzle on his machine. He weaved steadily to the sixth box while Rodnick advanced forward to the fourth.


    "...The tension is thick as the grid finalizes its formation. The Brazilian fans are on their feet, roaring for the start! Engines are fired up, mechanics are clearing the track, and the five red lights are about to illuminate...!"


    Just like Luca had predicted, the attendance for the Brazilian Grand Prix had surpassed the estimated 200,000 spectators.


    From his spot on the grid along the home straight, he could see a seemingly endless sea of fans spread across the entire circuit. The grandstands were overflowing, but that was only the beginning. Spectators dotted every hillside, every available patch of grass, and even the rooftops of nearby buildings.


    Some had gone as far as climbing onto the massive Hollywood-like sign displaying the circuit''s name, desperate to get the best possible view of the action.


    Only now was Luca truly realizing the sheer scale of this event or any event tied to Formula racing. Above him, a fleet of drones hovered and several helicopters circled the venue.


    Maybe it was just Interlagos¡ªthe Brazilian Grand Prix. While the whole world was watching, the whole of Brazil was here.


    Out of all the races in the calendar, Luca would do anything to win this one.

 Chapter 333 - 333: Brazilian Grand Prix. 2

    Similar to the Monaco Grand Prix, the Brazilian Grand Prix featured a crash on the opening lap. It was none other than Erik Haas of Trampos Racing.


    He had DNFed in a very bad way, which meant an utter failure to finish, and the car was unable to be revived no matter how he tried.


    Interlagos didn''t have many barriers, so when Haas spun out of the track due to poor grip caused by the wet conditions, he basically tumbled into a trench and got stuck in its dip.A safety flag session was called, and the routine followed to make the track safe by removing Haas'' Dallara.


    XXX¡ª Erik Haas


    Luca wondered how Haas'' crash would fuel Ansel''s motivation to finish in the top ten.


    [DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:


    -Car Speed: 225 km/h


    -Heart Rate: 117 bpm


    -Operational Status: 90% (V. Good)


    -Breathing: Calm & Steady


    -Distance covered: 20000m


    -Time: 8 min. ]


    Currently in the 5th Lap, Luca currently sat at P8. This was two spots below his starting position. It wasn''t where he wanted to be, but the race was still at its early laps with more to come.


    It wasn''t a bad start for Luca, because he had successfully executed Grid Launch at lights out, and got a surprising immediate point to Slipsense & Rainborne at the 3rd Lap.


    [Grid Launch +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    At lights out, using Grid Launch, Luca was able to overtake Nystr?m even before the line.This took him to P5 so early in the race, leaving a ranting Nystr?m in his wake.


    However, a poorly calculated move, orchestrated by the slick track at Turn 5 in the 4th Lap, caused Luca to give an unfortunate gap to his left.


    Lockwood, who overtook his teammate, Nystr?m back in the 2nd Lap, seized the gap. Nystr?m followed in tandem, and so did DiMarco.


    Luca regained his line before Luis Dreyer could attempt anything to relegate him further. sea??h th§× NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    P5¡ª James Lockwood ¡ü


    P6¡ª Elias Nystr?m ¡ü


    P7¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ü


    P8¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ý


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    **You lost three spots there. Any big issues you feel with traction?**


    "Track''s still a bit wet. I had the inside, but it just wasn''t sticking," Luca replied. "James squeezed in, and the others followed. I''m holding Luis off for now."


    **Understood. Keep your lines clean, and we''ll look for an opportunity to regain positions. Marcellus is at P2 now. We''re holding steady**


    "Great."


    P8¡ª Luca Rennick


    P9¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P10¡ª Ansel Hahn


    Looking at the leaderboard, Luca just realized he was just two positions ahead of Ansel. It shocked him, because this was the closest they had ever been on the track after their wheel-to-wheel battle last year in Saudi Arabia.


    When Luca entered a turn, his car tilted to the right in such a way that he got a very brief peripheral view of Ansel''s red Trampos Dallara before he disappeared back into he and Dreyer''s back.


    Luca wondered if Ansel was hoping circumstances could bring them wheel-to-wheel where he might perform some underdog tricks and actually overtake Luca.


    [Analyzing 9th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)¡­]


    [9th Position is 1.5 sec away, host.]


    [10th Lap]


    As the 10th Lap approached, Luca was delighted to receive a notification on a Corner Chopping point.


    He remembered he had previously taken the Skill to (19), meaning the next point now would technically take it to (20), finally completing the Skill.


    [Corner Chopping +1]


    Dreyer had cussed over twenty times at Luca''s defense. He had once touched Luca at the closing kinks to the home straight when he was once very close for an overtake.


    After that touch, Dreyer knew it was wise to sit back a bit for at least one sector before he attempted an overtake again. If he kept pressing even after touching Luca and subtly disrupting his flow, race control would issue a warning for impeding or unsafe driving.


    [Strength +1]


    Back to the Corner Chopping, it had significantly added to the impressive early progress of the Sync Bar in this race.


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    After that, the following notif was what Luca was eagerly waiting for.


    [Corner Chopping Skill completed]


    [New Car Skill Accumulating: 3/3]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a new Car Skill]


    "Please, don''t repeat a skill," Luca silently prayed. "I need something fresh and new."


    [Surge Pulse: 5]


    Luca squinted at the new Skill with mistrust. He shook his head as he read it out aloud.


    "Why do I feel like it sounds familiar?"


    [Ding!]


    [System has detected skill overlap.]


    [Grid Launch¡ú Converted to Surge Pulse]


    Luca sighed, shaking his head. "Oh, come on."


    That explained it. "Surge Pulse" was just a glorified version of Grid Launch.


    This was growth hindrance at its finest! After all that buildup¡ªcollecting skill shards, finally hitting 3/3¡ªhe got a repeat skill?!


    Luca swore he was going to give a bad feedback on Professional Bundle''s mechanics in getting a Car Skill.


    [Optimizing...]


    [Optimization successful.]


    Ding!


    [You have gained EXP:]


    ¡ª Grid Launch +10 ]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    Luca stared at the system''s interface with disappointment as 10 hefty EXP points were added to his Grid Launch Skill''s value.


    But as the numbers flicked in addition, his eyes slowly widened in awe.


    [Grid Launch: 20 (+3)]


    Luca couldn''t believe it! Grid Launch had just been completed just like that!


    One of the most important things in his arsenal had just been boosted by ten without any stress¡ªonly at the expense of a new Skill.


    Although it was great to have yet another completed Self Skill, Luca still preferred getting a new Car Skill at this point.


    He paused, noting the system wasn''t done with its listing.


    [New Car Skill Accumulating 1/3]


    Exactly. The system was still under the temporary alteration that blocks the unlocking of new Self Skills and turns them into shards to unlock a Car Skill instead.


    So, that means after completing Grid Launch, another cycle had just begun.


    Luca also got a tool reward for achieving the sealed seven, which was the milestone for completing seven Self Skills.


    [You have been reward with tools!


    (1) Wrench]


    1 Wrench seemed like a small tool reward for such a huge milestone, but Luca thought otherwise.


    He believed it was the perfect timing to get a Wrench, especially when Catalysts have more odds to be given over Wrenches.


    Luca wanted to store the Wrench right away, but he didn''t want to forget it in this race where it seemed Sync Buff activation was a possibility.


    So, he decided to use it right now, and he knew the exact spots to touch.


    [Generating Car Attributes....]


    [.... Successfully generated]


    [Aerodynamics: 21


    Downforce: 25


    Braking Efficiency: 22


    Handling: 19


    Tire Wear Management: 19 ]


    This was all the reassurance Luca needed. The 20-mark was within his grasp, the first milestone in the Car Status section.


    "Use the Wrench on Handling, TW Management, and let''s say.... Aerodynamics, system. And oh¡ªthanks so much for this."


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 1 Wrench to Selected Attributes]


    [Aerodynamics: 21 ¡ú 22


    Handling: 19 ¡ú 20


    Tire Wear Management: 19 ¡ú 20]


    [Application Successful! All Selected Attributes have been upgraded via Tuning Upgrade]


    "That''s great. And? Anything else?"


    [Ding!]


    [All Attributes have reached 20]


    [Ding!]


    [You have unlocked a new Car Skill!]

 Chapter 334 - 334: Brazilian Grand Prix. 3

    "I hope it''s not going to be a repeat too."


    [You have unlocked a new Skill:


    ¡ªYaw Flex: 5]


    Luca paused for a second. He let his mind analyze the word and the array of Skills he had in his bosom.


    After a brief analysis, he bet it wasn''t a repeat Skill. And the system confirmed it too since no optimisation and conversion followed.


    [Yaw Flex allows the host to finely control rotational stability and lateral dynamics, optimizing the vehicle''s yaw angle during high-speed cornering, rapid directional shifts, and elevation changes.]


    [This skill enhances the car''s ability to pivot efficiently without scrubbing off excess speed, improving weight transfer and minimizing traction loss. It enables seamless transitions between braking, acceleration, and countersteering, ensuring fluid maneuverability and precise handling in complex race conditions.


    [Additionally, Yaw Flex adapts to terrain irregularities, maintaining optimal load distribution and grip retention on inclines, descents, and undulating tracks.]


    [Ding!]


    [Level-up notice:


    HANDLING & DYNAMICS has moved from 97% to 100%


    AERODYNAMICS & CHASSIS has moved from 93% to 98% ]


    Luca was totally surprised by this change. His car now really had a category at 100%?!


    "If I take all those categories to a 100% like the other bigger cars around me..." he began. "Does that mean I''d be S-level?"


    [No, host]


    [Only when 1 category at least makes 300%]


    "Three hundred percent?!" Luca exclaimed. "That''s quite impossible. What the.... Look how it took me to get a 100, and that''s just because it was at 95+ to start."


    Luca hmmed, then sighed and shook his head. Sometimes, he forgot he was in his first Formula 1 season.


    "Thanks so much for the new skill," Luca said, assessing its advantages. "With it, I''m sure I could cut through tricky corners without fighting the car''s weight.


    "Even with an unlevelled track like this, I guess this Yaw Flex would mitigate that. My inclines and declines would be better, and elevation shifts as an advantage instead of a struggle."


    [Host''s understanding is correct. Yaw Flex at higher levels will enhance vehicle control over terrain irregularities, allowing optimal load distribution and grip retention]


    "So, if I max this out, I will be able to handle elevation shifts better than anyone else on this grid. Nice."


    "What Attributes does it affect in a good way?"


    [In Ascending order...]


    [¡ªAerodynamics


    ¡ªHandling


    ¡ªDownforce


    ¡ªBraking Efficiency ]


    [Yaw Flex also supports Self Skills]


    [¡ªOvertaking


    ¡ªReflexes ]


    [Ding!]


    [First naturally acquired Car Skill]


    [You have been rewarded with tools!


    (2) Catalyst ]


    "Use all on S & R right away."


    [Processing request...]


    [Applying 2 Catalysts to Slipsense & Rainborne]


    [Slipsense & Rainborne: 8 ¡ú 10 ]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 62.5%]


    Luca unhesitatingly instructed the system to apply the Catalysts to Slipsense & Rainborne because the weather in S?o Paulo was shifting from mildly manageable to treacherous.


    The drizzle had escalated, not yet transforming into a torrential downpour, but sufficient to obscure the distant grandstands and cast a shimmering glow from the floodlights across the slick tarmac.


    A faint shroud of mist began to rise from the surface, lending the track an eerie, spectral quality from a distance.


    The spectators perched on the hills could no longer enjoy their illicit vantage point, now grappling with the unease of enduring the drizzle despite their raincoats.


    With these worsening conditions, Luca knew grip would become unpredictable, so he committed fully to Slipsense & Rainborne, which also positively affected Gripper and vice versa.


    At (10), Luca felt confident that crashing due to the wet track¡ªas long as he maintained the right tires and tire condition¡ªwas now a distant threat for him, especially compared to other drivers.


    Into the 15th Lap, a catastrophic crash involving Y¨±ichir¨­ unfolded at the Serpente de Cascata, sending a jolt of fear through everyone that this year''s Brazilian Grand Prix might turn deadly.


    It took the marshals quite some time to pull Y¨±ichir¨­ out of his mangled Alpine Renault. He had lost control at the worst possible moment when he crested at the uphill curve of Turn 8 where the chicane was at its peak of danger.


    The wet conditions had sealed his fate. His tires lost grip and the car snapped sideways, skidding uncontrollably into the descent.


    Unfortunately for the Y¨±ichir¨­, there were barriers at that sector of the track because it was well-known for the kind of incident that just happened to him. So, the momentum hurled him into the barriers, and he crashed at an awkward angle.


    The incident was so overwhelming that the whole of Interlagos roared as if the rain''s moodiness didn''t bother anymore. Red flags waved after that, the crash so brutal enough to make every driver on the grid tighten their grip on the wheel and Luca to desperately invest in S & R.


    **Promise of rain, Luca. Promise of rain. Do you copy?**


    "Yes. Copy."


    **Looks like we won''t just be dealing with Intermediates all race. The rain''s still developing¡ªintensifying in patches. Expect full Wets at some point**


    "Copy that. So, next stop... we''ll decide when, but it''s gonna be Wets, no doubt?"


    **Affirmative. Track''s not stabilizing, your grip levels are dropping but definitely not as much as Marcellus''. Still, we have to prevent what happened to Yokouchi. Stay sharp, we''ll update you**


    "Understood."


    "...Oh, it''s looking really dark early on here at the Brazilian Grand Prix! The clouds have thickened dramatically over Interlagos, and that drizzle from earlier? Well, it''s no longer just a drizzle. The track is now fully wet, and you can see the spray kicking up behind these cars. Visibility is becoming a real issue, and the rain is still threatening to get worse..."


    "...Drivers are already struggling to keep things under control, and if this keeps up, we''re not far from seeing the full Wet tires come into play. We expected some rain, but this is escalating much sooner than anticipated..."


    "...20a volta neste Grande Pr¨ºmio do Brasil..!"


    P7¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P8¡ª James Lockwood ¡ý


    After overtaking an Audi-driving rival, Luca had another one in his sights as he hit Turns 1 and 2 ahead of Lockwood.


    [Turn type: Fast Left-hander ] [Angle: 45¡ã] [Braking Point: N/A meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 280 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    As the recommendation stated, Luca didn''t need to brake as Turn 3 was hardly a corner, and more like a soft bend that favoured acceleration.


    He honed the necessary Skills very well as he sliced through, accelerating, and leaving behind a thick sheet of water in his wake. The force of his acceleration, combined with the worsening track conditions, sent a dense spray directly into Lockwood''s line of sight, drenching it in a blinding mist.


    That was as legal as could be.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 6th Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.] S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [900m Straightaway ahead]


    Nystr?m was in P6, his brake lights disappearing as he entered the straight.


    Luca strongly followed suit, latching onto his slipstream like he anchored his Ferrari to the Audi. Nystr?m doubted Luca could align himself to exploit his slipstream just within a few seconds. He didn''t know Slipstream Mastery was completed, so that was completely possible on Luca''s part.


    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect)


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing)


    Car <<<¡ª LOCKED IN (Maximum slipstream advantage)


    [Overtake Window: Optimal]


    [DRS Engaged]


    A perfect and a textbook overtake of Formula 1 standard. Luca''s DRS panel flicked open, and with the sheer aerodynamic boost, he surged forward. His tires kicked up a wild spray of tarmac, slicing through the wet tarmac as he shifted to the right.


    Nystr?m hissed angrily and wanted to defend his position, but Luca quickly committed before he could attempt to remedy.


    The moment Luca''s front wing aligned alongside the Audi''s rear tire, he made the decisive cut back. With a sharp flick, he darted left, slipping just in front of Nystr?m''s nose, reclaiming the racing line in one seamless motion.


    [6th Position]


    "...Luca Rennick em P6, Elias Nystr?m em P7.."


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    P6¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P7¡ª Elias Nystr?m ¡ý


    Nystr?m was definitely not going to let this slide. He had begun to loathe Luca when he actually liked him from the start.


    Still believing Luca was the cause of his crash in China, Nystr?m admired his guts to come halfway across the globe again to overtake him as if he was just another driver in his climb to P1.


    Luca and Nystr?m had the most duels so far this season, and every single one of them, Luca emerged victorious, leaving Nystr?m to hold onto zero wins against him.

 Chapter 335 - 335: Brazilian Grand Prix. 4

    Nystr?m pursued Luca into Turn 4. As Luca took the inside line, Nystr?m''s sixth sense pondered, and then he opted for the opposite. He decided to make a sweeping line through the outside.


    Nystr?m''s objective was to execute a crisscrossing driving path, one where he would naturally flow from the outside of Turn 4, where he was, to the inside of Turn 5 due to the track''s structure.


    However, Luca was one step ahead.Since he had an overall view of the track and a vivid image of the circuit from his system, he knew the shape, size, and structure of every turn and straight within any sector he was in.


    So, with outstanding intelligence on Luca''s part, Nystr?m''s plan was practically a late thought.


    "...This is heating up now¡ªLuca Rennick and Elias Nystr?m are almost wheel to wheel! These two have been at each other all season, and Nystr?m is not backing down..!"


    "...Luca took P6, but you can tell Nystr?m has other ideas! He''s right in the slipstream, chasing him down into Turn 4¡ªhe''s going for the outside...!"


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca knew Corner Chopping wouldn''t work because Corner Chopping required the rival driver behind to be directly chasing him through the turns.


    In this scenario, Nystr?m''s lustrous Audi was banking at the curbs, marginally away from being victimized by Corner Chopping. So, Luca understood attempting it and losing momentum wasn''t an option.


    He decided to execute his first Yaw Flex.


    Since the newest Skill in his arsenal was an instinctive one, just like Night Mastery and Slipsense & Rainborne, he had a high chance of implementing and leveling it up every time he got tested with tough aerodynamicity at a track structure like this one.


