My Formula 1 System-Chapter 642: Underdog

Breaking News. 7:45 AM, Aug 5.

The FIA has officially confirmed the implementation of heightened pre-race security measures ahead of the German Grand Prix, with protocols taking effect even before qualifying sessions begin. The decision follows growing concerns over national instability as teams, officials, and fans arrive from across the world.

FIA representatives stressed that these actions are preventive, designed to avoid a recurrence of the disruption witnessed at the Italian Grand Prix earlier in the season. Access routes, paddock movement, and public zones will all be closely monitored.

While race operations remain unchanged on paper, the atmosphere surrounding Round Fifteen has unmistakably shifted toward caution and vigilance.

Aug 8.

The Italian Grand Prix had ended in tragedy—not on the track, but in the senseless violence that followed. A day after the race, a street mob killed three Trampos fans in the chaotic aftermath of Jimmy Damgaard’s victory for Velocita.

The FIA had since implemented strict protocols, coordinating with local authorities to reinforce crowd segregation, expand controlled fan zones, and tighten post-event policing. These measures had held; media outrage had gradually cooled, investigations were proceeding, and there had been no repeat of such violence since.

But at the German Grand Prix, they increased their vigilance.

The FIA understood that this round was a potential stage for payback. This wasn’t just another race. With Trampos Racing competing on home soil and emotions still raw, the risk was far from abstract. This was a country where 98% of the population supported the same team, a statistic that translated into a deeper, potentially savage loyalty.

The FIA didn’t have the word of every spectator, nor any assurance that resentment had dissolved. They didn’t need it. The tension in the air was thick enough to taste. Prevention was the only responsible response.

As it stood, the measures being taken were working. The circuit’s perimeter had successfully been secured, creating a safe, calm, and controlled environment where qualifying sessions could proceed without interference.

Rain had fallen in the week, freshening the environment, leaving the asphalt of parking lots, access roads, service lanes, and paddocks dark and clean. The track itself appeared even darker as it was freshly sprayed with a rubberizing compound by a slow rolling machine methodically operated by three marshals in the distance.

The atmosphere was dense and expectant as the active racing community and the paddock itself congregated around the buildings and towers, with cameras following every movement.

About an hour and a half after preparations began, Q1 finally got underway. A brief sprint session earlier had allowed Outback Performance to spot a technical irregularity on Max’s car, one that was corrected almost immediately. Also, the stewards took noticeably longer with their checks on Squadra Corse machinery, prompting heated exchanges and complaints from the Blacks.

But as the saying goes, if you’re known for hiding an ace up your sleeve, don’t be surprised when they make you roll up your shirtsleeves every time.

Red—Red—Red

Green—Green—Green

Exactly 85 seconds after the pit lane opened, a red Ferrari glided out of the Trampos garage. Within moments, the driver released it onto the circuit with uniform acceleration. By the time it reached Sector 2, where the circuit opened wide like a sun-drenched battlefield, the stark red bodywork of the machine caught every ray.

This was Victor’s last qualifier in a chassis without prestige.

Training for the JYX series had begun, and it was going smoothly.

But with great power comes great responsibility.

In a paddock like this, what chance did he really have? What difference would a better car make for a rookie when measured against rivals sharpened by years at the limit?

Victor’s fear wasn’t an inability to compete; it was the prospect of failing even with a superior package. Because if he failed then, it would mean the problem was never the machinery, the timing, or the circumstances.

The problem would be him. It would prove he simply wasn’t the real deal.

In a sport this unforgiving, those were the kind of thoughts that could break a man.

**Victor, out-lap complete. You’re clear to push. Go for it**

The engineers sat in uncharacteristic silence as Victor’s telemetry blossomed across their monitors. As the acceleration curve arched higher against a steadily climbing throttle, they exchanged glances that were difficult to name.

A newfound assurance was taking root within the team. While this shift had yet to reach the board, the rank-and-file of Trampos Racing finally felt a surge of confidence: Victor would deliver this round. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

As the circuit began to blur into a streak of gray and green, Victor narrowed his focus to racing parameters alone. He chased the rhythm of the asphalt, matching the early runners sector by sector.

The Bergwaldring Circuit hadn’t really changed its character despite the recent expansions. It remained the balance track Victor had always known, now stretched into a 6.1km technical masterpiece with 14 corners and 4 straightaways—all stitched together by a mix of fast chicanes through the forested middle sector and heavy-braking hairpins guarding the ends of the straights.

Despite the early hairpin of T1 and the chicanes of T4 and T5, the flow of the track was still there, rewarding drivers who had rhythm yet knew how to break it decisively at the right moment.

This circuit was Victor’s most familiar ground. Born and raised in Germany, he had watched races from these very stands while dreaming of driving here. At 16, he joined Trampos Racing, and that gave him the privilege of more visits to the track even outside of race weekends.

If there was really such a thing as home advantage in Formula One, Victor had it here.

By the halfway mark of Q1, the track was occupied by sixteen cars. Rubber had been laid down, and temperatures were creeping up as commitment was rewarded. Victor’s Ferrari was the only scarlet streak, always seen struggling with understeer at the chicanes, which hampered his overall lap pace.

**Always watch your entry. It’s more like wedging to the inside than tracking the line**

Victor gnashed his teeth as he failed to properly execute. That was easy for an engineer to say, but he wasn’t Luca, and he didn’t have the luxury of the best corner grip.

When the next heavy braking zone of Sector 3 unfolded, Victor attempted the maneuver again. This time, he executed almost perfectly, carrying speed from the fourth straight into T13 without losing his momentum.

At the end of that flyer, he noticed that just that small but vital adjustment had done justice to his pace.

P7– Victor Surmann (+0.894) ↑

P8– Elias Nystrom (+0.899) ↓