My Formula 1 System

Two laps earlier, at Lap 33, the pulse in Hungary quickened to a greater intensity, even after Luigi's stunning double overtake that had already been termed a "race transformer."

Luca had felt this new wave of tension, the scent of scorched rubber now so thick as the race reached its midpoint. Budapest was fading into the bluish-gray dusk, and the floodlights and streetlights lining the track—just a bit beyond the sand—were now gradually beginning to glow.

[Tires are in satisfactory condition, host. DRS is unavailable. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 20%.]

[Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. A pitstop is not entirely recommended, host. This condition might serve through the next few laps.]

[Heat Management +1]

P1— Ailbeart Moireach ↑

P2— Marko Ignatova ↓

P3— Davide DiMarco

P4— Luis Dreyer

P5— Luca Rennick

[Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host's distance from 4th Position]

[You are 1.5 seconds away, host.]

Luca's implacable ambition for Dreyer's position was generally known to everyone. He had been wanting to close that gap ever since, and lap after lap, he had been doing just that. Millimetres had been shaved, and the previous 3-second delta had already been cut in half.

Luca's advancement, however, was significantly hindered by Luigi's lurking approach. Every now and then, Luca would catch the silent predator creeping into his mirrors. Back when Luigi was still fresh off his jaw-dropping double overtake on Damgaard and Rice, his Mercedes had never looked more portentous.

[Analyzing 6th Position's distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]

[6th Position is 1.5 sec away, host.]

**Luca, you're gaining on Dreyer—nice pace! Watch Luigi, he's close, don't let him surprise you**

Back then, both drivers acknowledged how close they were. Luigi could tell Luca had begun to defend, as he was now taking tighter lines—the same conventional ones Luigi would have taken—thereby cutting off his line early on.

Luigi simply mirrored him and patiently waited for the wider sections of the track to make bigger moves.

At Lap 36, things began to escalate between the three—Luigi, Luca, and Dreyer.

Dreyer had just suffered a humiliating shutdown from DiMarco, whom he had aimed to overtake. He lunged for DiMarco's P3 in Sector 2, targeting the T6–T7 chicane's tight 5.9m apexes. Being a second away, he pushed ERS, challenging his Red Bull against DiMarco's.

DiMarco mocked his attempt because he knew he was the better Red Bull veteran. He braked very late into T6, where the impossibly tight curvature of the chicane began. His tires kissed the inside curbs, and Dreyer had nowhere to go but to take the outer lane.

Dreyer knew for sure there was no way he could hang on to the asphalt like Luca did earlier this race in a duel with Marko Ignatova. But he decided to try regardless. Half a second into his attempt to hold the outside line, the Spaniard felt his tires wobble like a thread.

To prevent a spinout, he quickly abandoned the attempt and cut back to the inside line, but by then, DiMarco had already moved past.

The crowd roared, "WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!" as DiMarco's Red Bull danced through T7's left, leaving Dreyer 1.5 seconds adrift, his momentum gutted.

"...DiMarco's a fortress! Luis Dreyer's been schooled in the chicane—Velocità's untouchable in P3...!"

"My tires are shot!" Dreyer bawled. "He blocked me clean! What's my gap?!"

**1.5 to Davide. A second to Luca. Watch Luca. Big rival**

Exactly. With that momentum severance, Dreyer's gap to Luca had decreased even further, bringing Luca and Luigi closer to the Outback driver.

[Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host's distance from 4th Position]

[You are 1 seconds away, host.]

Luis Dreyer cursed with frustration as he realized Luca had just brought double danger toward him. If both drivers managed to overtake him here, it would mean a brutal drop out of the top five.

DiMarco's shutdown of Dreyer had been Luca's opening—a gift wrapped in Dreyer's humiliation—and he took it. But with Luigi close enough to be termed a duel, Luca had to be meticulous with the way he took his lines.

"Luis Dreyer's tires are cooked," Luca muttered as he analyzed them himself. "DiMarco really broke him. I can take P4 at T8's exit... but Luigi's too close. One slip, and he's through."

[Analyzing 6th Position's distance from host and Ferrari (JRX-92B)...]

[6th Position is 1 sec away, host.]

**Luca, Luis is weak—hit T8's inside! Antonio's on you, block the chicane's exit**

"...LUCA RENNICK HAS ANTONIO LUIGI BREATHING CLOSELY! BUT HE DOESN'T FALTER AS HE PURSUES LUIS DREYER OUT OF THE CHICANE AND TOWARD SECTOR 3...!"

"...IT MIGHT BECOME A THREE-WAY BATTLE HERE IN HUNGARY! LUIGI HAS THE GREATEST PACE...!"

[Analyzing Ferrari (JRX-92B) and host's distance from 4th Position]

[You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]

Luca didn't hesitate to nose his Ferrari to Dreyer's side. Dreyer cast him a glance of disgust before snapping his focus back onto the race.

Dreyer was only lucky that T9 was a particularly wide section of the track, and that Luca had chosen to focus on getting Gripper to grip through the outside. If not, the Side-by-Side King would have immediately sent Dreyer into the abyss.

