F1: The Speed Legend

Bold. Calm. Decisive. And utterly insane.

Vasseur, who had been half-asleep the whole time, suddenly found his eyes wide open. His heart leaped into his throat, an uncontrollable surge of excitement bursting forth.

And yet—

It was almost a brilliant move. Just almost.

Alesi showed his experience. In that split second, he tightened his line, sticking wheel-to-wheel with Kai. He squeezed him aggressively, a twisted, ferocious look on his face, fully prepared for mutual destruction.

He knew that if they both went out, he had nothing to lose. He could still get a seat at Trident. Kai, on the other hand, was not so lucky.

The situation was at a breaking point.

Alesi already had the advantage, having entered the corner first. Kai was forcing his way in and had no claim to the line. With their tires still cold and lacking grip, Kai’s plan to accelerate late in the corner was no longer an option.

Alesi’s aggression had turned his advantage into a weapon. If they collided, Kai would be 100% out of the race, while Alesi still had a 50/50 shot of continuing. The odds were not in Kai’s favor.

It was about to happen—

Kai lifted.

He backed off the throttle, corrected his steering, and hugged the very inside of the apex. His car’s tail twitched, and in that brief instant, Alesi, still wheel-to-wheel, cemented his lead and shot out of the corner.

Alesi’s laughter was carried on the wind. He even lifted his left hand and shot a middle finger back at him. If it weren’t for the helmet, a stream of trash talk would have followed.

Screech!

Kai’s right-front tire locked up, sending a puff of white smoke into the air.

Zhou Guanyu seized the opportunity. He cut in from the outside line, tucked in right behind Alesi, and shot past Kai, pulling half a car-length ahead as they exited Turn 1.

In the pit garage, Vasseur leaned back, a look of mild disappointment on his face. He’d been so close. The Number 4 car had almost pulled off a legendary overtake, going from P4 to P1 in a single corner.

But in Formula racing, a near-miss is a total miss.

Vasseur looked at Marchionne and quipped with a grin, ”A bit impulsive, but he’s got guts.”

It wasn’t a criticism. On the contrary, you could hear the admiration in his voice.

But for the first time, Marchionne didn’t reply. He just gave Vasseur a long, meaningful look and turned his eyes back to the screen.

Vasseur raised an eyebrow, confused, and looked back as well.

Turn 2 was a high-speed right-hander, leading into the Turn 3-4 complex. Alesi, Zhou, and Kai were still locked in battle, separated by no more than half a car-length.

Alesi and Zhou were both driving hard, squeezing each other, creating a vortex of turbulent air. This forced both of them to brake slightly late, and both cars ran a little wide. But neither driver would back down, sacrificing their tires for the sake of this wheel-to-wheel fight.

As they transitioned from the high-speed Turn 2, Zhou braked even later than Alesi, once again trying to force a pass around the outside.

Alesi, still unsettled from the chaos, reverted to instinct, slamming the door and defending the inside line. Their cars were pointed in slightly different directions, and the air between them was a swirling mess.

Kai, who had been waiting, biding his time, saw it.

An opportunity.

He followed Zhou’s line, positioning his car on the outside, but with a slight, almost imperceptible change in angle. From Zhou’s mirrors, it looked like nothing, and his attention was fully on Alesi.

Kai remained calm, patient. Just as Zhou initiated his turn-in, his habitual late-braking move, Kai cut inside of him.

Brake. Downshift. All in one motion.

The tires, which were finally starting to get warm from the friction, bit the tarmac. The red nose of his car shot like a dagger into the tiny, fleeting gap between Zhou’s nose and Alesi’s gearbox, and he claimed the position.

Zhou never saw it coming.

Alesi definitely never saw it coming.

The situation had changed in the blink of an eye.

Kai was locked in, his focus total. He knew the arc of every corner, the exact spatial coordinates he needed. He could visualize the braking point and the steering angle in his mind before he even reached them.

In a impossibly tight and suffocating space, he carved a clean, perfect line, holding his position through the S-curves of Turn 3 and 4.

In the span of a single breath, by the exit of Turn 4, Kai was now half a car-length ahead of Zhou.

And he wasn’t done. He used his perfect line to get on the throttle early, and the car shot away, leaving Zhou behind.

In the chaos, Armstrong had also tried to close the gap, but the battle in front of him had forced him to check up. By the time he recovered, Zhou had regained his senses and pulled away. The pack had been established.

Alesi. Kai. Zhou. Armstrong.

It had all happened within the first four corners.

Vasseur’s eyes were wide. Now he understood Marchionne’s secret smile. Kai’s ”reckless” move in Turn 1 wasn’t an impulsive gamble. It was a calculated attack. He had intentionally charged in, on cold tires, like a master on a high wire, giving the spectators a heart attack while he himself was in complete control.

Vasseur shot a look at Nicolas Todt.

A small, appreciative smile was playing on Nicolas’s lips. This kid has something.

But that was just the beginning.

Kai took a steadying breath, his mind a supercomputer, his car a rocket in the cold Maranello air. The weak winter sun was trying to peek through.

A fine day for racing. Warm-up’s over. Time to get serious.

Kai slotted his car into Alesi’s slipstream, just half a second behind. The two red cars shot through the Turn 5 hairpin and onto the high-speed back straight, like two arrows released from a bow.

Kai wasn’t in a hurry. He knew he needed to be patient. As much as he disliked Alesi, underestimating an enemy was a good way to lose.

Alesi was not going to be easy.

The guy was a powder keg: hard, violent, and liable to explode at any second. He was as aggressive on defense as he was on offense. His lines were unpredictable. He’d change direction or braking points without warning, not even hesitating to slam his car over the kerbs to hold the apex.

The key was, there was no method to his madness. He was just a ”young master” doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

Like right now.

BANG!

Up ahead, Alesi hammered his brakes for the entry to Turn 6, a violent, over-aggressive move that locked his tires and left two black lines on the track. Dust and smoke filled the air, the smell of burnt rubber acrid.

Kai did not follow him into the mistake.

He just gently lifted off the throttle, managing the gap. He could see that Alesi’s braking point was not just aggressive; it was reckless. A few more laps of that, and his tires would be completely shot.

Kai refused to be drawn into Alesi’s rhythm.

And just like that, the bold, untamable, chaotic Kai had suddenly transformed... into a patient little lamb.

~~----------------------

Patreon Advance Chapters:

[email protected] / Dreamer20