My Formula 1 System

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—whether 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—Solaris.

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—not 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]

[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—his 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—not 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.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

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—their 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—keep 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.