My Formula 1 System-Chapter 627: S3 South African Grand Prix. 5

Luca finally found himself exactly where he had been aiming for. The long game had paid off as the race successively headed toward its second pit stop phase. What felt long and uncertain had turned into comfort and stability for both him and his team.

He didn’t rush it at all. Gradually, lap by lap, he let the race’s outcome come to him simply by racing faithfully like the best drivers do, while employing <Racer’s Ascendancy> like a seasoned culinarian.

One position. Then another. The commentators definitely didn’t overlook his rise, nor did rivals of any kind.

P3– Luca Rennick ↑

Just like that, a podium finish looked guaranteed.

Teamwork made the dreamwork, really.

Luca couldn’t have done it alone without his esteemed engineers guiding him through the traffic fabulously.

Trampos wasn’t as crisp and letter-perfect as Jackson’s crew, but they had a unique disposition that Luca couldn’t get from elsewhere. And that was his driving factor in every race.

Clean and methodical, Luca made it to P2 with one car remaining ahead—Luigi, fresh out of the pits just a lap earlier.

They couldn’t have met at a more perfect moment.

Luca didn’t need to force his way through. He was already faster.

"WOOOOOOHHHHH!"

The crowd felt the tension as the timing screens confirmed the shrinking gap. What made the chase frightening was how inevitable it was. For Luigi to shut down a charging Rennick, he needed to have some sort of superpowers or something!

At T7 and T8, the asphalt slightly rose. It was the second elevation imbalance throughout the entire circuit. After thirty laps, both drivers had mastered it, but in a tense moment, things tend to get a bit trickier.

Easier for Luca.

Difficult for Luigi and the W12.

Using <Yaw Flex>, Luca adjusted his chassis, trimming his wings mid-flow, and the Ferrari mildly breathed through the transition.

Luigi could never mirror this feat. Rigid and traditional, his line refused to be fluid and adaptive to gain leverage in that sector.

Side by side, the moment stretched just long enough for the world to hold its breath as Luca challenged the Black Dread. Then, the pace shifted slowly, and he simply slipped ahead spontaneously.

"WOOOOOHHHHHHH!"

P1– Luca Rennick ↑

P2– Antonio Luigi ↓

[1st Position]

"...Luca Rennick in P1...!"

"...Antonio Luigi in P2...!"

Second time today.

Second time Luca Rennick had overpowered the champion, Antonio Luigi—not with contact, not with desperation, but with control.

Around the circuit, the overtake received visceral reactions. People laughed. People clapped. People sulked.

Squadra Corse, champions of the world, fell silent in recovery.

It was never any other name; it was always Luca’s.

Why’s he so important? Why’s he so good? And why’s he so ineludible?

This was a driver who looked untouchable at the front, leading the pack with composure that didn’t match the years of his experience.

The reigning champion had been dispatched cleanly, and the race bent around Luca’s presence as if accepting a new order.

The paddock had to accept that Formula 1 might already be looking at its next champion.

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the field, the tension was about to snap; a deadly crash would ruin all that had been achieved.

Di Renzo, sitting in P6, was struggling to make it into the top five. He had spectacularly clawed back into competition after a duel with Marko Ignatova that not only won him his current spot but also the admiration of fans and analysts alike.

His "competence points" were soaring. He used to be the Buoso Di Renzo that the community dismissed.

Not anymore.

Now, they acknowledged his moxie.

Jimmy Damgaard, the real challenge lay ahead in P5 with the RBioL, a juggernaut of raw power and supremacy. To oppose him, patience and meticulousness were required from Di Renzo.

**Careful. 1.2. Buoso. Keep your mods balanced**

In his machine, Jimmy adhered to his line, respecting team orders while still trailing after Ailbeart in P4. Up the order in P3 was DiMarco. Surprising? Not really. It was the team’s plan, after all, to have both men in Red Bull among the leading cars, and they had achieved it.

If Di Renzo had learnt one trait from Luca in the past year, it was the art of sabotaging others’ plans.

Now, he was on a treadmill of his own career, finally making his name important in the profession of Formula racing. He was living the career he always wanted when Luca and Rodnick were dominating.

"...he trails Damgaard closely at the end of Sector 1! Big pressure there! This is the perfect moment for a daring move into P5, if Di Renzo can seize the tiniest opening...!"

Barely a second away, Di Renzo struck intently, going for Jimmy Damgaard. Jimmy was too arrogant for the encounter. He felt like he was above some drivers now. Indignantly, he held the optimal line, showing signs that he wouldn’t hesitate to go physical.

Di Renzo’s Ferrari edged closer, side mirrors catching glimpses of the rear tires, reading every microshift in Damgaard’s ballistic stance.

At T6, the track width widened. The structure also hinted at a cross-switch of racing lines into T7 and T8, a slingshot of opportunity Di Renzo couldn’t afford to waste. It was now or never against an S-level driver.

"WOOOOOOOHHHH!"

**Shift your brake bias to the rear. Double down on ERS and switch up when needed!**

’Loud and clear!’

Di Renzo feinted three times, attempting to lure micro-adjustments from Jimmy. Suddenly, he lunged at the apex.

Anticipating it like a child waiting for the lunch bell, Jimmy read Di Renzo’s move and defended like a soldier.

The MkII roared with extra power. Despite the elevation shift, risking control, Jimmy still employed the torque of his engine that surpassed Di Renzo’s threefold.

FWOOOOSHHHH!

The Ferrari slammed against the invisible wall of blue and black power.

"WOOOOOOHHH!"

"...oh my! That was close! A show of machine vigor at Sector 2...!"

The attempt failed.

The position remained. Jimmy Damgaard was unmovable.

Di Renzo was still basic. Precision met brute force.

**Great racing. More laps ahead**

As he lagged behind, Di Renzo felt the shot of frustration course through his body.

His race wasn’t over, but at least, overtaking Jimmy there could’ve proven he could make the top five.

He picked up from where he stopped. Marko was still behind; slowing down wasn’t an option.

But something changed for Di Renzo.

Something was off. Subtle at first. He felt it the moment Jimmy powered away. His rear twitched, his accelerator hesitated in response, the digital readouts flickered, and the power output dipped in microbursts.

In his confusion, all Di Renzo diagnosed was that the ERS system had stuttered.

But his team had more to say.

**Car, mate! Immediate! Mechanical failure, caused by the engine! No time to explain! Roll to safety!**

For Jackson Racing’s engineers to panic... something was definitely wrong.

Di Renzo didn’t fully comprehend, but he had this feeling that the mechanical failure was similar to what had retired Rodnick in the South African Grand Prix—same Grand Prix!

Panic gripped him. The once focused racer began oversteering and overcorrecting instead of staying calm in the chaos.

"...oh, look at that! Problem for Buoso! What’s wrong with the car...?!"

Of course, the 97 refused to respond properly, its speed and steering wavering, power flaring and dying, leaving Di Renzo tangled in a technical spider web.

Marko approached to capitalize and overtake, but Di Renzo’s unstable line made it difficult to do so.

SkRAAAAA!

A small but loud brush echoed between both cars like a lance splintering.

"WOOOOOHHHHH!"

Marko wavered but kept his trajectory with a grazed sidepod. Meanwhile, Di Renzo entered a whole new world of blurry colors and distorting sounds.

"WOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH!"

Marshals were already running out as the car crashed down the asphalt.