My Formula 1 System

"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—or 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—starting 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—let'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—his 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—Bellingham's only real option might be to force Squadra Corse Jnr into a top 3 position, whatever it takes—even 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:

-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–years of high school made their figures unmistakable.

Yet again, they would face head-to-head, on Australian soil this time.

[27th Lap]

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