My Formula 1 System

[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–just 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

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Miles had clearly honed his craft with the meticulously trained Squadra Corse Jnr team. He was executing a technique that Luca recognized immediately—a 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—slipping 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–Grip 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.

"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—just 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.]