    [. T5©¤©´


    / \\


    \\ T4 ]


    If Luca flowed to the outside, it would let Nystr?m easily transition to the inside, thereby overtaking him. Instead of this, Luca took a different approach.


    He honed his Gripper Skill tightly, as if it were something physical. The four intermediates fixed to his chassis immediately responded by clawing themselves to the wet asphalt with the help of Slipsense & Rainborne.


    Both Gripper and S&R worked accordingly to their values¡ª(11) and (10), respectively.


    From Turn 4 into Turn 5, Luca did not straighten out his wheel like he was supposed to for smoother driving. If he did, he would eventually dive to the outside and would not remain inside throughout the bend.


    So, keeping his wheel tilted and Skills active, Luca remained unfazed as the strongest g-force he had ever experienced rammed into him.


    "Shit!"


    "Even with the Professional Bundle, that really hurt. That deserves a damn point for Endurance! Urgh..."


    Normally, Formula 1 cars battle against the relentless push of air resistance, a challenge built into their very design. This constant opposition was already a test on its own, which was why tracks were strategically designed, built and engineered to mitigate excessive aerodynamic strain through careful layout and banking.


    However, external conditions¡ªlike wind direction, humidity, and temperature¡ªcould drastically alter the balance, sometimes easing the forces but more often amplifying them.


    Right now, though, Luca wasn''t just fighting the expected airflow. He was also defying the typical movement of a car through that sector, forcing it against its natural trajectory.


    Even Nystr?m noticed this and flashed an angry set of gritted teeth, realizing Luca was intent on sticking to the inside line.


    ".. Ohhh, look at that! Luca Rennick is putting on a defensive masterclass. .!"


    " ..Nystr?m had the perfect setup for a crisscross move, but Luca completely shut the door on him. That was bold, that was brilliant, and he''s forcing Nystr?m to rethink every move...!"


    "...That''s how you defend under pressure! Absolutely phenomenal from the Jackson driver...!"


    Finally, half a second later, Luca found his rhythm amidst the blend of opposing forces.


    Perhaps Yaw Flex at (5), combined with the other Skills currently in use, worked. Now, he was out of the stronger air current spot, and he could shift his focus to... Corner Chopping Nystr?m, who was now directly behind!


    Perfect!


    "Son of a bitch!" Elias Nystr?m cursed!


    [Gripper +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 65%]


    [Yaw Flex +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 77.5%]


    "...Unbelievable defense from Luca Rennick! Nystr?m came charging in, desperate to reclaim P6, but Luca was an absolute wall...!"


    "...That was masterful positioning! He knew exactly where to place his Ferrari to deny Nystr?m any space to counterattack...!"


    "...And let''s talk about the conditions¡ªthis track is treacherous right now, yet Luca handled that defense like he was on rails! He had every right to lose grip, to slide wide, but no! He kept that inside line locked down and slammed the door in Nystr?m''s face...!"


    "...And with that, Luca maintains his position and makes his way into the Serpente de Cascata! P6 is fully secured...!"


    [Good job, host. You successfully defended your position]


    Luca noticed that he had a significant drop in his car''s Operational Status. It was little but still significant considering its usual rate of deduction. Luca wondered what it might be. He had already gauged the wet track''s effect, so it must''ve been something else.


    It was definitely because of that stint he pulled. Perhaps, the crosswind, current and g-forces really took some damage on the car just as he felt it.


    Very true. When an F1 car fights against strong aerodynamic forces¡ªespecially in wet conditions with shifting crosswinds¡ªit doesn''t just test the driver''s endurance but also the car''s overall integrity.


    The chassis flexes under the strain, components endure subtle stress, and the balance between downforce and resistance fluctuates.


    Luca''s aggressive maneuver forced his car into an unnatural trajectory, making it resist both the track''s natural flow and the heavy air currents pressing against it. Even with top-tier engineering, that kind of sustained force was bound to leave a mark.


    This made Luca question why his car''s status or arsenal lacked Strength and Endurance Attributes. There was Tire Wear Management, Handling, Aerodynamics, Downforce, and Braking Efficiency, but nothing that directly defined the Ferrari''s¡ªor any other car''s¡ªphysical rigidity and structural resilience.


    "Hmm. But why, system?" Luca asked.


    [Host is reminded: There can be no duplicate attributes between the host''s and the car''s status]


    [By default, host possesses Strength and Endurance Attributes, while the car is optimized for performance-based parameters] S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Unless host intends to switch attributes]


    [Host may exchange selected attributes between self and vehicle]


    [Note: Attribute exchange is a function exclusive to the Top Driver Bundle]


    Luca gave it some serious thought. Real deep thought.


    If he ever chose to do that, it would easily be the dumbest decision of his entire system career.


    Imagine sacrificing his Intelligence or Stamina for something like Aerodynamics? Tire Wear Management?


    Did he even have tires attached to his body?


    Luca chuckled. "Of all the future feature additions, system..."


    [Host need not worry. A time may come when it proves useful.]


    [25th Lap]


    As the 25th Lap opened, so did entries for the first pitstop routine of the afternoon. Many predicted that this Brazilian Grand Prix might be similar to a previous few that had required three pitstops for some drivers.


    Considering the way thunder rumbled in the sky, the clouds getting thicker and more oppressive, the amount of rain that might fall soon could call for that.


    All the teams prayed it would not come to that as they prepared wet compounds for their drivers, black tires with blue linings filling the mouths of the garages.


    Wet tires were the ultimate answer to extreme rain conditions. Unlike intermediates, which handled light to moderate rainfall, wet tires were built for full-on downpours.


    Their deep, grooved treads were designed to evacuate large amounts of water, reducing the risk of aquaplaning and maintaining grip on the drenched tarmac.


    The grooves worked like channels, rapidly dispersing water away from the contact patch, ensuring the car didn''t just glide helplessly over the surface.


    Despite their superior wet performance, they had trade-offs. Wet tires were much softer than slicks or intermediates, meaning they wore down quickly if the track started drying.


    And unlike other compounds, they flexed more under pressure, absorbing some of the rough forces from the road but at the cost of outright speed.


    All ten teams weren''t taking any chances, even though the track was still at an intermediary level. Years of experience in Formula 1 had taught strategists that switching to wets now was a safer bet than simply replacing the intermediates with another set.


    Whether the weather worsened or not, it was better to have a driver on the slick track with wets and not need them, than to risk running on intermediates and then suddenly needing wets.


    "...The Brazilian Grand Prix is heating up, and as we approach Lap 25, we''re seeing the first round of pitstops for our drivers. The track still sits in intermediary conditions, but the clouds are gathering overhead, and the sky is threatening more rain. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and it''s only a matter of time before the track conditions change...."


    **Your grip still holds steady, Luca**


    **We''ll have you in, but later than this. Marcellus boxes at 27¡ªhis tires are down bad**


    "Okay. Understood."


    **Take advantage of the clear track and push. Let''s waste away the intermediates with it**


    "Yes. Understood."

 Chapter 336 - 336: Brazilian Grand Prix. 5

    Luca took a cautionary look at the leaderboard display on the dashboard to assess who and who had visited the pits as the 26th lap was upon them.


    P6¡ª Luca Rennick


    P7¡ª Luis Dreyer ¡ü


    P8¡ª James Lockwood ¡ü


    P9¡ª Elias Nystr?m ¡û


    P10¡ª Ailbeart Moireach ¡ü


    P11¡ª Alejandro Vasquez ¡ü


    P12¡ª Hank Rice ¡ü


    P13¡ª Desmond Lloyd ¡ü


    P14¡ª Ansel Hahn ¡û


    P15¡ª Denko Rutherford ¡ü


    P16¡ª Jacob Jakobsen ¡û


    P17¡ª Mikhail Petrov ¡û


    P18¡ª Javier Montez ¡û


    Luca frowned when he saw Ansel''s drop in position on the leaderboard.


    It wasn''t only the pitstop that had relegated him; he must have suffered earlier overtakes.


    "Darn you, Ansel. It''s just one point. Hold on to it."


    Luca wasn''t even sure what he was in support of. Was he actually interested in Ansel''s progress, or was he interested in Ansel''s previous position as the barrier between the upper half of the pack and the lower half, where a smaller yet impactful group of rivals were creeping up from?


    Whichever it was, the support had failed because Ansel was no longer progressing, and neither was he the middle belt of the leaderboard anymore.Now, Ailbeart Moireach held P10, and Rice wasn''t far behind.


    ...But it seemed Hank Rice was going to visit the pits in this 26th Lap. Luca could see thousands of Iberia GP fans cheering and waving their flags through the drizzle as Rice, in P12, vanished into the pitlane.


    P11¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    P12¡ª Hank Rice ¡ú


    P13¡ª Desmond Lloyd


    "...26a volta neste Grande Pr¨ºmio do Brasil..."


    "WOOOOHH!"


    Luca bet Ailbeart Moireach would soon pause his own race and return to his team base for a pitstop. Surely, after that climb from P18 to P10 under these slippery conditions, his tires must be more than exhausted.


    **Stay sharp, Luca. Velocit¨¤ is getting ready for a pit stop**


    **It could be Davide, it could be Jimmy¡ªwe''re not sure yet**


    **But considering Davide hasn''t made any moves on Jimmy for a while, it''s looking more likely to be him**


    That was true. Luca quickly realized the situation. Right now, Jimmy Damgaard was ahead of Di Marco, which was unusual. Normally, due to the team''s well-known driver structure, Di Marco always took the lead position from Damgaard.


    So, the fact that Di Marco hadn''t made a move to overtake yet made sense. It was likely that he had plans to pit soon, and overtaking Jimmy at this stage wouldn''t make much sense.


    Holding that position would only risk unnecessary tire wear or positioning issues before the stop and would also kill Damgaard''s momentum, making it easier for Luca¡ªa rival¡ªto capitalize.


    Just exactly as Luca analyzed the situation, it happened. Into the 27th Lap, Jimmy Damgaard zipped past the pitlane while DiMarco dived in, trailing after Rodnick who entered earlier, letting Damgaard inherit his position.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Though DiMarco was 2.5 seconds ahead before he deflected into the pitlane, Luca could still analyze his car.


    From the analysis, he realized how bad DiMarco''s tire wear was. No wonder their gap had shrunk from 4 seconds to 2.5 seconds¡ªDiMarco had been driving steadily and carefully.


    The tire wear was so bad that had he stayed out longer for one more sector, Brazil would''ve had another DNF with his name on it.


    "...back to back pitstops here as Davide DiMarco joins his rival, Marcellus Rodnick on the pitlane as they roll to their garages! Who will emerge first?! Rodnick has the earlier advantage, but Velocit¨¤ can be a fast pitcrew...!"


    As free as a highway was the remainder of the home straight. Luca happily sped away into the next lap, moving up not just one position, but two positions above. It was two since Rodnick had temporarily left the pack, leaving an extra position up for grabs.


    One by one, all the drivers eventually snapped up all the points until Rodnick and DiMarco managed to rejoin at P7 and P9, respectively.


    P4¡ª Luca Rennick


    P5¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P6¡ª James Lockwood


    P7¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡û


    P8¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P9¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡û


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [4th Position]


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 2.8 seconds away, host.]


    Luca knew Damgaard''s car was subtly faster than his, the chassis fundamentally better than his own 92B in general. In fact, Jimmy Damgaard piloted the exact same chassis and engine model as Davide DiMarco.


    The Red Bull (RBioL) and the Tempesta.


    It was almost amusing how the team seemed to have decided there should be some level of distinction between their two drivers, and the Tiered Pursuit strategy dictated exactly that.


    However, even if Damgaard had a better RBioL, Luca knew for a fact that his own tire performance was superior. From his system analysis, it was clear how bad Damgaard''s was in comparison to his own.


    While neither of them had pitted yet, Luca''s tire health was noticeably better, giving him an advantage in grip and control.


    And when factoring in the subtle yet significant boosts from his high Attributes, it was inevitable that Luca would start closing the gap sooner rather than later.


    Velocit¨¤ made the call for Damgaard to stay out on track during the 28th lap, just as Antonio Luigi dived into the pits.


    It was a logical and reasonable decision on their part. They needed at least one "active" driver maintaining race pace while the other¡ªDiMarco¡ªwas still in the process of building up tire warmth and regaining momentum after his own stop.


    Having both drivers fresh out of the pits at the same time was rarely an ideal scenario for any team. A quick glance at Squadra proved the point¡ªwhile Luigi was pitting, Marko was still out there, pushing hard in P1, carefully managing his tire wear.


    P1¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P2¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ú


    P3¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P4¡ª Luca Rennick


    So, when Luigi peeled onto the pitlane, Damgaard inherited P2 that he once lost sometime earlier in the race. And Luca, now less than a second behind, zipped by on the wet track into P3.


    [3rd Position]


    Damgaard had managed to escape his DRS on the home straight by indeliberately pulling away when Luca almost got that slipstream hooked.


    Luca doubted he would survive in this Lap 28.


    "...And just like that, the podium battle shifts again! Antonio Luigi dives into the pitlane, handing P2 back to Jimmy Damgaard. But right behind him, Luca Rennick wastes no time and sweeps up into third! Jackson Racing is now officially in the podium spots...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...The 28th Lap is looking critical. Can Damgaard defend, or will Rennick keep climbing..?"


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    Luca grinned when he saw a slight twitch in Damgaard''s rear tires. It was clear now that tire wear was becoming intolerable. With this slippery track, Damgaard could spin out if he didn''t handle his Red Bull well.


    This was going to be a simple overtake for Luca, and he wished Jimmy Damgaard could accept that. The fellow young menace was actually trying to defend!


    With worn-out intermediates?!


    Ha!


    Even though Luca had his own level of tire wear, he could still grip the tarmac better than Damgaard, make manageable turns, and accelerate over the slickness.


    But Damgaard was with an 80% degradation rate and a huge number of rubber millimeters lost. And he was WEAVING to deny Luca P2.


    Without putting much effort, Luca expertly cut through the rain to the outside of Turn 2, chuckling to himself at Damgaard''s pettiness just to not let him through.


    Luca planned to do the same thing Nystr?m attempted some laps ago at Turn 4 and Turn 5 in Turn 2 and Turn 3 since they had a similar track layout.


    "... Jimmy Damgaard is fighting it! He knows Luca is coming, and look at that defensive weaving¡ªoh, that''s bold! But he''s losing traction, and Luca is just gliding over the wet surface, still managing to carry speed..!"


    "...Through the rain, Rennick moves to the outside¡ªDamgaard squeezes, but he can''t hold it! Here comes Luca¡ªthis could be it...!"


    Damgaard, not as smart as he thought he was, flowed into the outside of Turn 3, while Luca claimed the favorable inside line, the best line for the upcoming 900m straight.


    Damgaard gritted his teeth angrily as he realized Luca had asserted asphalt beside him. He decided to fight his ground and hit the straight first before Luca.


    "...a golden spot for Rennick as he slips in through the inside line. But Jimmy Damgaard refuses to give in as both drivers face a wheel to wheel battle before the first straight...!"


    [900 m Straightaway ahead]


    Luca was stunned at Damgaard''s total stupidity! Had he ever seen such a thing like this so far in his career as a Formula racing driver? He wasn''t sure.


    The fool had everything against him.


    Poor grip for braking and acceleration.


    And a wet track beneath that would amplify the poor grip. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca, on the other hand, was troubled only by the wet track. Even in that, Slipsense & Rainborne had mitigated its effect on him.


    Damgaard was at the brink of a spinout, Velocit¨¤ should just accept it.


    There was no way he could drive an extra 4km of wet asphalt again with those overtaxed tires. So, imagine if Luca honed Side-by-Side King, a skill that''d totally disrupt a driver''s racing ever since it was leveled up halfway completion.


    Luca didn''t want to crash Jimmy Damgaard. Yes, the fellow youngster was a wild card, but he hadn''t troubled Luca to the extent his teammate¡ªDiMarco¡ªhad.


    But Side-by-Side King emerged instinctively, and Luca couldn''t stop it!

 Chapter 337 - 337: Brazilian Grand Prix. 6

    From the 30th Lap onwards, the wild crowd refused to die down. Interlagos spiraled into pure chaos for nearly fifteen minutes before the first hints of calm even tried to surface.


    And even then, the spectators clothed in Velocit¨¤ blue didn''t ease off.


    They stood their ground with the full force of loyalty, waving their flags and banners high through the cold mist swirling beneath the grandstand roof. Their voices collectively rose in defiance, all of them loudly chanting against Jackson Racing and, especially, Luca Rennick.


    The drizzle, now slowly building up into something heavier, still couldn''t drown the deafening thunder of their voices. Every single chant came like a storm surge¡ªunified, angry, determined.


    And to think... this was light compared to what they were capable of. When a great fanbase of a team like Bueseno Velocit¨¤ made their emotions known, the track itself seemed to shake.


    It was all because of Jimmy Damgaard''s crash in the 28th Lap, instantly termed a DNF the moment his tires waved goodbye to the curbs and slid helplessly off the track.


    Luca''s Side-by-Side King activated mercilessly, and he didn''t even need to apply any real effort. Damgaard, with his low Racecraft, gave in to its pressure like bread soaking into water.


    He was completely pixilated, unsure how his focus had suddenly shifted from battling Luca to simply trying to keep his car under control.


    The crowd gasped as Damgaard''s Red Bull danced and twitched like a first-timer on skates, while Luca zipped past without resistance. A glance in his mirrors gave Luca a troubling, calamitous view of Damgaard rattling violently over the curbs that tried to hold him in.


    But the rear of the Red Bull gave way, pushed by the wind, and slipped toward the soaked S?o Paulo grass. The momentum dragged the car sideways into an untidy skid¡ªone that reminded Luca too well of Max Addams'' feat back in France last year.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "Damn you, Jimmy. Those tires were never going to stick," Luca muttered to himself as the red flags was waved.