All team principals—even Mr. Campanella himself—sensed there was some smart strategy in play from Luigi, who had taken the outside lane just like Luca. For several laps now, he appeared to have been simply imitating Luca's every move.

It made Luca wonder if Luigi was pursuing the position, or pursuing him? Luigi felt more aggressive on him personally than on the position, and if Luca managed to take P4, he would need a gap for Dreyer to fill, or else Luigi would be stealing P5 right after, making the entire effort no different in result.

The trio hit T9–T10's straight-like path, a 7-meter-wide runway to chaos. Luca, 0.8 seconds from Dreyer, opened DRS, his Ferrari surging to 308 km/h.

[DRS Engaged]

Luigi, just 1 seconds behind, mirrored him precisely, both engines screaming in unison. Dreyer, his Red Bull wobbling under strain, was the weakest link now—his tires at critical wear.

"…Rennick's on Dreyer, Luigi's on Rennick! Three cars, one line—this is a Hungarian Grand Prix classic!…"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

Back in the Silver Stallions' highest VIP stand, the loudness of the race was a bit more mellowed and suppressed, but the tension remained thick. The commentary was distant; "…Rennick's relentless!", and the cars seemed a hundred times faster than they looked from a bird's eye view.

The management up there kept discussing Luca and Di Renzo. Di Renzo was holding P8—strong, but everyone in Jackson Racing's analytics team had expected more than that in this race. Even Rodnick was grumbling in frustration, visibly disappointed that his apprentice couldn't deliver a masterclass of a performance.

"Luca is pushing the 92B beyond its design. It's a great marvel when he drives it. Look at its grip holding that tight line against Luis's side," Mrs. Jarvis noted. "Imagine if he's handed a chassis that's... better."

Mr. Sutherland spoke up. "The 97 is five percent better in downforce, which supports grip. With Luca behind the wheel, ten more horsepower—it'd give him the edge to clear Antonio and Luis, maybe even challenge Davide's P3."

After speaking, both of them glanced at Mr. Palmer. Since Jarvis was seated farthest to the left, she had a clear side view of all the men, including Pires, who was at the farthest right with a visible frown on his face. The man was clearly unhappy this discussion had been brought up again, for what must have been the seventh time this evening.

"The 92B's proving itself. Tires are optimal, engine temp stable, no pit stop needed for at least ten more laps. Luca's outdriving Outback's critical wear and matching Antonio's mind-blowing horsepower. The car's adapting to his aggression," Mr. Palmer said with a shrug. "Why risk the 97 when the 92B's delivering?"

"…Crisscross madness! Rennick's fighting back—Dreyer's on the ropes…!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

"Because he will be even better with the 97!" Mrs. Jarvis shot back.

"You'll put our technical order in jeopardy!" Mr. Pires pressed, for the hundredth time this evening.

"Even when both specimens are ready?!" Sutherland asked, his tone sharp. "Luca's crisscrossing with Antonio now, but in the 97, he'd have cleared him at T14's hairpin. We're capping his potential, and Buoso's P10 isn't justifying Marcellus's slot."

"Don't you think it'd be best to put Buoso in the 97 while Luca remains in the 92B?" Mr. Pires countered. "Wouldn't this even out our potential and threat in the championship until Marcellus's recovery?""

"Buoso is not ready for the 97," Mr. Palmer said flatly. "He's consistent, yes, but P10's no championship pace. The car remains unbuilt. Isn't it better to remain optimistic during Marcellus's absence than to begin politicking?"

"It is only prior strategy..."

"Why destabilize the team to promote Luca's success?"

Mrs. Jarvis gripped her chair, her voice rising. "Destabilize? Luca Rennick is carrying Jackson Racing in his FIRST season as a Jackson Racing driver, and an F1 driver! He makes Luis Dreyer look like an amateur, and he holds off the Mercedes the best. Luca in the 97 would be untouchable, maybe even—"

She couldn't finish her sentence. Not because she was interrupted, but because of the chaos that suddenly erupted from the three-wide dogfight.

Luigi lunged for yet another possible double-overtake in this wild race, but he clipped Dreyer's tire instead.

The impact was catastrophic. Dreyer's Outback Performance Red Bull responded with a violent twizzle. His car unexplainably leaped from the asphalt and bounced onto the top of Luca's Ferrari!

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

Luca swore his helmeted head could have been smashed if not for the halo behind him designed for moments like this.

Some carbon fibre scattered into his cockpit like shrapnel, but Luca refused to flinch and refused to panic. The crowd roared at the wild sight as he swerved toward Luigi.

He deliberately nudged Luigi—a sharp tap of fury to show his rage at what he had caused—but styled it to look like he was frantically correcting the steering.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

"…OH MY GOODNESS…!"

For a split second, Luca was Dreyer's podium, literally carrying the Red Bull on his back. And then, as he swerved away, the car hurtled from atop him and crashed back onto the asphalt with a sickening thud.

"..DREYER'S IN THE AIR—AND IT'S RAINING CARBON IN SECTOR 3! HOW DID RENNICK SURVIVE THAT—AND HE'S STILL RACING!"