My Formula 1 System

Luca always attempted the Daily Quest administered to him by the system concerning covering 1200m of tarmac in less than 8 seconds.

That was just asking Luca to move at 540—550 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: → 0.8s → 0.6s]

[Speed Increase: +8 km/h due to slipstream]

"...On the longest straight in Shanghai, Elias Nyström challenges Luca Rennick! The slipstream use! The extra speed! Luca Rennick is set to hand back P4...!"

"Time to retaliate, brat!" Nyström hissed like a snake as his car got so close, almost touching Luca's.

They were nearly through the long straight, and Nyström predicted he would take on Turn 14's hairpin first. If he did, the remaining two turns—15 and 16—would be his ahead of Luca, subtly increasing their gap. The home straight would then solidify his lead in the 11th lap.

900m/1200m, Nyström deemed it the right moment to overtake Luca, with Nordvind Racing's engineers loudly encouraging him.

"...Nyström commits! Nordvind's driver swings out, positioning for the upcoming inside line! Rennick's got a problem—Nyström's got the speed and might hit DRS—DOES RENNICK COVER IT OFF...?!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

Before Nyström 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...!"

Nyström's reflexes screamed at him. "What the fu—!"

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° 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 NYSTRÖM'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—minor damage! Keep it steady—small countersteer!**

**Nyström, you clipped him! Front wing check—stability at 93%. Focus up! Turn 14 coming—stay composed and overtake now, no yellow flags yet**

Nyström 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," Nyström 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—CAN 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 Nyström 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—HE'S STILL FIGHTING FOR POSITION...!"

Nyström was frozen in disbelief. His hands trembled slightly on the wheel as he gunned for Turn 14, watching in utter shock as Luca—the guy who should've been out of control—not 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 Nyström 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—Nyström'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.

Nyström'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 Nyström has LOST IT—HE'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!" Nyström 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 Nyström that afternoon. At the moment of his crash, race control was busy relaying his 5-second penalty for clipping Luca to his team engineers.