    It was during the slow safety car parade that Luca finally looked up and noticed the atmosphere in the crowd. He rarely paid attention to the spectators mid-race because every ounce of focus had to stay on the drive.


    But with the red flag halting the action, he found a second to lift his gaze¡­ and there it was¡ªthe sheer magnitude of Interlagos laid bare before him. Over 200,000 fans, loud and restless.


    Most circuits had irregular shapes, meaning their layouts weren''t easy to define. And with an average distance of over 5km, they offered a mix of track and grandstand views spread far apart.


    But Interlagos stood out. It was one of those rare tracks with a noticeably "round" structure. Not that the circuit was one giant loop of tarmac with a circular path¡ªInterlagos had its own fair share of irregularities.


    But from a bird''s-eye view, you could almost trace the entire track within a single circle unlike other tracks.


    With this compact appearance, imagine the altitudinous rise of the stands, how they lined and ringed around nearly every patch of the track like a woven crown.


    Luca awed the expanse of flags, banners, shirts, smoke¡ªraw passion flooding every inch of the view. But amidst the noise and color, one thing in particular caught his attention.


    "...it looks like it''s getting a bit wild here in Brazil, Alex. A driver is out, failed by his tires and the track, but his team is NOT happy. Velocit¨¤ seems to be blaming..... Luca Rennick..?"


    "...this is unwanton rivalism at a single driver. Race control have already announced no penalty for Luca Rennick. It''s true and it''s obvious¡ªhe didn''t even touch Jimmy Damgaard. Pressure has always been a tool to forcing your opponent to bad lines..."


    "...if only the thousands chanting now could hear you, Alex. If only..."


    Luca couldn''t believe what he was seeing from a Velocit¨¤ grandstand.


    Instead of the usual banners hoisted in support of DiMarco and Damgaard, they had HIS banners held up high in the air. And not in admiration.


    These were just like that one he''d spotted back in Monaco¡ªa massive red X slashed across his face, with harsh Italiano words scribbled all around it. His manageably handsome face, totally soiled and vandalized by their spite.


    Luca furrowed his brows, trying to make sense of all this. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mr. Matthews and the other Jackson Racing managers had seen it too, and they were already muttering under their breath.


    This kind of... vitriol wasn''t exactly new in Formula 1. There had been seasons when clashes erupted out of nowhere right in the middle of a race, when slurs were chanted loud enough to drown out engines, and when rival spectators literally set parts of grandstands on fire.


    But it had been a while since anything of this level happened¡ªthis kind of total, unapologetic defamation.


    "Traitor," one of Mr. Matthews'' close men said. He knew enough about Italian just as he knew his own nativity. "That''s the major context," he added.


    Mr. Matthews frowned. "Why are they calling him ''Traitor''?" he asked. "He''s never driven for Velocit¨¤, only Trampos. And Trampos don''t seem to be making a noise."


    The man beside him took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully to give a clearer picture.


    "Luca is Italian by nationality. And I hope you haven''t forgotten his part in Nevada''s ban? Sad outcome. It''s a pity. His father''s team. They must''ve had high expectations¡­"


    Mr. Matthews folded his arms as he pondered thoughtfully, piecing it all together. No wonder Velocit¨¤ were tagging Luca as a "Traitor"¡ªa traitor to Italy and the entire Italian Motorsport community.


    Velocit¨¤, Squadra, and Nevada might''ve been bitter rivals on the track, but in a philosophical sense, they were still an unspoken unity for one country.


    The three of them stood as Italy''s motorsport triangle. And Luca had just shattered one of those pillars¡ªNevada. It was bound to send the whole structure wobbling.


    Mr. Matthews glanced to the left.


    No wonder Squadra were joining in on the defamation. Just as a sea of Velocit¨¤ blue raised Luca''s name and face with bold ? marks, so did another wave of black and silver. "Traitor" was still the loudest label.


    **Luca, it''s getting a bit crazy out there, but let''s focus on the race**


    "Yeah... I know. Just... hard to ignore it all."


    **The safety car will be out soon, and that''s what matters right now. Stay calm, stay focused. You''ve got this**


    "Got it. I''m ready."

 Chapter 338 - 338: Brazilian Grand Prix. 7

    Luca finally made his first pitstop of the afternoon at Lap 32¡ªa very late stop given the conditions. In fact, he was the last to pit.


    Despite his tires holding up better than expected, Luca had started to feel the effects of the wet track. He experienced occasional hydroplaning, and his system kept flashing warnings that the tires were on their last legs. If he didn''t pit soon, he risked much more severe consequences.


    As the rain intensified, the patter of the droplets growing louder and heavier, Luca could already tell those consequences were fast approaching. The slippery track was only going to get worse.


    Mr. Berry commended Luca for his skill in managing the tires up to this point. He acknowledged how well Luca had handled the conditions but reminded him to take the same level of care with the new wets now fitted to his car.


    Analysis: Wets ideal for current track conditions¡ªoptimal grip for wet surface detected.


    P1¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P2¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P3¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P4¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P5¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P6¡ª Luca Rennick ¡û


    P7¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P8¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P9¡ª James Lockwood Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    P10¡ª Hank Rice


    Luca rejoined the race in P6, still in a decent position but now far from the top five, which was packed with the big names. The race had reached that familiar stage where the gaps between cars widened¡ªup to three seconds between each, making overtakes more challenging.


    As Marko rejoined from the pit lane, he slotted into a gap, splitting the difference between DiMarco and the rest of the pack. Luca did much the same, but even though he was now in P6, the gap to Marko was still significant. And behind him, Dreyer was facing his own struggle to close the distance.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 3.5 seconds away, host.]


    [Analyzing 7th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)¡­]


    [7th Position is 2.5 sec away, host.]


    The race was stalling, and positions remained static, frustrating for any racer who craved action. But Luca, for now, was actually content. In fact, he was happy! Take a look at that Sync Bar now.


    [Slipsense & Rainborne +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]


    From Luca''s calculations, all he needed was one more in-race Skill EXP to complete the Sync Bar, then he''d have a one-way ticket to the top of the Brazilian Grand Prix leaderboard.


    Of all the skills in both his and the car''s arsenal, Slipsense & Rainborne had the highest potential for a quick upgrade, thanks to the current track conditions. The wet track had given Luca a golden opportunity to enhance the Skill again and again.


    Now it was officially raining. Anyone could call it rain now, because it was raining. The drizzle had stopped, the clouds had opened like a maw pouring down all it had.


    "...Oh my, it''s now raining¡ªreally raining out there! The heavens have well and truly opened at Interlagos! That drizzle we saw earlier? Gone. It''s a proper downpour now, folks, and the track is turning into a river! Those clouds have unleashed everything they''ve got, and it''s chaos on the circuit...!"


    "...Pneus de chuva s?o agora obrigat¨®rios para todos os carros devido ¨¤ chuva intensa em todo o circuito....!"


    "...Wet tires are now mandatory for all cars due to heavy rain across the circuit..."


    Every driver was now equipped with wet compounds, so the race control announcement was clearly intended to ensure that even during the next round of pitstops, all drivers would swap wets for fresh wets to handle the deluge.


    **Luca, it''s pouring out there¡ªstay focused, wet tires are still mandatory next stop** a different engineer urged over the radio.


    "Got it," Luca shot back with a grin, marveling at how Slipsense & Rainborne was dominating the chaos. "This rain''s my turf¡ªlet''s dial it up and chase down P1!"


    "....40th Lap in this Brazilian Grand Prix...!"


    "¡­40a volta neste Grande Pr¨ºmio do Brasil¡­!"


    [40th Lap]


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 1.8 seconds away, host.]


    This was precisely where Luca''s Slipsense & Rainborne was proving to be a game-changer. It wasn''t just about handling the slick track from earlier laps, brushing off droplets, or clearing the spray kicked up by rivals clouding his view.


    It was this.


    While other drivers wrestled with the flooded track, their tires splish-splashing, struggling for grip, and flirting with hydroplaning, Luca was slicing through, closing gaps, and picking off positions.


    With S & R now at (11), he was undeniably the strongest performer in wet conditions¡ªhis award from last year was proof of that.


    A wave of nostalgia washed over Luca as he recalled when Slipsense & Rainborne was just at (3). It might be the fastest leap in impact he''d ever seen in any Skill.


    "...absolutely stunning driving on the perilous track from Rennick! He''s charging out of Turn 3, hot on the heels of Marko Ignatova, who earlier dominated this race. Both drivers are locked in a fierce duel now¡ª!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    "...an electrifying battle for the top five as Luca refuses to let the pressure from the opposing fans slow him down. Marko Ignatova seems primed to hold his ground, but everyone can see who''s carrying the unstoppable momentum¡­"


    The rain hammered down, turning Interlagos into a glassy maze of reflections and spray as Marko hugged the inside of Turn 4. He barely escaped Luca on the straight.


    Marko''s tires kicked up a geyser of water that blurred Luca''s visor, but Slipsense & Rainborne remedied that accordingly. Luca then swung to the outside, trusting his Gripper to hold the line. His Ferrari tilted just the same time Marko dived into Turn 5.


    It was too late now to make any moves within these two turns, so Luca followed behind.


    At least, the gap was down to half a second.


    **Stay patient, Luca** his engineer warned. **Straight''s coming**


    Turn 5''s exit opened up to the next straight, the same one that cut right through the circuit. Luca caught a glimpse of some of those defaming banners of himself still raised up high. He chuckled, trying to brush it off his temporal memory, though it still disturbed him.


    Marko floored the straight, eager to get away from the relentless storm¡ªnot the rain, but Luca. However, Luca tucked right into his slipstream, the system flashing.


    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect)


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing)


    Car <<<¡ª LOCKED IN (Maximum slipstream advantage)


    [Overtake Window: Optimal]


    The drag reduction was glorious¡ªhis Ferrari felt like it had wings. Water sprayed off Ignatova''s tires, pelting Luca''s helmet, but he didn''t blink!


    The crowd was a blur in the grandstands, their screams drowned by the engine''s howl and the rain''s hiss as Luca''s rear wings mechanically flipped open.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Marko jinked left, trying to block, but Luca was already ready. He feinted right, then darted back left, keeping his line clean.


    "You don''t have to make this dirty bro," Luca said.


    "...He''s got him..!" For the first time in a while, Luca heard an English commentator bellow in the distance.


    [Turn type: Tight Right-hander ] [Angle: 70¡ã] [Braking Point: 120 meters before turn-in] [Recommended Entry Speed: 110 km/h] [Optimal Apex: inside curb]


    This was Turn 7 and Luca had slipped to the space beside Marko, Side-by-Side King beginning its work.


    Luca knew after Turn 7 came the drop to Turns 8, 9 and 10, all a chicane¡ªthe Serpente de Cascata. It was an S-shaped descent, slopy and uneven, with cambers that could spit you out in the dry, let alone in this deluge.


    Water cascaded down the hill, pooling at Turn 9''s apex, where Y¨±ichir¨­ had wrecked earlier. Barriers loomed close, their steel glinting wetly.


    Luca knew he had to take the chicane first. Every driver knew when navigating the chicane, you had to be alone and undisturbed.


    Marko knew this as well, so he glanced in his mirrors. Without Slipsense & Rainborne, you can vividly picture the fog and blur in his visor. He could see Luca''s Ferrari glued to his side and he had just begun to feel as though the fog in his visor had seeped into his mind.


    As a driver with smart Racecraft, Marko decided to save his race.


    That chicane was a death trap in this rain. The uneven asphalt, the water pooling at Turn 9, the S-shape tightening into Turn 10''s exit¡ªif they went in side-by-side, one of them was kissing the barriers. Maybe both. Ignatova had led this race earlier; he wasn''t about to throw it away on a reckless gamble.


    Then Ignatova made his choice. His brake lights glowed earlier than expected, just before the descent into Turn 8.


    "Smart move, brother," Luca whispered.


    "¡­Luca Rennick''s a ticking bomb out there, folks! He''s so close to Ignatova, one slip could spark a crash! That''s why Marko eased off before that deadly chicane¡ªtoo risky with Luca hunting him down! This kid''s Rainsense is unreal, turning the wet track into his stage! P5 now, and who''s next for Rennick''s reign....?"


    [5th Position]

 Chapter 339 - 339: Brazilian Grand Prix. 8

    By Lap 45, Luca had started to reevaluate his odds of climbing into the top three and maybe even snatching P1.


    The field was now stretched wide across the track, and it felt like every driver was locked in their own personal struggle¡ªthe struggle of grappling for grip, struggling to keep smooth control on the soaked Interlagos track, dodging sudden sprays blinding their visors, and navigating treacherous puddles that threatened to yank their cars off-line.


    Overtaking, positions, and the leaderboard seemed to have slipped into the background as secondary concerns for the moment.


    But that wasn''t the case for Luca. His refusal to settle for P5 burned brightly, his ambitions as clear as a sunny day. He was dead-set on winning here in Brazil for a fistful of reasons.


    The first was a no-brainer: Victory was the ultimate goal every driver chased today, the fire in their veins. Second, a win would dethrone Rodnick from the top spot, catapulting Luca to the pinnacle of the Drivers'' Standings.


    Third, Luca would like to shove it in the faces of every Velocit¨¤ and Squadra fan who''d trashed his name. Taking P1 this afternoon would be a jaw-dropping shut-down, one of the most epic clapbacks in Formula 1''s storied rivalries.


    And finally, Luca dreamed of kickstarting a hot streak, nailing a second straight P1 finish right here in S?o Paulo, Brazil.


    Bahrain had fallen to him. Brazil was ripe for the taking, and Australia loomed on the horizon.


    But with DiMarco about 3 seconds ahead, Luca couldn''t help but question if he''d have to rethink his bold prophecy of a winning streak.


    Then, as if fate itself was fed up with the track''s lull in drama, Alexandro Vasquez of Velox Hispania lost his desperate wrestle with the rain gods. His car gave in to the track''s treacherous, waterlogged grip, spinning out of control in a heart-stopping moment.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    His DNF struck on the very same Lap 45, right at Turns 1 and 2, long after other frontrunners had whipped past those corners unscathed.


    Maybe he''d carried too much speed from the home straight, misjudging his entry into the tight left-hander. Or perhaps his braking came too late, or it was just a brutal hydroplane that locked his tires on the glassy asphalt, sending him skidding.


    Only Vasquez and the Velox engineers knew the real story, while the rest of the paddock could only guess and offer applause as the Spanish driver exited the track.


    This marked Vasquez''s first DNF of the season and his third in two years. You could almost feel the heavy wave of frustration, the gut-punch of another missed chance in this cutthroat championship, as he clapped back to the crowd, trudging through the relentless rain, his wrecked Velox Mercedes abandoned behind him.


    Luca felt a pang of empathy for Vasquez, but he couldn''t deny that the Spaniard''s crash had just handed him a golden opportunity. Thanks to it, a safety car session was triggered, and every driver had to line up tightly behind the traditional safety car.


    This wiped out all the time gaps between the cars, and Luca suddenly found himself glued to DiMarco''s rear wing.


    "...Carro de seguran?a est¨¢ na pista...!"


    **Keep steady on Davide. We have a chance for an overtake**


    "Yes. I''ll be great when we go green."


    "...it''s a smooth procession out there, folks, as the safety car leads this star-studded pack through the pouring rain at Interlagos! The track''s a shimmering sheet of water and these drivers are chomping at the bit, tires weaving to keep the heat in! Antonio Luigi''s holding P1, cool as ever in that Velocit¨¤, but Marcellus Rodnick''s right on his tail in P2, sniffing for that lead..."


    "...The crowd''s buzzing despite the downpour, sensing a restart from these elite drivers that could flip this Brazilian Grand Prix upside down...!" S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    **Luca, safety car''s in this lap¡ªget ready, green flag next lap!**


    "Copy."


    Everybody figured Antonio Luigi would floor it the second the safety car swung off into the pitlane, heading for race control''s fancy sheds to let the race breathe again.


    But nope, Luigi didn''t gun it to wake things up. If anything, he stuck to that sluggish safety car crawl¡ªmaybe even eased off a hair. It totally threw Rodnick for a loop, who was all set to mash the throttle and start piling on some speed and momentum for the main restart.


    As the pack leader, Luigi had been handed the reins by the safety car to dictate the race''s rhythm until the next lap¡ªthe official green-flag restart. So, he chose to tame the tempo, keeping his rivals in check while cleverly preserving tire health during the parade¡ªsaving precious tread for when the real battle kicked off, not wasting it in this tense lull.


    It was a brilliant move, and everyone gave him props for it, knowing their tires needed every bit of grip for the soaked Interlagos track.


    But as they neared the final sector, Rodnick caught Luigi subtly upping his speed, a sly nudge of the throttle. He matched it, staying glued to Luigi''s tail. Nystr?m picked up on it too, mirroring the pace, and DiMarco followed in lockstep.


    Luca spotted the slight stretch in the gap ahead and quickly adjusted his delta to keep tight. In no time, the entire field felt the shift, the ripple of acceleration spreading all the way back to Jacobsen, trailing at the pack''s end.


    "...The whole field''s stirring now, all the way back to Jacobsen at the rear¡ªthis restart''s gonna be a firestorm, folks, and Luigi''s set the stage for a Brazilian Grand Prix showdown...!"


    The crowd, who''d plopped down to rest during the parade, were now jumping up as Luigi swung onto the main straight. Splish-splash trailed him, tires kicking up sheets of water, the pack''s speed climbing from a measly 60 km/h to a zippy 110 km/h.


