My Formula 1 System

Luca heard that runoff tracks often help better tire temperature. Maybe it was because of the difference in the texture of the tarmac. It was darker, more abrasive, designed to promote higher friction.

That extra resistance could generate the heat his cold tires desperately needed. If he could use this brief moment to build temperature without losing too much time, he might just turn this gamble into an advantage. "Huh!"

As Luca sped down the runoff area, aiming to rejoin the race before too many cars surged past, the grandstands erupted with movement.

A crowd of Velocità Jnr supporters—loyal fans of the entire Bueseno Velocità team in general—sprang to their feet, pressing against the barricades that separated them from the runoff track.

As Luca's Trampos Dallara streaked past at a speed that was moderate by racing standards but still intimidating up close, the reaction from the fans was immediate and hostile. Jeers and insults filled the air, fingers jabbed in his direction, and middle fingers shot up in unison.

Luca blinked, caught off guard.

He had always been told by Mr. Fisher, Mr. Grant, and Mallow to never take fan reactions too seriously, but this was something else entirely.

The sheer intensity of it, the way even those seated farther away stood up, waiting for the exact moment he would pass them just to scream at him... it was astonishing.

Even with the loud noise of his SomberCore and the padding of his helmet, Luca could make out the faintest echoes of their fury.

He forced himself to ignore them, shifting his focus to his right, where the distinct screech of two approaching engines cut through the noise.

"...James Legrasse in P6!"

"WOOOOHH!"

"...Peter De Klerk in P7!"

Just as De Klerk swung out of the curvature, the glowing holographic #7 hovering over his orange Dallara, Luca slotted back onto the track.

To his surprise, he rejoined right as Haas came flying past, and in an instant, the two cars merged into a tight share, side by side through the remainder of Turn 3.

[9th Position]

"Bad drop!"@@novelbin@@

Haas was slightly ahead of Luca as they raced side-by-side exiting turn 3 toward a rangy Turn 4 that led to the second straight of the track.

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"... Rennick is back on track but it was a costly detour, taking him to almost P10. Now, he's clutched with his teammate, Erik Haas...."

According to the Tiered Pursuit strategy, which Trampos had adopted since July, Haas was expected to deliberately give Luca the better racing line for a clean overtake.

Haas understood this, and without even communicating on the radio, he began moving his car to the outer lane for Luca to take the inner lane at Turn 4.

Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton smiled with delight, seeing their drivers expertly make the necessary adjustments for a smooth handover of position. This was exactly how it was meant to be.

[Analyzing 10th Position's distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]

[10th Position is 1 sec away, host.]

The moment Luca saw Miles' black and golden Dallara in his side mirror, a shot of nostalgia surged through him as if this exact moment had played out in a dream before.

He had completely forgotten that Miles was still in the pits when he left, so it made sense that he'd be catching up anytime soon.

**Bellingham is approaching fast. Take P8 before the straight**

**Erik is yet to box today. You have better Operational Status, Luca. Take P8 before the straight**

"...We see a strange formation between Luca Rennick and Erik Haas, drivers of our table leaders! Are they defending against Miles Bellingham, or is Erik Haas giving Luca the position...?!"

"WOOOOHH!"

Miles gripped his wheel tighter, his focus sharpening as two Trampos Dallaras loomed before him, their red lights flashing with every curving point of Turn 4.

Miles had cold tires, not yet hot enough for tough duels, but he was going to go for it. After all, he was unchallenged through Turn 3 that's why he didn't take the runoff track. And if he could just slip in through the space created by these two red drivers...

Even without taking note of their car numbers, Miles knew exactly how Luca drove and he identified Luca as the driver edging to the inner lane, and Haas, his teammate, as the one who had a drop of momentum as if he was tapping on his brake more than necessary for just a simple sweeping turn.

**Get in there, Miles!**

Vrmmmmm!

Miles' cold tires spun like a motor fan and his car lunged straight ahead, nosing in between Luca and Haas.

"WOOOOHH!"

The crowd erupted as Miles committed to the dive, his black and golden Dallara slicing between Luca and Haas like a bullet threading a needle.

"...Miles Bellingham goes for the gap! Look at that—right between the two Trampos cars...!"

[8th Position]

Luca had successfully taken P8 from Haas, but they were all on the same lane by the naked eye. It was a three-wide show down right at the apex of Turn 4.

Luca, spotting Miles' nose gradually creeping up beside him, instantly reacted. His grip tightened, instincts flaring.

Haas, on the other hand, had already been easing off, but now he hesitated. Was he supposed to close the gap or leave it open?

The split-second hesitation was all Miles had needed. His car, despite the lack of grip, found just enough traction to wedge itself into the narrowing space.

"WOOOOHH!"

The delight on Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton's faces instantly turned into a frown.

Three drivers battling for space was never a good thing. Haas was supposed to use the space Miles had intercepted to tuck in behind Luca without losing ground. Now, if he had to tuck in, he'd have to brake hard, letting them move ahead before sliding behind.

That wasn't an option. The Tiered Pursuit strategy was meant to give the teammate the upper hand—not a rival!

**That was reckless! He's just throwing himself in and hoping for the best!** Haas complained.

**Stay focused. Bellingham is committed now. Prepare to fight back on the straight** Mr. Ruben chimed in.

Luca wanted to suggest that he and Haas box Miles in, but he wondered what other trick his old high school classmate had up his sleeve.

Besides, boxing in a rival at turns was never advisable because he might just use the track structure to wedge his way out. A straightaway was ideal for that.

[500m Straightaway ahead]

Luca remembered his Daily Quest.

Hmm. It might just be time for you to crash, Miles, he thought slowly.

His tires seemed fine enough to execute his Skills, so at the straight, Luca would fire all he had with Side-by-Side King while instructing Haas to press Miles in.

There'd be no way Miles wouldn't falter into a mistake!

The straight opened, and Luca's system calculated as expected. However, a frown appeared on his face as he noticed something before even Trampos' engineers did.

Before the straight, the entrance from Turn 4 slimmed down. It wasn't wide enough for three cars to pass through simultaneously.

[Turn Exit Width: 6.2 meters]

[Total Car Widths Occupied: 5.7 meters]

[Available Space: 0.5 meters (0.25 meters per side)]

[High-Risk Collision Probability: 83%]

**Erik, drop back, mate**

Miles saw it too, and a grin spread across his face. Stuck in the middle, he was making it through regardless. One of them at the sides had to back off—it was just a matter of who.

"... IT'S A TIGHT SQUEEZE BEFORE THE STRAIGHT!"

"WOOOOHH!"

Haas' heart pounded. His foot hovered over the brake pedal, but he knew it was too late for a clean retreat. The space was too tight, he could see it!

SCREEEEEEECH!

A sickening screech of carbon fiber against carbon fiber filled the air as Miles' front-right scraped against Haas' left sidepod. Sparks exploded from the impact, tiny embers trailing behind them.

"WOOOOHH!"

BANG!

The jolt sent Haas veering right, his rear tire clipping the edge of Miles' front wing.

"...CONTATTO ALLA CURVA 4!"

"WOOOOHH!"

Haas felt the impact through the chassis, his steering wheel jolting in his grip. His right-rear tire wobbled for a split second and then completely gave out!

Bueseno Velocità crowd roared in excitement! Trampos' garage went silent.

This was a DNF no doubt. Haas' car was already skidding away onto the advertisement pavement beyond Turn 4.