My Formula 1 System-Chapter 569: Ninth Round

"Congratulations once again, Antonio, on your Belgian GP victory. Now in Saudi Arabia, how does it still feel?"

Luigi answered with a disturbed face, "Feels overdue, of course."

The Saudi Arabia GP qualifiers was the next event to be sealed. Being the driver with increasing momentum, Luigi's words were the most important this ninth round.

The interviewers wanted to suck his brain dry, but even though Luigi replied overconfidently, his answers were still short and indecipherable.

"You're still fifty points behind Luca Rennick. Is the gap too wide?"

Flipping the question, Luigi asked, "What do you think? Is it?"

The reporter he asked directly fell silent, the others around him shrugged, while those farther behind found the tension funny.

If Luigi wanted an unsarcastic answer, then 50+ points was a gap too wide for a low-tier driver.

However, it was a moderate gap for someone like him, piloting a car like the W12.

The season still had a long way to go. Luigi would term this his worst campaign if he failed to shrink that gap in just three races.

"Many say Trampos still holds the upper hand with Luca. How do you respond?"

"Haha. I remember they said that before Belgium. Now they say nothing."

"You sound confident, Antonio. Is there something we're missing here in Riyadh? What's the next step for the champion?"

"Win again," Luigi replied. "I'm familiar with this track. Davide's absence only makes things much easier."

The world couldn't wait to see it happen.

Only one driver could finish in P1, where many had already staked their victory claims.

~~~~~~~~

Red—Red—Red—Red—Red

Riyadh Zenith Circuit wasn't a new track to Luca, and Saudi Arabia definitely wasn't new either.

On his last two racing outings to the giant Arab country, Luca had left with remarkable scars.

Last season, alongside his P5 finish, was the Trampos x Ferrari x Jackson drama, about data leaks that got him and Isabella involved.

And the season before that... was the infamous F2 Grand Prix clash between him and Ansel.

Legends of the sport still claimed to this day that it was the most authentic and most cinematic lap-after-lap duel the community had ever seen.

Luca and Ansel had fought against each other for more than five laps.

Inch after inch, neither of them gave the other the space to get away, until Ansel couldn't afford—or rather, refused—to lose.

Trampos had failed to establish a solid driver hierarchy, and that cost the team dearly that summer night.

Injured for races, Luca's absence malnourished their point tally, and Ansel suffered heavy punishments and a suspension.

Reminiscing two years later, Luca found the ordeal amusing.

He remembered Ansel's Dallara being way too close as they cut through the corners of the skyscrapers and ultramodern buildings.

Back then, the tension wasn't only from their cars, but from their minds as they struggled to emerge victorious while teetering between friend and enemy.

Luca was sure he and Ansel would have had a good laugh about it if he were here.

[SYSTEM ONLINE...]

Putting on his helmet, Luca faced the same track where it had all happened.

The same skyscraper-lined straights, the same corners stared back.

The only contrast was the bright afternoon sky.

But this wasn't the time for memories at all. He was here to attack the track with the same vigor he honed when fleeing from Ansel.

Green—Green—Green—Green—Green

The pitlane was open and qualifiers were underway.

As usual, it was Victor who took the stage first for Trampos in Q1, to find solid ground and pace, and also to prevent a bottom-grid elimination.

From his own cockpit, Luca watched his young, determined teammate huff inside his helmet before gliding out as the engineers released him.

Once he was out, his Ferrari cut widthwise across the pitlane as the roar of acceleration followed behind.

Victor was set on pulling off something, Luca could feel it.

That P11 finish from the last race was a pinch away from a point for him and the team, too close to sting and also enough to fuel him to perform better this time.

Earlier, as his mentor, Luca had been approached by a visibly disturbed Victor, who laid his worries before him after drills.

Victor confessed that the team was losing trust in him as a capable F1 competitor, and that if he didn't step up soon, there was a real chance he'd be swapped out before long.

Luca was sure such things hadn't been verbally stated outside board meetings, but even without words, atmosphere and energy could always be felt.

In that case, Victor could sense the team had turned a cold eye on him, and Luca would be honest—he was starting to feel the same current too.

Luca assured Victor that he wasn't imagining it, and that was exactly why he had to step up. The weight on his shoulders was real, and he'd have to push harder if he wanted to silence doubt.

He also told him truthfully that the team had never fully placed its trust in him as a championship competitor, and he had to accept that reality rather than resent it.

Reminding him that this was his first official F1 campaign, to expect anything less than cold eyes from time to time was to think Formula 1 was a kindergarten playground.

The best advice for Victor was to push through and perform at his absolute best.

He was still an underdog, a driver with room to grow, and a name to make for himself.

He wasn't a veteran losing his prime.

**Luca, copy? We're… uh, a little surprised here—Jimmy's rolling out this early for Q1. Eyes up, he's already pushing on track**

Luca knitted his brows as that information crackled through his radio.

He didn't reply; rather, he only waited, watching that section of the track beyond the pitlane.

Desmond Lloyd's Mercedes, a blur. Petrov's Audi, following two seconds later.

And... the Red Bull (RBioL), with a composed Jimmy Damgaard driving steadily for his outlap.

It was a big surprise for Bueseno Velocità to field their main driver before their second driver, Matteo Bianchi.

Perhaps this was a strategic adjustment—something cunning, calculated.

Velocità had been climbing steadily ever since Jimmy Damgaard took the RBioL seat following DiMarco's injury.

But the thing about his rise was that it had been quiet, far too quiet for a team like theirs. Maybe it was because most eyes were fixed on Squadra and Trampos instead.

Frowning pragmatically inside his helmet, Luca vowed he wouldn't let Velocità creep up from underneath and snatch everything while the rest were blindsided.

He decided to keep his eyes on them too.