    Rodnick had to stick to Luigi''s pace (110 km/h) on the straight, while Luigi zipped past the Start/Finish line, he stomped it with pure acceleration, his FiammaVeloce rocketing to 250 km/h in a blink.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Once Rodnick hit the flooded grid himself, he tried to match it, but his car topped out at 235 km/h where Luigi nailed 250. By then, Luigi had already snagged a 1.5-second lead, pulling away like he owned the rain.


    "¡­Antonio Luigi em P1, Marcellus Rodnick em P2¡­"


    One by one, the other drivers roared across the Start/Finish line, diving into the 45th Lap restart. Luca concentrated on nailing a killer Grid Launch for this one. If he executed it right, he might just sneak past DiMarco before they even hit the first turn.


    [45th Lap (R)]


    Luca totally aced the Skill! But it didn''t bag him DiMarco''s spot. All it did was wipe out the gap DiMarco should''ve pulled ahead with, since he''d surged first. And now, Luca was still stuck to DiMarco''s rear wing, just like they''d been nose-to-tail through the whole parade!


    "... Elias Nystr?m em P3, Davide DiMarco em P4, Luca Rennick em P5..."


    "No point for Grid Launch...? Should''ve completed the Sync Bar."


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 4th Position]


    [You are 0.8 seconds away, host.]


    **Luca, you''re right on DiMarco¡ªless than a second, mate, this is golden for the overtake!**


    **One turn and his toast**


    "Understood."


    Without even trying hard, Slipstream Mastery started to kick in, bubbling up like second nature.


    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    [Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect)


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing) ]


    [? Slipstream Engagement failed!]


    [Overtake Window: Uncertain]


    Luca hadn''t even meant to chase DiMarco''s slipstream right now, knowing full well that Turn 1''s tight, slick curvature would mess with the airflow.


    DiMarco had already swung into the perfect inside line, snapping their nose-to-tail link for a split second as he carved through the wet corner, before Luca dove in right behind him.


    "¡­ough it''s the closest of all between DiMarco and Rennick into the restart¡­"


    With their cars so close it was already being called a flat-out duel, Luca knew DiMarco would fight tooth and nail to keep him back, but it wasn''t about what DiMarco wanted in the end.


    Luca''s Overtaking Skill had been the first to hit max level ages ago, so he never second-guessed when to make his move. Plus, he was hands-down the sharper driver in the wet, his Slipsense & Rainborne thriving on this soaked track.


    So, barreling into Turn 2, Luca swung out of Turn 1 neck-and-neck with DiMarco, their cars mirroring each other side by side. Side-by-Side King didn''t even get a chance to kick in before Luca surged forward, slicing ahead with a clean overtake, his Ferrari kicking up a thick curtain of rainwater that drenched DiMarco''s visor.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [4th Position]


    Luca barely had a moment to brace before DiMarco struck back, snatching the inside line of Turn 3 with a bold dive.


    **He''s back at you¡ªstay tight, you''ve got this!**


    [5th Position]


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "Darn!" DiMarco hissed, his tires flirting with disaster as he felt a scary slip of grip at Turn 3''s slick apex. He shot a glance at Luca, pure shock written across his face as the kid handled a near-hydroplane like it was just another Sunday.


    It was right there Luca retook the P4 again.


    [4th Position]


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "¡­such a ferocious back-and-forth of positions! Such blistering driving! Luca Rennick and Davide DiMarco are putting on a masterclass in this Brazilian Grand Prix, swapping places like they''re dancing on this rain-soaked track! Luca''s got the edge before the straight, DiMarco''s down to P5..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [Slipsense & Rainborne]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]

 Chapter 340 - 340: Brazilian Grand Prix. 9

    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]


    [SYNC BAR COMPLETE]


    "Great. Finally, we have it."


    [Host, Sync Buff can now be used.]


    Luca could hardly wrap his head around the fact that the last time he''d tapped into Sync Buff was way back in March, the season''s kickoff at the Monaco Grand Prix.


    Since that wild ride, he hadn''t tasted that god-mode rush again¡ªnot once. The thought of unleashing it now, on this drenched Interlagos track, sent a jolt of pure excitement through him, knowing he could flip the race on its head.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    "Ugh," Luca groaned under his breath. This was where the real headache kicked in for him.


    Timing the Sync Buff''s activation was everything if he wanted to squeeze every ounce of its power. Luca couldn''t think of a single time he''d flat-out wasted a Sync Buff, and he was damn determined on keeping that streak alive.


    [50th Lap]


    Since Sync Buff juiced up both him and the car to their absolute max, picking the perfect moment to unleash it was critical¡ªespecially with only a handful of laps left in this rain-drenched race.


    But before Luca could zero in on the ideal Sync Buff trigger, he had to wait for the system''s Randomized Duration Window feature to run its course without a hitch.


    Sometimes, Luca wished he could just ditch the Randomized Duration Window feature altogether, guaranteeing his full 5 minutes of Sync Buff every time. The system even confirmed he could make that tweak, but it''d cost him 1 Race Win before the system implemented the changes.


    1 Race Win wasn''t even the real issue holding Luca back. His nagging worry was the chance of an FIA investigation rearing its head, like that mess last year when he was with Trampos.


    Getting caught wasn''t the fear¡ªhe knew he''d come out clean. The real problem was the races he could miss while stuck under the FIA''s suspicious microscope.


    In this cutthroat world of motorsport, Luca wouldn''t dream of sitting out a single race for anything other than a team''s strategic call.


    [Determining Sync Buff duration....]


    [Processing: ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ5:00¨ˆ??2:45??? 50%]


    [Processing: ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ?? 80%]


    [Finalizing Sync Buff Time...]


    [...Sync Buff duration determined!]


    [Sync Buff Duration: 1 Minutes, 45 Seconds]


    Luca stared hard at the screen. "I guess I left my luck back in Europe."


    He was not satisfied with less than two minutes of Sync Buff. Such duration could only last for a lap and a half!


    Sure, it was plenty to give him a leg up on the other drivers, but Luca was itching for a rock-solid edge, something that''d lock in his shot at crushing the field.


    [NOTICE: Host is advised that the system cannot recalculate Sync Buff duration. If the allocated time is unsatisfactory, options exist to incrementally extend it.]


    "Hmm¡­ alright, I''m listening."


    [In critical scenarios, Catalysts and Wrenches can be applied to extend Sync Buff duration prior to activation, per the following conversion rates:]


    [(1) Wrench = 1 minute, 30 seconds]


    [(1) Catalyst = 30 seconds]


    The system was laying it out plain and simple: if Luca ever needed to stretch his Sync Buff time, he could just dip into his inventory and pump some resources into it.


    But one glance at his stock, and Luca knew that wasn''t happening today.


    [Current Inventory:


    ¡ª Catalysts: 0


    ¡ª Wrenches: 0]


    Luca let out a sharp sigh, his hands tightening on the wheel as he threaded through the slick, uneven chicane, water spraying off his tires.


    Even if he had a stash of Catalysts and Wrenches sitting unused, he''d still think twice. In the end, he''d probably funnel them into boosting Skills or Attributes before they expired, rather than gambling on Sync Buff''s clock.


    Sync Buff was a rare beast, no doubt¡ªit cranked his odds way up in a race like this. But it still didn''t hand him a 100% guaranteed win on a silver platter. Luca wouldn''t want to burn his hard-won Catalysts or Wrenches on a failed Sync Buff activation when he could lock in permanent gains for his Skills and Attributes instead.


    Another feature Luca figured he''d probably never touch.


    He made up his mind to roll with the 1:45, lean into his grit, and see how far he could push himself when the chips weren''t stacked just right.


    But Luca wasn''t going to activate the Sync Buff now. There were still approximately 20 laps left in the race.


    Now, the second round of pitstops was heating up in Brazil. Garages like Jackson''s were buzzing like crazy, tools clanging, as Rodnick was gearing up to dive in for a stop any second.


    Jackson''s engineers had already pinged Luca that Rodnick would hand over P3, letting him inherit the spot and charge toward bigger fish up the order.


    Luca kept his cool, waiting for the moment to take over. Sure enough, on the next lap, Rodnick¡ªjust 1 second ahead¡ªswung into the pitlane, leaving Luca a clear shot at Nystr?m, who was clearly wrestling with his wet tires, the Audi twitching on the slick track.


    [3rd Position]


    "...Luca Rennick em P3..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    At Turn 2, Nystr?m''s tires looked like they were about to quit on him. His car slid sideways, screeching through the wet curve, and the crowd lost it, roaring like thunder.


    "¡­Whoa, Nystr?m''s skating out there, hanging on by a thread! Can he save it?!"


    But he somehow yanked his nose back in line, barely kissing the curbs before he plunged into Turn 3.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca respected Nystr?m''s ability to pull off that recovery. But he wondered if it was partly because the wet conditions weren''t as brutal as they''d been between laps 30 and 40.


    The rain had stopped now, replaced by a light drizzle that barely coated the track. With the heavy downpour gone, the circuit was gradually clearing, designed with slanted surfaces and porous asphalt to funnel water into drainage channels under the edges, built to shed rain quickly.


    The track was still slick, water clinging to the asphalt, so Luca stayed confident he held the edge here at Interlagos, thanks to Slipsense & Rainborne running strong.


    If the track had dried out completely, Luca figured he might''ve started weighing the idea of trading some EXP for a few Catalysts to stretch that measly 1:45 Sync Buff time into something meatier¡ªif a reverse trade was possible in Tuning Upgrade.


    But his big advantage was still intact, which was why he closed in on Nystr?m so fast through the first turns. Once again, he was tangling with Elias Nystr?m of Nordvind Racing.


    Nystr?m muttered a harsh curse under his breath. Luca wouldn''t even give him a second to relax into a podium spot after he personally overtook Rodnick. But this duel was going to play out differently, he told himself. This time, he''d¡ª


    [900 m Straightaway]


    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect)


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing)


    Car <<<¡ª LOCKED IN (Maximum slipstream advantage)


    [Overtake Window: Optimal] S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "¡­And here comes Luca Rennick, flying into Nystr?m''s slipstream like a missile! He''s locked in with full drag reduction...!"


    "...Luca Rennick em P2, Elias Nystr?m em P3...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [2nd Position]


    [Good job, host.]


    Luca began to consider a possibility. Perhaps, if he made it to the top, a Sync Buff duration of 1:45 wouldn''t harm at all!

 Chapter 341 - 341: Brazilian Grand Prix. 10

    On the 55th Lap, Luca got the call to box for his final pitstop of the race.


    [Tires are in average condition, host. DRS is unavailable. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 35%.]


    [Telemetry reports satisfactory handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. Recommend maintaining current pace for the next few laps]


    [Longevity +2]


    Luca''s tires were still in decent enough shape to grip the wet Interlagos track for maybe five more laps without too much trouble. But Jackson Racing wasn''t about to roll the dice on a gamble like they did in Bahrain.


    Back then, Luca would''ve smashed into a wall if he''d been anywhere but the final home straight at the Bahrain International Circuit when his front left tire gave out.


    He''d just been lucky his Ferrari limped and scraped across the finish line, clinching a win for Jackson in what could''ve easily been a pointless Grand Prix for the team, especially since Rodnick had already DNFed in Bahrain.


    To dodge a repeat disaster, Jackson called Luca back to the pits no matter how much tread he had left¡ªor whether he was sitting pretty in P1.


    "...Luca Rennick em P1...!"


    "...Luca Rennick''s just peeled into the pits from P1, and that''s handed the lead away¡ªit''s a gut-punch to lose a position like that after dominating in the wet! Jackson Racing''s playing it safe after Bahrain''s scare, but you can feel the sting for Luca, who''s been untouchable here in Brazil...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca had gotten to P1 on Lap 52 when Luigi finally had to pit, no way around it. Even though Luigi was way out front, that P1 spot slid right to Luca without him needing to swing past the pitlane himself.


    In the end, Luca closed the gap fast and roared by, fully overtaking Luigi just as Squadra''s pit crew hollered "Release!" after nailing a lightning-fast stop for their guy.


    But it was already too late for Luigi¡ªLuca, The Reckless Maverick, had swiped the top spot on the leaderboard for Jackson Racing, leaving no room for debate.


    [1st Position]


    Then, sitting happily in P1, before the team radio crackled with news to prep for his pitstop, Luca''s mind started racing with visions of victory.


    He figured holding P1 all the way to the checkered flag would pave a clean road to winning Brazil, especially if he could fire up Sync Buff to supercharge him and his Ferrari for the final push.


    That''d be one heck of a way to wrap this race. But then came the team''s call, forcing him to hand over his hard-earned spot to the hungry F1 vets circling like vultures.


    P1¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ú


    Luca couldn''t help but wonder if he''d climb back to P1 again. With close to 10 laps left, and the crowd already starting to buzz with low-key pre-podium celebrations, it wasn''t over yet.


    [System Update: Pitlane Entry Detected]


    [Speed Limit: 60 km/h]


    [System''s prediction: 12 sec¡ª15 sec]


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [2nd Position is 2.5 sec away, host.]


    **Team is ready**


    Wets. Nosecone. Adjustments.


    Luca eased into the rectangular box, mentally crossing his fingers¡ªthough he kept his hands steady on the wheel, no actual gesture needed.


    He let out a heavy sigh as he caught the roar of more than two cars streaking by, their engines echoing through the drizzle-soaked pitlane.


    **Good to go!**


    "1.8 sec baby!"


    That is.... fast.


    "¡­and Luca Rennick will surely rejoin in P4, folks¡ªwhat a blistering stop by Jackson Racing! That 1.8 seconds is unreal, but the wet track''s kept things tight, and he''s dropped from P1 with those rival machines roaring past! But he''s back out and the fresh wets screaming...!"


    P1¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P2¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P3¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P4¡ª Luca Rennick ¡û


    P5¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P6¡ª Antonio Luigi


    [Retrieving pitstop info...]


    [Service Time: 1.80 seconds]


    [Front Tires: Wet ¡ú Wet]


    [Rear Tires: Wet ¡ú Wet]


    [Nosecone: Replaced]


    [Setup: Adjustments Applied]


    [System''s prediction: 12 sec¡ª15 sec]


    [Host''s pitlane Entry and Exit: 12 sec]


    "Darn."


    Within the first sector, Nystr?m pounced on Luca''s less-than-perfect momentum, seizing his chance with a sharp move. At Turn 2, the slick right-hander, Nystr?m dove inside as Luca''s Ferrari twitched on exit, stealing the line and surging past with a spray of drizzle.


    [5th Position]


    For Nystr?m, this was a massive W in his book. It was his first time ever getting one over on Luca in a duel, even if Luca wasn''t at full throttle for it to really count as a fair fight. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Nystr?m didn''t give a hoot about the details¡ªhe''d finally left Luca in the dust this season, and he was hungry for more. A spark of glee lit up his face as he realized Luigi was gearing up to pile on Luca''s misery next.


    It didn''t take Antonio Luigi long to latch onto Luca''s slipstream down the 900m straight, his FiammaVeloce roaring like a beast. Luca tried to block, but that engine''s raw power was unlike anything he''d ever seen.


    It got him thinking about what the S-level version of that engine might bring. From what he knew, these HiCEs weren''t built from the ground up¡ªthey were enhanced, amplified, fine-tuned versions of hybrid engines already tearing up the grid.


    So, when Squadra Corse finally unveiled theirs, it''d surely be an upgraded version of the FiammaVeloce. FiammaVeloce Pro? FiammaVeloce 2.0? Something wilder?


    [6th Position]


    "...what a blow for Luca Rennick! Down two positions after the pit, Elias Nystr?m takes P4 at Turn 2 and Antonio Luigi utilises DRS at the straight....!"


    "...Elias Nystr?m em P4, Antonio Luigi em P5, Luca Rennick em P6..."


    **Luca, P6 now¡ªkeep it tight, plenty of laps to hit back**


    Luca checked his mirrors. Luis Dreyer sat in P7, and he needed to know if he was near enough to pose any serious danger.


    [Analyzing 7th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [7th Position is 3 sec away, host.]


    No immediate threat, Luca decided. He turned his attention back to the track ahead, noting his tires were already gaining solid warmth on the damp surface.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 5th Position]


    [You are 1.8 seconds away, host.]


    Luca understood this was the critical moment. This was where the race''s true battles were set to unfold. Every driver in the top ten had completed their final pitstops, all now running wet compounds on a track that had settled into an intermediary level of wetness.


    Most drivers had likely cemented their positions for the afternoon. That meant every move from this 55th Lap onward carried heavy weight¡ªovertakes, precise control, and staunch defense.


    Luca glanced at his Sync Bar, fully charged, brimming and glowing with steady vivid green energy, ready to unleash.

 Chapter 342 - 342: Brazilian Grand Prix. 11

    Luca chose to activate Sync Buff on the 60th Lap. It felt like an earlier move than usual, not the race-closing kind he''d leaned on in past Sync Buffs. At Lap 60, based on his math, the 1-minute-45-second duration wouldn''t even carry him to Lap 65.


    Still, Luca had a solid reason for triggering Sync Buff by the 60th Lap. Waiting any longer risked getting caught short by the duration''s tight window, leaving him without enough time to maximize its edge.


    The clouds hanging over Aut¨®dromo Jos¨¦ Carlos Pace (Interlagos) were heavy, dark, and brooding, though they''d softened slightly from their earlier menace. This shift signaled no heavy rain was looming, leaving the Brazilian Grand Prix with just a cool, damp breeze and a gray sky, the track still slick but no longer drenched.


    The after-drizzle from the earlier downpour had finally stopped, though the Interlagos track was far from dry. Traction loss and shaky grip remained problems, but nowhere near the disaster of the race''s middle laps when water flooded the asphalt.


    This was precisely why Luca planned to activate Sync Buff now. He wanted to trigger it while the track was still noticeably wet, its surface slick and treacherous from lingering dampness.


    That was his ticket to staying ahead of the pack. The only way he could have the upper hand.


