My Formula 1 System-Chapter 630: S3 South African Grand Prix. 8
Luca's patience finally wore thin.
Vasquez was no longer just a nuisance; he was a liability. Every botched apex cost Luca time he didn't have, and every slow exit allowed Luigi to creep closer, eroding the lead Luca had painstakingly built.
The time for patience had passed. Luca tightened his grip on the wheel and adjusted his entry, preparing to dictate the terms of the encounter. If the door wasn't going to be opened, he'd have to kick it down.
He still couldn't fathom Vasquez's logic. The defiance was senseless. There was no tactical advantage to be won, only the looming threat of a third blue flag. A penalty was a certainty if he continued, and for a driver of his standing, a penalty at this stage would be career-defining carnage.
The crowd's disapproval was audible even over the roar of the engines, a wave of vitriol following the Spaniard through every turn.
"This isn't racing, it's a barricade!"
"Is he just trying to feel relevant?"
"He's sabotaging the whole damn show!"
Some laughed in disbelief, others shouted in anger.
But across the entire circuit, only one man truly sensed the thread connecting the chaos.
Colt.
He didn't shout. He didn't react. He simply watched, his gaze fixed on the dance of the cars.
He saw it in the timing—the way Vasquez choked the racing line just enough to stall Luca's momentum without ever crossing into a wreck. It wasn't an accident, and it wasn't a tantrum. It was a masterpiece of obstruction. All at once, the pieces clicked together, and the motive finally bared itself.
Colt discussed his theory with the Trampos strategists. They didn't need much convincing; one look at the situation and they were in total agreement. What looked like defiance was, in truth, a cold-blooded design!
Within seconds, a wave of clarity washed through the garage, replacing the frantic tension with a cold, focused calm.
The realization was relayed instantly. Luca's radio crackled to life.
**Luca, don't wait—don't wait. You need to take your way through him. Now**
"Heh. I know. That's what I'm doing," Luca replied. "You don't need to tell me that."
**Negative, Luca. Listen carefully. Alejandro is deliberately stalling you**
**Velox and Squadra are COORDINATING. They're holding you to BRING LUIGI INTO PLAY**
"....."
You could hear the engine, nothing else.
**Luca—this is confirmed. It's intentional. You cannot wait for blue flags**
**Break free immediately. Do not give them another sector**
"....."
[Backmarker ahead: 1 sec]
'I feel like a stooge,' Luca mused, gripping the wheel tighter, frustration biting deep as he prepared to end Vasquez once and for all—but it was already too late.
[Analyzing 2nd Position's distance from host and Ferrari (Scuderia Z24)...]
[2nd Position is 1 sec away, host.]
[Slipstream alert ⚠︎]
ggGRRMM! VRRRMMM!
The roar of the FiammaVeloce 2 tore through the air, sending a chill through both Luca and Vasquez.
"Checkmate, Rennick," said Luigi with grim certainty, his chassis filling Luca's mirrors as he doubled down on ERS and lunged left.
"WOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!"
"Shit!" Luca hissed. His muscles locked as he snapped the wheel right, the car dancing on the edge of a spin.
At that exact micro-second, Vasquez finally lifted off the throttle. Bastard. The timing was cruel.
"...Refusing to yield, ignoring every blue flag thrown his way—Vasquez has turned this race into a barricade! He has played a dangerous game, and it has all led to this...!"
"...He's baited Rennick into a desperate overtake, and in doing so, he's opened the gates for Luigi! Look at the gap—it's gone! It's no longer a race; it's a collision of pure, unadulterated frustration!"
The magnates in the private suites sat up almost in unison.
This was no longer a matter of casual observation or passive interest; what was unfolding was the most pivotal wheel-to-wheel drama witnessed all season.
Luca boxed in, Luigi unleashed, Vasquez exposed. At this point, the cunning strategy became crystal clear. Now, the world was waiting to see if Rennick had fully fallen for the trap.
"WOOOOOOOHHHH!"
The trio screamed out of T1, a three-wide wall of carbon fiber struggling for a foothold. Vasquez held the center, but he was intentionally twitching his steering to crowd Luca toward the outer curb.
Luca felt the turbulence trying to rip his front wing upward, but he clamped down on the wheel. Using both <Side-by-side king> and <Gripper>, he established dominance in a precarious racing line while fighting two rivals who had teamed up against him.
Through the tightening radius of Turn 3, the pressure became physical. Vasquez squeezed right, his tires inches from Luca's sidepod, a blatant invitation to spin out or crash. Luca didn't flinch. He held the line with a stubborn, iron-willed grip, refusing to let the intimidation break his traction.
But on the far left, Luigi was in a different dimension.
Untroubled. Unshaken.
As they crested the rise into Turn 4, Luigi's power unit delivered a relentless, unmatched surge. With a clear line and a terrifying lack of resistance, the W12 surged ahead, the dirty air ribboning behind him like a whip.
By the time they hit the entry of the first straight, Luigi had breezed ahead, a black blur claiming the lead in the South African Grand Prix.
P1– Antonio Luigi ↑
P2– Luca Rennick ↓
P3– Ailbeart Moireach
"WOOOOOOOHHHHH!"
"...UNBELIEVABLE! Antonio Luigi has done it! Through the chaos of the opening complex, he's threaded the needle and emerged as the new leader of this Grand Prix…!"
"...Squadra Corse will be elated! All the tactical maneuvering from Alejandro Vasque had culminated in the ultimate switch. Luigi has snatched the lead, and you can bet he has no plans of letting it go anytime soon…!"
**Good racing, Luca. P2 now. Heads up.**
**Ten-second penalty to Alejandro. Let's focus now**
[2nd Position]
Luca cut back into the vacuum left in Luig's wake. Finally, his Ferrari drove across the nose of a deflated Alejandro Vasquez, claiming uncontested asphalt.
But unfortunately, the trap had sprung despite surviving the chaos that came with it.
[Analyzing Ferrari (Scuderia Z24) and host's distance from 1st Position]
[You are 2 seconds away, host.]
