My Formula 1 System

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—Mr. 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—an 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—cars 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—a 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—apparently 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—take 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—the 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—all 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—identifying 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%.]

[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—perfect 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—the 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–the 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—an 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 Velocità 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—Pitstop Prodigy.

Clank, wrench, thud, pat–zoom!

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 ]

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