    When he fired up Sync Buff, Luca would pick Slipsense & Rainborne, Gripper, and some extra Skills. Slipsense & Rainborne and Gripper would be unchallenged and he''d crank them to (50) for unmatched control.


    Luca aimed to carve through the circuit with pinpoint precision while his rivals wrestled with occasional slips on patches still damp and dicey. With his buffed FiveSix roaring at peak speed, unhampered by the wet, others would struggle to find grip.


    That edge would stretch his lead by the time the buff ran out¡ªthat''s if he could battle his way to P1.


    He didn''t want to activate Sync Buff now, but at the same time, he feared the track might dry up and he wouldn''t have that grip advantage.


    Luca was still stuck in P6 as Luis Dreyer crept closer with every corner. Soon, he''d be right on Luca''s tail, turning into the threat Luca had brushed off earlier.


    Just a lap ago, Luigi had powered past Nystr?m with ease. That overtake was yet another showcase of the gaping chasm between Luigi''s beastly FiammaVeloce and Nystr?m''s nicknameless Audi engine, which just couldn''t keep up.


    Luca hated that the top five''s late-lap fireworks were unfolding without him. P6 was a rotten spot on the leaderboard¡ªany driver would back that opinion up. Then it hit him and he realized that P6 was even exactly where he''d started this race on the grid today.


    The 61st Lap loomed, and Luca still clung to his glowing Sync Bar, its energy pulsing like a heartbeat. He wasn''t sure why, but his gut was yelling to hold off for just one more lap.


    So, Luca waited, looping the 4km Interlagos circuit for the sixty-first time, the track still slick from earlier rain. He was risking another minute and a half of drying asphalt and the shrinking gap to Dreyer behind him.


    [7th Position is closing in]


    [Analyzing 7th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [7th Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    "¡­62a volta neste Grande Pr¨ºmio do Brasil¡­!" boomed across the sprawling Interlagos venue, signaling that race leader Davide DiMarco had blasted over the Start/Finish line, launching the next lap.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca could feel Dreyer lurking, ready to pounce at any second, now just a single second behind him. That was close enough, so Luca made up his mind¡ªit was now or never.


    "One small step for Luca Rennick, one giant leap for a Brazilian Grand Prix win," he murmured.


    [ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]


    [Y / N]


    "No Catalysts or Wrenches left in the inventory. Alright, let''s do this."


    The system registered his words as a firm YES and kicked into gear, processing his command.


    [INFUSING....]


    [Strength: 31 ???? 50


    Stamina: 32 ???? 50


    Endurance: 31 ???? 50


    Agility: 31 ???? 50


    Intelligence: 30 ???? 50 ]


    [You can only select three skills]


    [Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping/Spatial Awareness/ Night Mastery/ Grid Launch/ Slipstream Mastery/ Side-by-Side King/ Slipsense & Rainborne]


    "..."


    [Aerodynamics: 22 ???? 50


    Downforce: 25 ???? 50


    Braking Efficiency: 22 ???? 50


    Handling: 20 ???? 50


    Tire Wear Management: 20 ???? 50 ]


    [Sync Buff is detecting A-level (Ferrari Turbo-Hybrid 056)...]


    [High-Speed Dominance: 14 ???? 50


    -Heat Management: 20 ???? 50


    -Longevity: 12 ???? 50 ]


    [You have only two Skills so both of them are up for selection]


    [Gripper: 11 ???? 50


    Yaw Flex: 6 ???? 50]


    Luca still couldn''t quite process that his system had upgraded Sync Buff to juice up the car too. For those 1 minute 45 seconds, his Ferrari would be just as untouchable as he was, both dialed to godlike perfection.


    He figured it''d take a while to get his head around this new, game-changing power.


    [Please Select three Self Skills for Sync Buff]


    Having mapped it out earlier, Luca didn''t hesitate, feeding the system his first pick: Slipsense & Rainborne. At (50), he''d be gliding like the track was bone-dry, even while others slipped on the damp asphalt.


    He wasn''t sure what else to choose from the Self Skills lineup. With Slipsense & Rainborne maxed, he was already set to dominate! Yet Sync Buff let him boost two more Skills, a chance too big to waste.


    How overwhelming. It was almost too much to wrap his mind around.


    Spatial Awareness sat at (9), and Side-by-Side King was at (10). Luca reasoned he could use sharper awareness to navigate Interlagos'' tricky layout, especially that gnarly, wet chicane where one wrong move spelled disaster.


    Side-by-Side King would be his wildcard, a weapon to smack down anyone bold enough to challenge his charge up the order.


    [Successfully Selected!] sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Slipsense & Rainborne: 12 ???? 50


    Side-by-Side King: 10 ???? 50


    Spatial Awareness: 9 ???? 50 ]


    [INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]


    [You have 1 min. 45 sec left for Sync Buff]


    The same integrational process that occurred back in Monte Carlo washed over Luca and his car again. He felt a rush of energy flood his veins, his Attributes spiking sharp and his Ferrari roaring with newfound power. For a fleeting moment, it reminded him of being Zen Zoned, that hyper-focused state.


    But no way. If he was Zen Zoned, he''d have thrown his Ferrari into Dreyer''s path on the home straight, maybe even clipped him to hold his ground¡ªwhatever it took to keep his spot.


    "...Luis Dreyer takes P6 into Lap 62, leaving Rennick stunned!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [7th Position]


    The leaderboard flipped fast as they hit Turn 1. The commentary erupted as Luca slammed the throttle at the tail end of the home straight, powering through the wet.


    It was a crazy place to GUN his throttle because drivers were supposed to BRAKE hard there, easing into the tight corner. That spot doubled as the pitlane merge, making it even dicier with water still surfacing on the track.


    But Luca carved through the hydroplane Dreyer had dodged, stunning Brazil and the entire world at large with his nerve.


    Dreyer didn''t even have a second to catch Luca''s move in his mirrors¡ªthe kid had already shot to the apex, pulling level with him in a heartbeat!


    "What?!" Dreyer sputtered as Luca''s Ferrari streaked past like a blur. "With that speed through this corner, the Gs should''ve knocked him out by now!"


    Luca knew with Strength and Endurance buffed to (50), he could handle a fighter jet, let alone this soaked circuit.


    "...Luca Rennick''s just pulled off a great move into Lap 62! He''s blasted through Turn 1''s slick, stealing P6 from Dreyer like it''s nothing and his momentum entails more for the young driver...!"


    [6th Position]


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Luca felt a surge of overwhelming power flood his system, as if every nerve and muscle had been supercharged beyond what he''d felt with Sync Buff in Monaco. It was a level of focus and strength that felt almost otherworldly.


    It was time to mazerun, as he''d done so many times before. It was time to seize this race.


    He studied the leaderboard with cold analysis, mapping out the drivers standing between him and victory. The 1:45 timer was steadily counting down.


    P1¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P2¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P3¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P4¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P5¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P6¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü

 Chapter 343 - 343: Brazilian Grand Prix. 12

    "...WHAT ARE WE WITNESSING HERE IN S?O PAULO, BRAZIL?! LUCA RENNICK IS PUTTING ON AN ABSOLUTE CLINIC AT INTERLAGOS, TEARING THROUGH THIS GRAND PRIX LIKE HE WAS BORN FOR IT...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...THE TRACK''S STILL SLICK FROM THAT EARLIER RAIN, A REAL TEST OF NERVE AND PRECISION, BUT THIS YOUNG ITALIAN MAKING IT LOOK EFFORTLESS¡ªEVERY CORNER, EVERY APEX, HE''S THREADING THE NEEDLE WITH SURGICAL FOCUS AS HE CLIMBS THREE POSITIONS UP THE LEADERBOARD...!"


    **You are the man, Luca**


    **You are all green! Wonderful! Wonderful!**


    [5th Position]


    [4th Position]


    [3rd Position]


    [Downforce +1]


    [Aerodynamics +1]


    [Yaw Flex +1]


    [Ding!]


    [Level-up failed. Sync Buff currently in use]


    "...Years from now, we''ll be talking about this race, mark my words¡ªLuca''s got that rare spark, that raw hunger you can''t teach, and he''s showing the world why he''s the name on everyone''s lips! LUCA RENNICK IN P3...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    P1¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P2¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P3¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    P4¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ý


    P5¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ý


    P6¡ª Elias Nystr?m ¡ý


    [You have 30 sec left for Sync Buff]


    [63rd Lap]


    Rodnick still couldn''t wrap his head around how Luca had snatched P3 from him. His mind kept looping back to that sudden moment at Turn 14, a gentle kink in Interlagos'' layout where the track''s damp surface still tested every move.


    An engineer had already warned him that Luca was charging up fast, but Rodnick had taken it as just another double overtake or triple. Double or triple overtakes were something any driver might pull off on a good day with the right tires and grip.


    He had no clue Luca was unleashing a performance eerily like his Monaco masterclass, a level beyond normal racing.


    Before Rodnick could react, a fellow Ferrari loomed in his mirrors, its silver-blue livery glinting under the grey sky, distinct from Red Bull''s own vivid hue of blue. For a split second, Rodnick swore he saw Marco Rossi''s ghost from their old racing days when they used to drive together.


    Without any real warning, Luca devoured the gap like it was nothing and swung out of Turn 14''s apex, his Ferrari slicing past before Rodnick could even think to block, vanishing toward Turn 15 and chasing Marko, who was already hitting the home straight.


    Stunned, **Congrats** was all Rodnick managed over the radio, his voice flat. Luca caught it but didn''t dwell cause Sync Buff''s timer was ticking down fast.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    [Slipstream Status: ENGAGING]


    Car <¡ª Approaching Slipstream (Minimal aerodynamic effect)


    Car <<¡ª Partial Lock (Drag reduction increasing)


    Car <<<¡ª LOCKED IN (Maximum slipstream advantage)


    [Overtake Window: Optimal]


    "... Rennick is on tear, he has his crosshair on P2! That''d be four positions clawed up from P6¡ªan unreal charge in these wet conditions! He''s locked onto Ignatova, and Brazil''s holding its breath for this young star''s next move...!"


    [DRS Engaged!]


    [2nd Position]


    "¡­and there it is¡ªLuca Rennick''s HAS DONE IT! He''s stormed into P2, overtaking Marko Ignatova with a masterclass move of DRS...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...Luca Rennick em P2, Marko Ignatova em P3...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    **Luca, that was unreal¡ªP2, four spots up! Bloody brilliant, mate, keep pushing!**


    Luca wasn''t sure how much he could push now.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 1st Position]


    [You are 2 seconds away, host.]


    [You have 9 seconds left for Sync Buff]


    Could Luca really pull it off? Could he push his supercharged skills and roaring Ferrari engine to catch Davide DiMarco before the clock ran dry?


    Sure, he was just 2 seconds back, but that was the gap, not the time it''d take to reach him¡ªDiMarco was no sitting target, he was moving. His Red Bull carried the glowing #1 hologram, a blazing symbol of prestige that seemed to shimmer brighter across Interlagos'' damp, open stretches of green.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 1st Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    [You have 5 seconds left for Sync Buff]


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 1st Position]


    [You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]


    [You have 4 seconds left for Sync Buff]


    "¡­oh my word! Rennick and DiMarco are so close now, only half a second keeps both drivers away from each other....!"


    [You have 3 seconds left for Sync Buff]


    DiMarco was ahead, so he swung onto the inside line at Turn 3, trying to box Luca in and force him to trail behind. But that was his fatal error. Luca''s edge was still razor-sharp, he was still running on Sync Buff,meaning:


    Any damn part of the track was his to command¡ªinside, outside, it didn''t matter! Any line could work for him!


    DiMarco should''ve just kept blocking, holding his ground. Instead, he''d handed Luca a wide-open path on the outer line, smooth as glass.


    [Calculating host drift exit...]


    [... successfully calculated!]


    [Gripper +1] S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [1st Position]


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "... GRACIOUS ME! LUCA RENNICK HAS DONE IT! HE HAS SEIZED P1 IN S?O PAULO....!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "....BRAZIL IS WITNESSING HISTORY! A CLIMB FROM P6 TO P1 UNDER TWO LAPS....!"


    "...Luca Rennick em P1, Davide DiMarco em P2...!"


    A sudden impulse gripped Davide DiMarco, urging him to lash out and reclaim his spot by any means. Though he barely held it together, resisting the reckless thought, Luca was already tearing down the 900m straight, a quarter of the way gone, too far for any desperate move.


    Right then, Sync Buff finally gave in and ran dry.


    [Sync Buff has elapsed!]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 0%]


    **Absolutely unreal, Luca! You''ve taken down the whole field!**


    **You''re in P1!**


    It had only been 1 minute 45 seconds, and Luca already felt the void of Sync Buff''s power fading, but relief washed over him¡ªhe''d made it to P1.


    In the distance, he spotted a few lapped drivers weaving through the chicane''s tight turns. Lapped cars always signaled the race was nearing its end, a sign time was running short.


    The 63rd Lap was already underway. The Brazilian Grand Prix was indeed drawing to a close with seven more laps to go.


    Pre-podium celebrations had already sparked in the stands¡ªbright flags waving, chants rising for the frontrunners. Banners hailing Luca''s name now clashed with the bitter, hostile ones still flapping in anger. The ones lifting him up were clutched by Jackson Racing fans, their support hitting Luca like a wave, easing his mind with the knowledge he had a crowd behind him.


    Now more than ever, Velocit¨¤ would be fuming. Luca had wrecked their race completely. First, he had pressured Jimmy Damgaard into a crash early on, and now he had just snatched P1 from DiMarco, who''d been poised to pocket 25 points.

 Chapter 344 - 344: Rennicks Reign

    After Luca''s stunning P6-to-P1 climb on the 63rd Lap, the final seven laps stretched out like a line of cars racing toward the Brazilian Grand Prix''s end.


    There were hardly any big moves after that, since top drivers¡ªDiMarco, Rodnick, Marko, and Luigi¡ªknew how to lock their positions as well as they could pull off last-minute overtakes.


    Luca''s earlier worry about a drying track had happened. Though some slick spots remained, they didn''t cause as much trouble as before. All drivers slowly regained their confidence navigating Interlagos.


    Some drivers at the back chose to make a third pitstop, swapping wet compounds for softs so they could get back better acceleration and grip on a track losing its wetness.


    Of course, the leading drivers thought about it, but none risked heading into the pitlane during these closing laps.


    With softs or not, you wouldn''t recover a lost position at this point in the race.


    So, like a train with different colored carriages, the drivers wove to the last lap as over 200,000 spectators watched. Blarehorns, louder than their engines, echoed across the plains and hills, with colored smoke drifting up to the gray clouds.


    The way the circuit was covered in bright, varied colors took Luca back to his Mega Prix win. A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he sped past the waving checkered flag.


    "YES!" he shouted, celebrating.


    "¡­it''s a second consecutive Grand Prix win for Luca Rennick¡­!"


    "¡­a massive, dominant display on that 63rd Lap! A showcase of the finest racing we''ve ever seen in wet conditions, slicing through Interlagos like he owned every inch of this slick track¡­!"


    "¡­this is beyond Formula 1 standard! Ladies and gentlemen, this is Luca Rennick, rewriting what''s possible out here! From P6 to P1 in a heartbeat, he''s turned Brazil into his stage, delivering a performance that''ll echo for years¡­!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...1st Place, Luca Rennick...!"


    "...Primeiro lugar, Luca Rennick¡­!


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [1ST POSITION]


    **Luca, you''ve bloody done it¡ªP1, mate, back-to-back Grand Prix wins! That climb from P6 was unreal, a proper masterclass on this track!**


    **The whole team''s buzzing¡ªyou''ve made Jackson proud, now let''s soak this one in!**


    "Wooouuh!! Hell yeah!"


    [Congratulations host, you have made a podium]


    "¡­Segundo lugar, Davide DiMarco¡­!"


    "¡­Terceiro lugar, Marko Ignatova¡­!"


    "¡­Quarto lugar, Marcellus Rodnick¡­!"


    "¡­Quinto lugar, Antonio Luigi¡­!"


    The announcements for the final leaderboard of the Brazilian Grand Prix carried on faintly in the distance. Luca could barely hear them as he slowed his pace, his Ferrari easing into a steady roll.


    The realization that he had overcome his rivals, driven by the energy he sensed as they sped by him now, wrapped around Luca. A quiet smile crossed his lips.


    It had been a one-hour, thirty-three-minute race. If Luca felt slightly tired, he could only picture how drained the other drivers were.


    [1ST POSITION] his system kept flashing, steady and bright, as he leaned back to rest.


    On this race win, Luca took his time and stayed in his cockpit a bit longer before climbing out. He let out a long exhale and drew a deep breath, startled to find his breathing still rapid and his heart pounding hard. It had to be the rush of post-race adrenaline.


    But as he glanced at the other drivers¡ªhis rivals¡ªhe saw no trace of that same thrill in their faces. Instead, their expressions carried disappointment, anger, and sharp contempt. Luca gave a small scoff, feeling the warmth of his breath against his helmet.


    He released the steering wheel for a moment, flexing his stiff hands before closing them around it again. A second later, the Ferrari 92B rolled forward once more. He still planned to celebrate in his signature way, but this time with a slight twist to mark the moment.


    Luca picked out one Velocit¨¤ grandstand¡ªthe biggest, loudest one, packed with the most vicious banners and chants tearing into him and his P1 finish.


    He steered his Ferrari toward the barriers separating the grandstands from the track. The walls past the barricades were plastered with Velocit¨¤''s sigil and Red Bull''s logo, marking the stand as a fortress for Bueseno Velocit¨¤ fans only, where rival supporters could only sit at their own risk.


    The Velocit¨¤ crowd spotted Luca rolling their way when he should''ve been celebrating elsewhere. Thousands of them froze, puzzled, wondering what he was up to as he eased to a stop about a meter and a half from the Tecpro barrier.


    Luca drew a deep breath and unbuckled his harness, adjusting the HANS device, disconnecting his radio plug, and releasing the drink tube before gaining enough room to hoist himself up. His helmet broke into the open first, greeted by the charged air of celebration and jeers.


    As soon as Luca rose from his cockpit, the Velocit¨¤ supporters knew exactly what he was up to¡ªand they hated it with every fiber of their being!


    Their curses grew louder, insults sharper, vile gestures more frantic, some spitting toward the track and others shaking fists, hoisting their defaming banners and signs even higher.


    But that was precisely what Luca had in mind as he climbed onto his Ferrari JRX-92B with slow, deliberate steps. He tapped the car twice, his ritual, then lifted his gaze and shoulders to face the great sea of rival colors and bitter faces, their anger practically burning through the air.


    Luca thrust his fists skyward in triumph.


    He soaked in his victory right in front of those who''d been trashing his name and reputation.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Velocit¨¤''s crowd erupted into chaos from every corner of Interlagos, not just the main grandstand he squared off against. S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It was always electric when a driver rubbed his win in his rivals'' faces like this.


    Luca just pumped his fists again and again, fully aware that the objects they hurled¡ªbottles, crumpled banners¡ªwouldn''t clear the first barricades.


    Everything¡ªdangerous or not¡ªlanded uselessly on the damp grass beyond their side, sinking into the wet.


    "I''m here to stay," Luca said.


    Davide DiMarco watched Luca''s display, and it burned him to the core. He clenched his fists, silently vowing to strike back, to restore his team''s pride and settle the score for his bruised ego.


    When Luca felt he had enough, he slid off his Ferrari, landed on the tarmac and broke into a sprint toward a nearby Jackson Racing grandstand, where fans lit up with uncontained joy as he leaped over the first barrier, then the second.


    He crossed the damp grass at a jogging speed and launched himself into the stands, straight into the waiting arms of the crowd, who surged around him in a wave of wild celebration.

 Chapter 345 - 345: Rennicks Reign. 2

    The day after the race, Luca woke up feeling a touch groggy, his body still heavy from the Grand Prix''s grind. But he''d promised Isabella they''d explore Brazil together, so he pushed through the haze, finding the energy to make it happen.


    They were staying at a five-star hotel in Jardins, a lush pocket of S?o Paulo where the grounds bloomed with dense green ferns, vibrant orchids, and tangled vines that spilled over stone paths, the air flourished with the scent of earth and petals.


    S?o Paulo''s bustling city center was as striking as its quieter suburbs. The metropolis carried a calm, orderly rhythm, its streets flowing smoothly in coordination. The only bright spots vivid through the scene were the traffic wardens'' neon vests, the steady glow of streetlights and traffic signals, the pulsing brake and turn lights of cars, and the soft gleam from countless buildings stretching across the skyline.


    Luca had wanted to hire a driver for today. Someone who could weave through S?o Paulo''s districts and neighborhoods with ease, knowing every hidden corner and backstreet. He''d also need to understand local customs to avoid any missteps.


    It was a smart idea, no question, but Luca ended up assigning the day''s long driving task to Vance instead.


    Vance wasn''t a workaholic by any stretch. He was simply the kind of guy who liked having important jobs to tackle, never one to sit idle for too long without purpose.


    So, he''d called Luca up, asking if there was anything he could take on, explaining that Brazil felt too slow and dull for him.


    That''s how Luca put Vance in charge of driving. And since Isabella had gotten to know the entire team by now, she''d probably feel more at ease with Vance behind the wheel than with some random stranger they didn''t know.


    Isabella had barely stepped out of their hotel room. She''d spent most of her time buried in books, leaving the hotel only three times since they arrived.


    The first was for a convention tied to Formula racing. Most Grand Prix weekends came with a side event in the host country, either before or after the race, something educational or fun. Brazil''s own was a seminar not a fun one, heavy on racing insights.


    The second time, she went with Sara and Mallow to a viewing center to catch the qualifiers. The third was race day itself, watching Luca''s victorious battle unfold.


    Unlike what Luca had assumed, Brazil didn''t feel familiar to Isabella at all. Maybe she was just wired for European life, more at home in its rhythms.


    That made him worry the tour might overwhelm her instead of spark wonder, but since Isabella stayed keen and enthusiastic about the plan, he didn''t hold back from pushing forward.


    When Vance pulled up, Luca and Isabella stepped out of the hotel and headed to the car. Just then, Luca''s phone buzzed with a call from Mallow.


    "What plans could you possibly have the day after a race?" Mallow''s voice came through, half-curious, half-annoyed. "I wanted to go over some important stuff with you today, but Manuela says you''re booked ''all day''."


    Luca let out a quiet sigh. "Yeah, just a short tour around the city with Isabella," he said. "We''re leaving tomorrow, so I figured we''d do some sightseeing."


    There was a strange pause from Mallow''s end. Luca wondered what he might be thinking. He couldn''t tell if he was choking back a jab about Isabella or just picking his next words carefully.


    Luca had long picked up on Mallow''s unease about his relationship¡ªespecially his relationship with Isabella. Mallow felt like Isabella was pulling away his young, innocent, willful client. All of a sudden, the young lad was making major life decisions without looping him in, and Mallow wasn''t thrilled.


    Finally, Mallow spoke again. "You''re heading out in public?" he asked, a slight edge of worry creeping into his tone.


    "Man, what''s ''going out'' mean if it''s not in public?" Luca fired back. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m saying the race vibe''s still raw out there¡ªnot exactly friendly!" Mallow pressed.


    Luca took a slow breath. "Like I told you, we''re out of Brazil tomorrow. Today''s all I''ve got," he said, then narrowed his eyes. "What, you think some rival fan''s gonna spot me and start trouble?"


    Mallow gave a shrug through the phone. "Who knows? You''re the guy who climbed on your Ferrari and taunted them," he said. "It''s blowing up online. People are calling it the boldest and coldest move of the decade."


    Luca stayed quiet, letting Mallow get it all out. When he was done, Luca doubled down. "We''re touring today, that''s set. We''ll talk later tonight, yeah?" he said, then ended the call.


    Luca had planned the day to run 10 hours, kicking off at 7 a.m. sharp and wrapping by 5 p.m.


    First, they headed to Trianon Park, right in Jardins. Vance drove them to the small forest off Paulista Avenue, a pocket of Atlantic trees and greenery. They strolled the tiled paths, old branches casting shadows, the air still crisp from last night''s drizzle.


    The short walk cleared out any lingering fog in Luca''s head, the grogginess that could''ve dulled his morning. Isabella was all energy, practically bouncing, and so, he matched her pace. Yet again, she did not drive a grueling race the previous day.


    They kept walking, happy, from Trianon all the way to Paulista Avenue and even down to Ibirapuera Park, messing around near any lake they spotted, where early joggers and families were already out.


    S?o Paulo was a city through and through, so Luca''s hope of finding village-like spots with raw Iberian roots wasn''t happening today. Still, he held out for next year''s Grand Prix, when he might carve out time for that.


    While buying a pastel de frango from a vendor''s cart, Isabella flat-out refused to hand back Luca''s nose mask when he asked for it again. She''d seized it the second they stepped into Trianon Park.


    "Why''re you so on edge?" Isabella asked, twirling the mask. "You''re known, sure, but you''re not Michael Jackson out here."


    "I get it," Luca said, scanning the crowd. "It''s just Mallow''s talk rattling me. He''s got me second-guessing everything."


    "But no one would hurt you, right?" she asked.


    Luca let out a small laugh. Let them try, he thought. "It''s not me I''m worried about," he said, his eyes moving to her, hinting at his real concern. "Come on, let''s move," he added, paying the pastel vendor, who gave him a knowing nod of recognition.


    "The park map shows a shaded path by the Planetarium up ahead, past the lake and those big banyan trees. Vance''ll be waiting just beyond the north gate, circling slow on the access road."


    Back in Jardins by noon, they stopped for lunch at a restaurant called A Figueira Rubaiyat. It was a high-end spot with open-air tables under a sprawling fig tree, but Luca picked a table inside for a bit of cover.


    There, people spotted him fast, and he was signing stacks of autographs¡ªnapkins, hats, even a kid''s race program. The attention kept coming, wave after wave, and Isabella started to see what he might''ve been dodging all day.


    After lunch, they hit the streets for shopping, browsing boutiques on Oscar Freire, then headed to Vila Madalena''s Beco do Batman, a graffiti-covered alley bursting with murals that drew another flood of stares and selfie requests. Finally, they sank into the backseat of Vance''s car, worn out from the long but memorable day.

 Chapter 346 - 346: Pre-S2 Australian Grand Prix

    The 5th round of the season was completely over, and the 6th round had everyone''s full focus. For clarity, the Brazilian Grand Prix had ended in this fashion:


    ------


    Final Race Standings ¨C Brazilian Grand Prix


    ???? Top 10 Finishers:


    P1 ¨C Luca Rennick ???????? (Jackson Racing) ???? +25pts (+1 FL)


    P2 ¨C Davide DiMarco ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤) +18pts


    P3 ¨C Marko Ignatova ???????? (Squadra Corse) +15pts


    P4 ¨C Marcellus Rodnick ???????? (Jackson Racing) +12pts


    P5 ¨C Antonio Luigi ???????? (Squadra Corse) +10pts


    P6 ¨C Elias Nystr?m ???????? (Nordvind Racing) +8pts


    P7 ¨C Luis Dreyer ???????? (Outback Performance) +6pts


    P8 ¨C Ailbeart Moireach ???????? (Haddock Racing) +4pts


    P9 ¨C Hank Rice ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix) +2pts


    P10 ¨C Ansel Hahn ???????? (Trampos Racing) +1pt


    ?Remaining Finishers:


    P11 ¨C Desmond Lloyd ???????? (Velox Hispania)


    P12 ¨C James Lockwood ???????? (Nordvind Racing)


    P13 ¨C Denko Rutherford ???????? (Haddock Racing)


    P14 ¨C Javier Montez ???????? (Outback Performance)


    P15 ¨C Mikhail Petrov ???????? (Iberia Grand Prix)


    P16 ¨C Ansel Hahn ???????? (Trampos Racing)


    ? DNF (Did Not Finish):


    P17 ¨C Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­ ???????? (Alpine Swiss F1) ¨C Crash


    P18 ¨C Erik Haas ???????? (Trampos Racing) ¨C Crash


    P19 ¨C Alejandro Vasquez ???????? (Velox Hispania) ¨C Crash


    P20 ¨C Jimmy Damgaard ???????? (Bueseno Velocit¨¤) ¨C Crash


    -----


    Luca couldn''t wrap his head around Ansel actually pulling off P10 in the end! That meant 1 point for him and Trampos in the standings, a small but real win.


    If Ansel could keep scraping points like that over the next 15 races, it''d add up enough to hit a bonus target or something to build on at least.


    Just like Luca had crushed two Grands Prix back-to-back, his own bonuses had stacked high¡ªhigh enough to call him a millionaire without exaggeration.


    Luca wasn''t just tied to a handful of sponsors like he was last season. He''d cut loose from Fijee completely. Now, he''d signed with around 12 new ones during those hectic weeks when he joined Jackson Racing, including heavyweights like F1 Monoposto itself, all clamoring for his name.


    Still, the Hawthorne empire stayed his biggest deal. Mrs. Hawthorne made damn sure her family''s name was the first thing people said after "Luca Rennick," tying her brand to his every move and profile.


    Luca had lost track of all the deals he was linked to because Mallow handled the flood of contracts. He''d been told he only needed to play ambassador for the top-tier ones, and even those hadn''t called him in yet for anything big.


    He''d claimed the top spot in the standings, and that triggered one of his bonuses too. Luca couldn''t help but wonder how Rodnick, stuck at P4, was handling it now.


    Rodnick''s frustration on recent race results wasn''t difficult to notice, so during practice sessions, Luca planned to watch closely, sizing up how their teammate dynamic was holding up.


    After the Brazilian Grand Prix, the Drivers'' Standings shifted and was restructured, but still tight between the top ten leaders. Since top drivers like Luigi and DiMarco were yet to get a single race win, the championship was still wide open for anyone to seize.


    PROVISIONAL DRIVER''S CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP10)


    Position | Team | Points


    ----------------------------------------


    1. | Luca Rennick | 76 (+1)


    2. | Marcellus Rodnick | 67


    3. | Antonio Luigi | 56


    4. | Marko Ignatova | 50


    5. | Hank Rice | 47


    6. | Ailbeart Moireach | 45


    7. | Luis Dreyer | 43


    8. | Davide DiMarco | 36


    9. | Elias Nystr?m | 32


    10. | Jimmy Damgaard | 18


    To the Constructor''s Standings, Jackson still sat at the top as they rolled toward the 6th round, a full quarter of the season now done.


    Luca couldn''t help but think if Jackson could repeat what Trampos pulled off last year, when Trampos locked in 1st Place in the Constructor''s Standings from the opening race straight through to the final checkered flag in Monza.


    TThe points they''d piled up over Squadra were solid enough to make their lead feel safe for the next round. It''d take two bad races to shake things up¡ªlike if Luca and Rodnick both crashed out or failed to score substantially, something that''d hand Luigi and Marko a shot to close the gap.


    PROVISIONAL CONSTRUCTORS'' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (ALL 10)


    Position | Team | Points


    ------------------------------------


    1. | Jackson Racing | 148


    2. | Squadra Corse | 105


    3. | Haddock Racing | 58


    4. | Bueseno Velocit¨¤ | 54


    5. | Iberia Grand Prix | 53


    6. | Outback Perf. | 49


    7. | Nordvind Racing | 33


    8. | Velox Hispania | 6


    9. | Trampos Racing | 1


    10. | Alpine Swiss F1 | 0.


    Velocit¨¤ had finally cracked the top five, hitting 4th place by pushing past Outback and now sitting just one point ahead of Iberia GP.


    It felt like the standings split into three groups. Jackson and Squadra were battling alone at the top, a clear gap below them. Then came Haddock, Velocit¨¤, Iberia, Outback, and Nordvind, all scrapping for the middle spots.


    At the bottom, Velox, Trampos, and Alpine were stuck, barely scraping points. Not one had reached double digits, even after five rounds. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Luca couldn''t stop wondering how the table would look if Nevada was still racing. Would Jackson still hold that big lead? Would Iberia GP even be hanging on in the top five?


    The next race was the Australian Grand Prix, still in May¡ªthe very last race of the month.


    Bahrain Grand Prix


    Location: Melbourne, Australia


    Date: May. 30


    Time: 1 PM


    Track: George Park Circuit


    Track Length: 6 Km


    Total Laps: 45


    Track Type: Permanent road course


    Lap Record: Pierre Laurens 1:34.251


    Luca could still see last year''s Australian Grand Prix in Formula 2 clear as day. It was the second race of that season, a big deal back then. Now, it was slotted as the sixth race for F1 this year.


    What position had he finished in?


    P6, Luca recalled without a doubt.


    Thinking back, that P6 was still his worst result in his F1 career¡ªnot counting the races he didn''t finish at all due to crashes.


    That was a hell of a record, honestly! P6 as a driver''s lowest finish ever? Most would kill for that.


    In F1 this season, every race he''d completed ended with him in P1. China was a wreck, a crash orchestrated by DiMarco that took him out, and the U.S.? He didn''t even show up on the grid.


    He''d heard George Park got a facelift to match new FIA rules, adding more seats and better viewing spots to pack in bigger crowds at every circuit.


    Good thing was, they''d moved the grandstands farther back from the track itself. No more flags or random banners messing with drivers'' focus while they screamed by at insane speeds.


    Rodnick had won the F1 Australian Grand Prix win last year, Luca remembered. No question his teammate was planning to lift that trophy again, make it two in a row.


    Plans to hop halfway across the world started forming right after Brazil. Luca felt like he was stuck in a cycle¡ªrace, pack, fly, repeat¡ªliving the same grind, loop after loop.

 Chapter 347 - 347: Pre-S2 Australian Grand Prix. 2

    "This is outrageous! You''re sitting me out for Australia too?"


    "Upon everything I''ve contributed to this team''s wins¡ªdoes that mean nothing?"


    "I''ve been a Silver Stallion since I was ten, racing for this name! Loyalty used to matter to the Ferrari teams. Where''s that now?"


    "Six rounds in, and I''m still stuck in the paddock? That''s the plan? When I''ve tested every setup, burned laps for data. When and where''s my shot?"


    "You''re betting it all on him, but what about my years here? I''m not just some spare driver you can bury on the bench!"


    Those weren''t exactly Di Renzo''s words when he heard Luca and Rodnick would race in Australia, leaving him sidelined again. Luca just pictured that''s how they''d sound, since one engineer mentioned Di Renzo "didn''t take it quite well."


    Luca put himself in Di Renzo''s place, wondering how he''d react in that spot. He started thinking it through, step by step.


    What if he and Rodnick were set as the fixed in-race teammates, locked in, and then, out of nowhere, a new season kicks off and Jackson Racing brings in a new driver¡ªsome young guy like him, full of ambition and drive?


    Luca pushed the idea further. What if Jackson Racing decided to run this new kid for the next two races, benching Luca to sit in the paddock, sipping water bottles while they hit the track?


    And worse, what if this driver started racking up points, stealing the show? That''d mean more races watching from the sidelines, his own seat at risk.


    After chewing it over, Luca figured he''d be mad as hell too. It''d be a heavy blow to his smooth progress with the system, cutting deep into his points and screwing up his standings.


    Since Luca knew he couldn''t do much to lift Di Renzo''s spirits¡ªhe was literally the whole reason for the Di Renzo''s frustration¡ªhe decided to let sleeping dogs lie.


    Luca remembered last year''s Australian Grand Prix, wishing he''d brought a camera to catch the race weekend''s moments in clips. So, this time, he wasn''t taking chances with Australia''s dusky charm. He packed a digital camera¡ª4K, 75MP, 10x optical zoom¡ªto grab it all.


    A 12-hour flight on the Hawthorne 3 got them to Australia after a stop in Dubai for a refuel, rest, and grabbing food plus a quick stretch. The Hawthorne 3 wasn''t some massive jet, but it handled the long haul fine, so they pushed on after, touching down in Melbourne by evening.


    It was too dark to snap any photos that day, and Luca was beat from the trip, so he didn''t even bother trying.


    It was only the day after¡ªthankfully a free day¡ªthat the atmosphere turned bright and perfect for snapshots. The contrast couldn''t be starker from Brazil''s apocalyptic appearance just days ago. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Australia carried a more uplifting energy, a sense of liveliness that filled the air, reminding Luca of a certain memory¡ªwhen he, Ansel, and Harry¡ªHarry, his fellow driver back at the academy¡ªhad once spent a lighthearted afternoon together after the F2 Australian Grand Prix, which Ansel had won.


    As the day wore on, Luca gradually recalled how his friendship with Harry had simply dwindled over time. From sending each other silly photos and jokeful banter to only exchanging words when something important came up. Eventually, the last message had been from Luca''s end¡ª"Thanks, mate. Would love to see you lift it one day too!"¡ªafter Harry had congratulated him on his Mega Prix win.


    Maybe Harry had realized that Luca was slowly outgrowing his level and decided to pull away. And Luca, caught up in the storm of F1, Nevada''s controversies, and the haunting weight of his late father, had simply let the friendship slip without realizing.


    He couldn''t deny it¡ªthere was a bit of sadness in not having anyone he could truly call a solid friend. Adrian was there, A.K.A, his fencing teacher, but it was clear that friendships built through real, lived experiences always hit differently.


    At a zoo in Melbourne, only Vance and Manuela were by his side. They were occasionally jokeful and warm, which served well enough for Luca.


    There are only two days for personal rest before all F1 teams garrisoned to prepare for the race on Sunday.


    Jackson''s designated facility was a certain Fort Keswick at Southbank, Melbourne. When Luca arrived, it genuinely looked like a garrison to him¡ªbuzzing, structured, and full of soldiers in race gear rather than camo.


    He quickly blended into the hive of activity, slipping into the gym first to get pumped up and boost his boost his muscle responsiveness and core flexibility, especially with how intense Sunday''s forecasted track dynamics were expected to be. He couldn''t afford to be anything less than precise.


    The day''s and days'' drills in training were centered on mastering fluid overtakes across George Park''s notoriously spiraled layout¡ªa twisted stretch of asphalt that looked more like tangled spaghetti than a standard F1 track, winding relentlessly from Turn 1 to the final bend.


    Despite recent expansions and construction, the track''s dangerous waviness remained untouched. If anything, it had been amplified. A few of the newer turns had been meticulously engineered to bridge the mid-sector loop back toward the home straight, creating an extended stretch with deceptive traction shifts.


    These turns also introduced two distinct runoff zones carved into the outer edge, providing enough space for quick exits or aggressive dives, depending on how sharp a driver''s instincts were.


    Luca would''ve really appreciated those runoffs last year¡ªback when he had no Skills like Gripper to help him hold steady under extreme pressure. But now that they were here, it felt like a quiet assurance, a safety net to prevent spins or wipeouts at the track''s most brutal points. Not a crutch, but a second chance if you pushed too hard.


    He paid razor-sharp attention to every drill they were put through¡ªlines, throttle release, brake taps, lane switching, grip correction. Each pass, each motion, each mock-lap, he internalized. And whenever he glanced at Rodnick during those drills, he could tell: the guy was locked in. There was more weight in every nod, more intention behind every reply, and not a single wasted move out on track.


    The way Rodnick was handling the sessions¡ªclean, focused, nearly untouchable¡ªLuca started to wonder. Maybe it was time to start thinking of him not just as a title rival... but as the biggest driver on the grid this weekend.


    Thursday marked the F1 Qualifiers, just a day after F2 had wrapped up theirs. It was Round 6 now, and everything was ramping up. The moment to shape Sunday''s starting grid had finally arrived.


    Luca put on his headphones and linked them to his phone via Bluetooth. Scrolling down to the playlist Isabella had made him, he found the song that always lit something in him. With a small smile, he tapped play.


    Night Begins To Shine by B.E.R. flooded his ears.

 Chapter 348 - 348: S2 Australian Grand Prix

    On race day, George Park Circuit was packed to the brim. The Australian Grand Prix felt like one of those F1 races fans just had to show up for. So many from all over the world pulled out all the stops to be there, maybe missing F2 Saturday but never F1 Sunday''s main event.


    Australia''s spot way out on the map always made it tough, though because flights hit the wallet hard, and the slog of travel brought its own mess of stress and chaos to deal with.


    Even the day before, Saturday''s F2 Australian Grand Prix, Luca wasn''t sure he spotted a single empty seat. He''d gone to watch that race, sitting up in the suites, and from there, he could feel the massive scale of the crowd and the race tearing by below.


    It got Luca picturing himself split in two at once. One version of him was out there racing, racing around the track, while the other sat high in the suites, watching that first version streak past in a blur.


    Max Addams had grabbed his FIFTH Grand Prix title this season. How wild!


    He was totally owning Formula 2 right now, kneeling everyone and outpacing them all. It could''ve been his sixth win in a row, but Albert Derstappen had thrived better and pulled ahead in Brazil, stopping Max''s four-race win streak.


    Even so, Max landed P3 there, just trailing Aaronson in P2 by a tiny gap. Luca could only guess how many points Max had stacked up compared to whoever was in 2nd Place. Formula 2 Champion, no doubt.


    Luca hadn''t caught much news about Miles¡ªMiles Bellingham¡ªthese days. Still, he hoped Miles was giving it his all by now. They weren''t rivals anymore, so Luca only wished for their progress, not for them to crash and burn.


    Perhaps it was simply because he was in such a delighted mood that he had claimed pole for this race¡ªhis second Pole Position in his Formula 1 career.


    Thursday''s Qualifiers had been a smooth run for Luca. He topped the leaderboard for the fastest lap in every session¡ªQ1, Q2, and Q3. Though there were a few fluctuations in the milliseconds across his best laps in all three rounds, they were relatively consistent. In fact, his fastest lap in Q1 was so strong that Q2''s and Q3''s best times only beat it by mere fractions of a second.


    1. Luca Rennick¡ª 1:25.143


    Unfortunately for Rodnick, his solid plans for a P1 finish in Australia might''ve just taken a hit, considering he didn''t make pole. Even with one of the top three fastest cars on the grid, George Park''s layout posed quite a predicament, and Rodnick ended up securing an "outstanding" P8. Funny how Sam Hamilton chose to describe it that way.


    Meanwhile, DiMarco''s grid position was simply described as "not-ideal-at-this-stage," given he landed P9 when he had yet to wrack up the kind of points usually expected from Davide DiMarco. And with P9 sitting right behind P8¡ªRodnick¡ªwell, what a setup.


    Even Luca was surprised by his rival''s grid position, but he simply took it as just a not so great qualifiers. He knew his own could come one day due to certain circumstances.


    Still, no one could deny that Rodnick and DiMarco dropping down to P8 and P9 had opened up space and created chances for others ahead to clinch something big.


    P1¡ª Luca Rennick


    P2¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P3¡ª Javier Montez


    P4¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P5¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P6¡ª Denko Rutherford


    P7¡ª Mikhail Petrov


    P8¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P9¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P10¡ª Hank Rice


    P11¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    P12¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P13¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P14¡ª Jacob Jakobsen


    P15¡ª Desmond Lloyd


    P16¡ª Ansel Hahn


    P17¡ª Erik Haas


    P18¡ª James Lockwood


    P19¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    P20¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    "¡­And welcome to Melbourne, ladies and gentlemen, for the Australian Grand Prix at the George Park Circuit! The stands are absolutely heaving, over 100,000 fans packed in, flags waving, horns blaring¡ªit''s F1 Sunday, and the air''s buzzing as the drivers make their way to their grid spots for the sixth round of this thrilling season...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...beyond the prestigious top three, P4 sees Ailbeart Moireach for Haddock Racing, a dark horse who''s been climbing quietly. And P5, Luis Dreyer of Outback Performance. These two could shake things up if the front-runners slip...!"


    "...the Apex Predator, Marcellus Rodnick, Jackson Racing''s defending Aussie champ, who won here last year but struggled in qualifiers sits at P8. An uncomfortable position given Davide DiMarco right behind. That''s a spicy battle waiting to unfold. P10 rounds out the top ten with Hank Rice, who''s been consistent but needs a breakout here...!"


    "...P16, Ansel Hahn, still fighting for Trampos, but the real story starts lower. P17, Erik Haas, then P18, James Lockwood, and P19, Alejandro Vasquez¡ªboth Lockwood and Vasquez crashed out in Q2, wrecking their chances and dumping them down here. P20, Elias Nystr?m, also took a hit with a nasty shunt in Q3. Those crashes were a disaster, especially for Nordvind Racing, who field both Lockwood and Nystr?m. Having their drivers at P18 and P20 is a massive blow¡ªthey''re out of points contention before the lights even go out....!"


    "..The cars are settling, the crowd''s roaring¡ªlights out is just moments away at the Australian Grand Prix...!"


    This was Luigi''s first time sitting at the second box, right beside Luca''s lead at pole¡ªor perhaps, his first time being this close to Luca at all on the grid.


    He had never personally fallen victim to Luca''s Grid Launch before, but he''d seen enough to know how lethal it could be. Through race reviews and actual Grand Prix replays, Luigi had watched Luca''s explosive launches off the line¡ªsmooth, snappy, and always quickly perfect.


    Luigi remembered when he himself had once started on pole, eyes locked on his side mirrors beneath the golden glow of Stellar, just seconds before the red lights vanished. And when they did, he watched Luca''s Ferrari pounce past Luis Dreyer and snatch P10 in the blink of an eye.


    Now, as the marshals scrambled off the track and the first red light lit up above the grid in this Australian Grand Prix, Luigi knew he had to make a move. He had to remedy what was about to be another blistering start by Luca.


    He subtly shifted his Mercedes just beyond the limits of his grid box. It was almost unnoticeable to the naked eye¡ªbut intentional. This was a sly way to try and catch up before Luca could disappear by the first straight.


    But Luca, with that Spatial Awareness of his, noticed it immediately.


    He sharply reported by radioing it and adding his own humour. "Uhh yeah¡­ermm, I think Antonio''s car is already halfway to Turn 1."


    Jackson Racing didn''t waste a second. They sent it straight to Race Control, and within moments, cameras zoomed in on Luigi''s Mercedes, broadcasting that its front wing was sitting clearly a foot over the grid box line.


    "...Car 2 Antonio Luigi, 4-second time penalty for exceeding grid box limits at the start. Penalty to be served during pit stop or added to race time.."


    "WOOOOHH!"


    "...Oh wow! It seems Luigi tried to get a little cheeky there¡­ slightly over the line¡ªand it''s been spotted! That Mercedes is a touch too far forward, and race control''s slapped him with a 4-second penalty already¡ªwhat a way to kick off...!"


    But Luigi didn''t care anymore. He''d already started with his illegal head-start, and for better or worse, it worked. He had managed to nullify Luca''s usual Grid Launch gap, keeping himself tightly in the fight through the first turn.


    This put Luca in a precarious position, locked in a duel with the second-best driver in the competition. He knew his driving skills were superior¡ªno question¡ªbut Luigi''s Mercedes was a beast, and that wasn''t even counting the golden FiammaVeloce thrumming beneath it, constantly helping Luigi erase any gap Luca managed to build.


    Luca had to rely on Corner Chopping whenever he could, especially since the straights at George Park were far too short for him to confidently attempt a full-on Straightaway Chopping.


    By the fifth lap, the two had already exchanged positions seven times. The leaderboard flickered like a heartbeat, unsure who was leading at any given moment. Even the commentators struggled to keep up.


    It was Luca''s longest, hardest duel yet. The crisscrossing layout of George Park only made it worse, with its sharp turns and narrow paths making it tough to hold a defense or pull off a clean overtake.


    But that was what Luca wanted, right? He had always wanted a dogfight with Antonio Luigi¡ªthe seasoned F1 driver of Squadra Corse, the same man involved in the chain of events that had led Luca to where he stood now.


    Still, he wondered if he was truly ready. While he had the system''s overall track layout generation to always keep him aware of what was coming next and even further beyond, Luigi seemed attuned to George Park in a way that felt almost spiritual. It was as if he knew the track at the back of his head.


    Why wouldn''t he? He had been racing professionally on the highest stage for about five years now, and the Australian Grand Prix had never missed the calendar.


    Luca could sense that kind of ingrained memory was stronger. Luigi had this bold confidence, refusing to yield, hitting turns with perfection and steering clear of long side-by-side battles with Luca.


    In the end, Luca lost a grueling six-lap duel when he and Luigi reached the third straight heading into the third sector.


    He had already dialed in Side-by-Side King to dominate the stretch, but deep down, he feared the raw capability of Luigi''s engine, especially the explosive power it wielded, which was monumentally greater compared to his.


    Just as he feared, Luigi surged significantly ahead, and before Luca could even think about utilizing slipstream, the short straight was already gone, giving way to the next clustered set of turns.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [2nd Position]


    "...They''re barreling down now, and¡ªoh, there it goes! Luigi hits the throttle, that Mercedes roars, and he surges ahead! Luca can''t match that raw speed!"


    "...Antonio Luigi is clear by a car length¡ªno, two! The straight''s too short for Luca to slipstream back, and they''re already into the third sector''s twists! The gap''s holding¡ªLuigi''s taken the lead, and the Melbourne crowd is going wild! Listen to that roar...!"


    1¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ü


    2¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ý


    "He''s gone¡ªhow''s my gap?"


    **You''re 1.2 seconds back, Luca. Stay smooth, we''ll fight him in the corners**


    [3rd Position closing in]


    **Ailbeart''s in P3, 2 seconds behind**


    Javier Montez couldn''t hold off Ailbeart''s push, especially with Ailbeart driving that Renault Rotterbad engine, packing serious, notorious power.


    Luca huffed a mutter under his breath. He couldn''t help but wonder why Ailbeart hadn''t pressed forward to challenge Luigi earlier. It was only after Luigi had overtaken him that Ailbeart suddenly decided to show up. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    From the race start through that tough duel, Luca had picked up a few points.


    [Downforce +1]


    [Braking Efficiency +1]


    With Grid Launch and Corner Chopping essentially maxed now, earning EXP for them had become more difficult than before. So, even though Luca executed both skills during the run, he received no further notifications from them.


    Only Yaw Flex showed any improvement. And understandably so because driving through the spiralling complexity of George Park, the various air forces constantly manipulated the car''s balance distribution and turn pressure.


    Even though Melbourne''s air currents were tame compared to S?o Paulo''s, Yaw Flex still managed to earn one point over the course of six laps¡ªand so did half a bar in the Sync Bar.


    [Yaw Flex +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]


    [Ding!]


    [Level-up notice:


    [HANDLING & DYNAMICS has moved from 100% to 105%


    AERODYNAMICS & CHASSIS has moved from 98% to 101% ]


    "We are moving up!"

 Chapter 349 - 349: S2 Australian Grand Prix. 2

    By the 10th Lap, Luca was back in P1. He''d snatched it from Antonio Luigi with a stunning move, committing to the inner lane at Turn 8. Luca had steadily closed the gap, and soon Luigi was stuck playing defense.


    Luigi''s defense was tough, but George Park''s mix of wide outer corners and tight inside lanes made holding position a real challenge.


    Weaving from Turn 6, a sweeping outer bend, into Turn 7''s sharper kink, Luca saw his chance. He dove inside with Gripper Skill kicking in, locking his Ferrari''s tires to the apex like glue, keeping his stance firm while he powered through the tight line, edging past Luigi''s Mercedes just before swinging into Turn 8''s inner lane for the final pass.


    Gripper made a huge difference, even with its incomplete value. Without it, Luca would''ve thought twice, maybe even taken a runoff to avoid disaster because it was that bold of an overtake. Back in his early days in a single-seater, he would''ve almost certainly spun out trying that move.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOH!"


    [1st Position]


    **Brilliant move, Luca! Luigi''s 0.8 back¡ªkeep pushing, watch Ailbeart in P3**


    1¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    2¡ª Antonio Luigi ¡ý


    [Gripper +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 25%]


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [2nd Position is 0.8 sec away, host.]


    Since Ailbeart Moireach was close enough in P3, Luca felt sure Luigi would hesitate before diving for P1 again. For now, Luca was ready to pull further ahead.


    The leaderboard kept shifting fast in this Australian Grand Prix. The drivers were bunched up tight, and anyone could get back a lost position with the right push and a track section with a layout that played to their car''s strengths.


    Rodnick and DiMarco had climbed to P6 and P7 at one point, with DiMarco snatching P7, only for Rodnick to take it back the next lap. They traded like that twice until Rodnick hit a groove, found rhythm on the 7th Lap. He started gapping DiMarco by 1.2 seconds, but that wasn''t enough to shake the Italian.


    DiMarco kept flashing danger signs, pressing hard. Rodnick refused to surrender P6¡ªit was just one spot from P5¡ªso he fired back with his own show of force, braced to block DRS moves or heavy slipstream plays whenever they came.


    But Rodnick and DiMarco slipped up big time, focusing too much on their own fight and missing the bigger race picture. The crowd erupted when Hank Rice and Denko Rutherford zipped past them in a flash, capitalizing as Rodnick pinned DiMarco to the inside of a sharp turn.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    6¡ª Hank Rice ¡ü


    7¡ª Denko Rutherford ¡ü


    8¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ý


    9¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ý


    DiMarco had spotted Rice and Denko coming, but he was stuck, unable to react in time. So he vented at Rodnick, blaming him for boxing them in and causing the mess.


    Rodnick couldn''t hear DiMarco''s rant, but he could sense his rival''s anger. He was already grumbling to Jackson''s mechanics himself, though deep down, he felt a grim satisfaction knowing DiMarco¡ªa fierce rival¡ªwas still stuck behind him.


    This is how sportsmen thrive.


    But it didn''t take long before DiMarco overtook Rodnick, slipping past in a bold move.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    8¡ª Davide DiMarco ¡ü


    9¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ý


    Contributing to the leaderboard''s wild swings just 10 laps in, only 19 drivers were left on the track, down from 20. Even so, no yellow flags or safety car ever came out, but one driver had DNFed.


    It was none other than Ansel Hahn.


    Sadly, Ansel''s Dallara hit a mechanical failure. His car just lost all power right in the middle of the race!


    Ansel panicked for a split second, but F1 drivers are trained for such situations, so he calmly guided the powerless Dallara off the track. The tires bumped over the curbs, then rolled over the grass for a few seconds before the Dallara came to a complete stop.


    "...Oh no, trouble for Ansel Hahn! That Dallara has lost power¡ª"


    "....First power loss of the season! He''s coasting off at Turn 12! That''s a DNF for Hahn, and what a blow for the German team. He''s out, safely off the track, but that''s the end of his Australian Grand Prix..."


    Ansel didn''t even have the energy to curse, hit his wheel, or rant. This was the Constructor''s Championship, where every team''s tech was on trial. For the car to break down like that meant Trampos, a small outfit, must''ve had some serious slip-ups, especially with a Dallara chassis.


    **Hard luck, Ansel. You handled it well**


    **Come back, we''ll figure out what went wrong**


    DNF situations like this, there was no necessary need for a safety flag session. If the driver can coast the car safely off the racing line and into a designated runoff or marshal-accessible area, the race continues uninterrupted.


    Race control only intervenes when the stopped vehicle poses a hazard to others¡ªotherwise, it''s game on. Ansel did exactly what was expected. He cleared the track without endangering the flow of the Grand Prix. Now, the marshals could easily get the cat out when all drivers are beyond that sector.


    XXX¡ª Ansel Hahn


    Surprisingly, the first DNF of the afternoon was a mechanical failure, not a spinout or crash. Considering George Park''s tight, twisty layout, it was very likely that many drivers would lose control in the race''s heat.


    The same way George Park''s sharp corners and short straights prophesied crashes, that was how it demanded strong tire grip and solid traction through the turns to avoid those wrecks.


    Subsequently, constant gripping and clawing at the asphalt caused tires to wear down fast. Even drivers on hard compounds could see early signs of tire wear, leading to slight losses of control.


    George Park was a long, weaving track, and its relentless turns hit every compound type hard. Soon, pitstops were on everyone''s mind.


    Just at Lap 12, drivers and teams were already talking about making their first pitstop!


    Luca, on the other hand, was holding up just fine for now.


    [Tire Wear Management +1]


    Ever since he firmly retook P1 from Luigi, he hadn''t pushed his tires as hard as other drivers stuck in the midfield pack, where the tight racing was brutal on rubber.


    So, with that and Tire Wear Management''s extra boost, Luca was in a good spot to stay out longer on the track while the first wave of pitters ducked in and out of the pitlane.


    By the 15th Lap, garages were buzzing with activity, and many pitstops were underway, including Rodnick''s.


    P1¡ª Luca Rennick


    P2¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P3¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P4¡ª Luis Dreyer ¡ú


    P5¡ª Javier Montez


    P6¡ª Hank Rice ¡ú


    P7¡ª Denko Rutherford ¡ú


    P8¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P9¡ª Marcellus Rodnick ¡ú


    P10¡ª Marko Ignatova ¡ú


    P11¡ª Mikhail Petrov


    P12¡ª Jimmy Damgaard ¡ú


    P13¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    P14¡ª Jacob Jakobsen ¡ú


    P15¡ª Desmond Lloyd


    P16¡ª Elias Nystr?m ¡ú


    P17¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    P18¡ª James Lockwood


    P19¡ª Erik Haas ¡ú


    XXX¡ª Ansel Hahn


    Luca didn''t hit the pits until the 17th Lap. Even then, he was still in good shape and could''ve stretched it to the 25th Lap, as his system predicted his tires would hold.


    But Jackson Racing wasn''t buying it. They listened to his reasoning, but firmly insisted he pit on the 17th Lap to swap for fresh hard tires.


    Jackson foresaw the race getting even fiercer in the middle laps. By then, Luca''s tires would be worn, leaving him vulnerable to being overtaken. To avoid a risky pitstop at a critical moment, Jackson Racing prepped for Luca''s pit two laps after Rodnick''s.


    By then, Rodnick had found the right tire warmth to race with confidence.


    "...Luca Rennick, our race leader in P1, is peeling into the pits on Lap 17! The Jackson Racing star, who''s been untouchable for many laps in this race now dives down the pitlane..!"


    "...can he get back out in P1? With Antonio Luigi and Ailbeart Moireach breathing down his neck, holding that lead looks tough..."


    [Analyzing 2nd Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [2nd Position is 2.5 sec away, host.]


    "Not far enough."


    [System Update: Pitlane Entry Detected]


    [Speed Limit: 80 km/h]


    [System''s prediction: 12 sec¡ª15 sec]


    **Team is ready**


    The pitstop was lightning-fast. Every Jackson Racing crew member shouted for Luca to hustle out of the pitlane. By then, Ailbeart Moireach had already surged into P1.


    Luigi had pitted on Lap 16, so Ailbeart Moireach was the one trailing Luca when that delta analysis was calculated. Fortunately for Luigi, Dreyer was still shaking off his pitstop lag, so Luigi clung to P2 for the moment.


    It was a question of whether he could keep it, as Luca was already roaring out of the pitlane.


    He did! Luigi managed to run past Luca, holding his line to secure P2 just as Luca rejoined the track.


    "WOOOOHH!"


    **Fast stop. Fast stop. Don''t worry**


    **You''re 0.9 behind Antonio, Luca. Might increase. Push hard¡ªkeep tabs on Dreyer, he''s closing fast**


    [3rd Position]


    [4th Position closing in]


    Luca found himself almost nose-to-tail with Dreyer''s Red Bull.


    [Analyzing 4th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...] S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [4th Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    "Damn. He''s so close for an inevitable overtake. I have to watch for DRS. I have to prevent a straight upon us."


    The first straight was still a ways off, with five turns leading up to it. So, Luca hoped he could pull off some sharp Corner Choppings to build a gap before then.


    Dreyer aggressively shadowed him into the second wide-handed corner. Turn 3 was a tight hairpin, favoring whoever hit it first. The leader there would pull ahead by at least 0.5 seconds.


    Luca kept his senses for Side-by-Side King on high alert. The second Dreyer tried to line up next to him, he''d trap him like a fly in a web.


    To pull it off, Luca baited Dreyer toward the outside lane and hugged the inner line tight. Dreyer, driven by his hunger to grab the position, committed hard. But he didn''t have Luca''s knack for snapping a car to the apex with Gripper Skill''s precision.


    Dreyer''s front wing clipped Luca''s rear tire.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    Dreyer wobbled wildly, and Luca bounced like a ball caught in a gust.


    "...Oh, contact at Turn 3! Luca Rennick and Luis Dreyer tangle in the first sector! It''s a tight hairpin, and that''s a nudge¡ªDreyer''s front wing tags Luca''s tire! Both cars are still running, but they''ve lost ground. Stewards will be eyeing this...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "Shit!" Luca hissed. He was totally stripped of his momentum. When he glanced at his mirrors, Dreyer looked worse, completely in disarray, fighting to regain control.


    At this point, Javier Montez could seize the chance to slip past them both.


    **Dreyer was tight¡ªslight bump, but we''re good!**


    Luca wanted to respond to his team engineers, but it seemed they had something else to say. His heart sank.


    **Race control is reviewing possible double penalty. Stay focused.**

 Chapter 350 - 350: S2 Australian Grand Prix. 3

    [System''s prediction: 12 sec¡ª15 sec]


    [Host''s pitlane Entry and Exit: 11.5 sec]


    [You''ve received (1) Handling EXP]


    [Handling +1]


    This was the system''s quick recap of Luca''s pitstop analysis, calculated right before the messy incident with Luis Dreyer.


    [Retrieving pitstop info...]


    [Service Time: 1.92 seconds]


    [Front Tires: Hard ¡ú Hard] S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [Rear Tires: Hard ¡ú Hard]


    Meanwhile, Luca was still trying to digest what he''d just heard. He couldn''t wrap his head around race control mentioning his name in their announcement.


    Race control had finished their review of the avoidable contact between Luca and Luis Dreyer on Lap 17. They relayed the announcement as fast as possible by the next lap¡ªLap 18.


    The double penalty theory held firm and was confirmed. Luca and Dreyer were both handed strong 5-second penalties for aggressive driving.


    "..Luca Rennick and Luis Dreyer, 5-second time penalties each for causing a collision at Turn 3, Lap 17. Penalties to be served during pitstop or added to race time..."


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    **Luca, race control''s given you a 5-second penalty for the Turn 3 contact with Dreyer. Same for him**


    "Penalty?!"


    **Yes. We''d have to serve it next stop**


    Luca tried to hide his disbelief, which knew no limits. He still wanted an explanation for how he was named in the penalty when it was Dreyer who clipped his tires.


    Even if he was somehow at fault, Luca questioned why they both got the same 5-second time penalty.


    "But he was all over me."


    **Understood, Luca, it''s done. Focus on race. Focus on race **


    The only way Luca could see his fault was through race reviews after the Grand Prix. But for now, his system let him replay past race moments vividly in his mind, like a mental highlight reel.


    This was a huge help, especially for recalling specific details in a sector¡ªlike a small puddle of water, a hydroplane risk, higher curbs, or a patch of worn asphalt¡ªand adjusting his line accordingly.


    The only drawback was that this ability lacked a third-person POV of the track. Luca could only replay from his own first-person view, leaving him uncertain since a third-person angle would show both cars'' positions clearly, front and back.


    Even though he felt he wasn''t guilty, the damage was done, and the penalties were handed out. Luca knew penalties were rarely overturned in F1.


    Montez had blasted past him and Dreyer in the final sector before Lap 18. It was a huge moment for Montez, with Outback fans¡ªthe home crowd¡ªroaring wildly for him. It felt like a win for Outback Racing. Though one driver took a penalty, the other had seized the moment and climbed to P3.


    3¡ª Javier Montez ¡ü


    4¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ý


    5¡ª Luis Dreyer ¡ý


    Dreyer didn''t hold P5 for long, though. Hank Rice came through with a strong run, smoothly overtaking him and pushing him further back. This left Luca face-to-face with Rice, as Montez was steadily pulling away with his newfound momentum.


    4¡ª Luca Rennick


    5¡ª Hank Rice ¡ü


    6¡ª Luis Dreyer ¡ý


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [5th Position is 1 sec away, host.]


    Hank Rice had long since had the capability of consequently outpacing Luca even with a less powerful chassis in those moments Luca was yet to build 300 km/h momentum.


    Contributing to that, Rice himself was on fire and everyone knew he was a very skilled driver. He closed expertly on Luca, forcing our young driver to switch to attuned mode because with such a duel, George Park demanded no room for error.


    Rice trailed Luca through the second sector, his tires warm and his nerve steely. At Turn 12, a fast, sweeping right-hander, Rice saw his moment. Luca hugged the inside, but Rice, riding a wave of momentum, swung wide and powered through with a cleaner exit.


    Luca was stunned! The inner-line was the best.


    [5th Position]


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!" The Melbourne crowd erupted as Rice surged past, stealing P4.


    4¡ª Hank Rice ¡ü


    5¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ý


    "...Rennick drops to P5, and that''s another shake-up in this chaotic leaderboard! Hank Rice, started at P10 finds himself in P4...!"


    **Keep your pace, focus on the corners to close that gap**


    **Montez is 2 seconds up¡ªstay sharp, you''re still in the fight**


    Luca was indeed still in the fight, because by the 22nd Lap, he retook P4 from Hank Rice. The overtake was eerily similar to how Rice had passed him earlier.


    Rice had clung to the inside line at Turn 12, while Luca banked out as a blur to the outside, cleverly anticipating he''d flow to the outer edge of the next turn due to George Park''s crisscrossing layout.


    A quick surge of anger flashed through Rice, but he steadied himself fast. If only he weren''t driving an Audi, he might''ve held on.


    [4th Position]


    "...Rennick''s back in P4, chasing Montez, and Rice is left to regroup in P5..!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    4¡ª Luca Rennick ¡ü


    5¡ª Hank Rice ¡ý


    **Great move, Luca, you''ve got P4, 2.3 behind Montez**


    **Push those tires, get close to put pressure on him**


    [Analyzing 5th Position''s distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]


    [5th Position is 0.8 sec away, host.]


    Around then, Luca was hit with a flood of incoming notifications for points racked up so far.


    [Longevity +3]


    [Downforce +1]


    [Braking Efficiency +1]


    [Handling +1]


    [Straightaway Chopping +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 37.5%]


    [Gripper +1]


    [SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]


    The Straightaway Chopping Skill point came during Luca''s defense against Hank Rice on the third straight. The short straight kept him from pulling away and building a big gap, but he executed the skill sharp enough to earn the point.


    [25th Lap]


    By the 25th Lap, Luca had slashed the 2.5-second gap to Javier Montez. He was now close enough to be a real threat again, and Montez''s team urged him to focus on defending rather than stretching his lead.


    If Montez kept trying to pull away, Luca would stick with him, just as he''d been doing, thanks to his superior JRX-92B chassis. Montez drove a Red Bull¡ªOutback''s¡ªbut its base stats couldn''t match the 92B, let alone how Luca had improved it.


    If Montez kept pushing forward, Luca would eventually zip past him, maybe even unchallenged.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 3rd Position]


    [You are 1 seconds away, host.]


    The race had hit its middle laps. Despite Luca''s closeness to Montez, the rest of the pack was gradually spreading out, with an average delta of 2.2 seconds between cars.


    Montez himself hadn''t posed much trouble for Ailbeart in P2, so Ailbeart and Luigi kept pushing each other to the limit and bringing the best out of themselves, pulling further ahead of the field. When Luca checked the leaderboard, Ailbeart Moireach held a 4.5-second lead over Montez.


    That gap was impressive, but it didn''t faze Luca. With roughly 20 laps to go, he knew he had time. Once he passed Montez, he''d chip away at that lead. It might take a string of laps to close in, but Luca was certain he''d end up within a second of Ailbeart at the end of everything, ready to strike for P2.


    The next hurdle to P1 would be Luigi. Luigi was riding high, having served his 5-second penalty during his first pitstop. Luca, though, still had his penalty looming, a bitter pill since the Turn 3 incident happened right after he''d left the damn pitlane.


    So, his next pitstop would force him to sit an extra 5 seconds in that box, bleeding precious time.


    "Darn."


    Still checking the leaderboard, Luca assessed his teammate''s progress.


    P1¡ª Antonio Luigi


    P2¡ª Ailbeart Moireach


    P3¡ª Javier Montez


    P4¡ª Luca Rennick


    P5¡ª Hank Rice


    P6¡ª Luis Dreyer


    P7¡ª Davide DiMarco


    P8¡ª Denko Rutherford


    P9¡ª Marcellus Rodnick


    P10¡ª Marko Ignatova


    P11¡ª Mikhail Petrov


    P12¡ª Jimmy Damgaard


    P13¡ª Elias Nystr?m


    P14¡ª Yokouchi Y¨±ichir¨­


    P15¡ª Jacob Jakobsen


    P16¡ª Desmond Lloyd


    P17¡ª James Lockwood


    P18¡ª Alejandro Vasquez


    P19¡ª Erik Haas


    XXX¡ª Ansel Hahn


    Rodnick was still stuck in P9. By now, Luca had likely hoped his teammate would be charging toward the top five. But the midpack was a brutal tangle, even for a driver like Rodnick. DiMarco had somehow clawed his way to P7, gaining ground. The scorching heat and George Park''s weaving layout made a tough mix, affecting tires and patience alike.


    Luca wished he could hear Rodnick''s radio. He couldn''t, but it was buzzing with frustration in the thick of P9:


    **Marcellus, Marko''s 0.7 behind¡ªwatch your exit at Turn 9, he''s strong there**


    **The fucking track changes are crazy. It used to be wider**


    **Stay focused, we''re still in points¡ªlet''s close on Denko, he''s losing momentum**


    By Lap 30, Luca had strongly taken P3 from Montez. He was back in the podium spots


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    [3rd Position]


    "...Rennick powers through after a long chase, clean as a whistle, and takes P3! Rennick''s back in the podium spots, and the Melbourne crowd''s going ballistic...!"


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOH!"


    **Good job. Good job. Clean overtake**


    Sitting in P3, Luca saw a prime opportunity to pull off his plan. He''d been dreading the possible fallout from his 5-second penalty and how it could derail and throw off his race.


    But Luca figured that if he could seize P1, he''d greatly soften its blow.


    Tire health showed signs of dwindling, but it was still solid. Luca wagered that other drivers'' tires were likely more worn on average, giving him a clear upper hand now.


    [Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host''s distance from 2nd Position]


    [You are 4 seconds away, host.]


    Sync Buff was halfway charged. Luca was set to push harder, but yellow flags suddenly flared in the side field of his vision, catching him off guard.


    "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"


    "...it''s a wreck at sector 1...!"


    **Luca, yellow flags in Sector 1¡ªDenko''s crashed, he''s out of the race. Looks like Rodnick''s involved, could face trouble**