F1: The Speed Legend

Unbelievable!

You could rack your brains and search your gut, but the only word that came to mind was unbelievable!

Before the season started, no one could have predicted GP3 would look like this:

Eighteen drivers, all joining forces to besiege an outsider from the streets, and yet, they couldn’t stop him. The young hopefuls, raised in karts and groomed by academies, stood helpless before a ”baby driver” with less than six months of experience, watching him conquer their territory and sweep the field.

It left them speechless.

Even though it was just GP3, it was a sensation. The entire paddock, from top to bottom, was swept up in the storm.

This scene was probably something even Sergio Marchionne hadn’t anticipated. Jean Todt’s moment of inspiration had extended all the way from the Ferrari Academy to the GP3 grid?

Now, Marchionne’s expectations were climbing. How high could this intruder go? Under mounting pressure and constant siege, would Kai crumble, or would he be polished like a diamond, shining even brighter?

It wasn’t just Marchionne. Every eye in the paddock was watching, waiting, curious to see the next twist in the story.

However, for the other GP3 drivers, this was a humiliation. A total, utter disgrace. They weren’t just background characters; they were stepping stones.

Obviously, no one liked this situation.

Someone had to step up. Someone had to stop Kai’s winning streak and break the narrative that revolved entirely around him.

The Sprint Race!

This was why GP3 had the Sprint format. A reverse grid could upset the whole board, forcing the dominant drivers into a dogfight instead of letting them cruise to victory.

Look at Leclerc: three consecutive Feature Race wins, but in the Sprint Races, he was bogged down in trouble, facing bayonets at every turn.

The root cause of Kai’s explosion in popularity was that he had achieved the impossible by winning both Sprint Races in Spain and Austria.

Now, it was time to stop that momentum.

Silverstone had a moderate number of overtaking opportunities. Fundamentally, it tested a driver’s rhythm. Once the lead pack built a gap, it was hard for the cars behind to catch up, given the similar performance of the GP3 cars.

So, for the next day’s Sprint Race, every driver was sharpening their knives.

The opportunity fell to Trident, the only team whose setup could currently match ART.

In Saturday’s Feature Race, Dorian Boccolacci had been unlucky. First, a grid penalty from Austria dropped him from his hard-earned P4 starting spot. Then, he was hit during the race and forced off track.

He finished 8th. It was the only silver lining of a terrible race, because P8 meant pole position for the Sprint Race.

The paddock had high hopes for Boccolacci. He was the best hope to challenge ART and Kai. Boccolacci himself was itching for a fight, eager to break ART’s blockade.

Starting alongside him on the front row was his Trident teammate, Giuliano Alesi.

Finishing 7th in the Feature Race gave Alesi P2 for the Sprint.

He didn’t need anyone to fan the flames. Alesi had been staring daggers at Kai for weeks. His fighting spirit was burning.

Silverstone suited Alesi’s aggressive, flowing style perfectly. He felt like a fish in water here, his ability amplified by 20%.

Undoubtedly, this was Trident’s best chance for a season-first win.

But Trident had to face Kai.

Kai, who was burdened with a mission, sharpening his own blade. Kai, for whom every race might be his last.

Silverstone was also a stage for Kai, a place to showcase his understanding of speed.

Fluid. Electric.

The Number 2 car was a red-and-black streak, flowing freely like the lines in Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

It was a joy to watch.

Kai once again displayed incredible overtaking ability. Starting from P8, he went on a rampage, charging all the way up to the back of Alesi

He was in P2!

Boccolacci, the pole-sitter, had suffered another disaster. In the first corner, he got tangled in the chaos, was hit by Alesi, lost half his rear wing, and had to retire before finishing the first lap. Trident’s hopes now rested entirely on Alesi.

After leading most of the race, with three laps to go, Alesi felt the immense pressure of Kai closing in.

Alesi’s nerves snapped tight!

Facing Kai’s attack, Alesi was hypersensitive and aggressive. Amidst the layers of pressure, old memories flooded back like a tide.

And then, Alesi chose to gamble.

In the right-handed Turn 15, Kai finally launched his fatal strike. He claimed the inside line, his nose ahead of Alesi’s rear wheel. He had the line; the overtake was happening.

Alesi, hanging by a thread, lost his mind. He forced a cutback, aggressively squeezing the space that wasn’t there.

Collision.

Kai was forced completely off the track.

The crowd gasped!

However, Alesi didn’t benefit. He lost momentum, and the fisherman who had been waiting behind them capitalized

Jack Aitken.

Aitken, who had finished 5th in the Feature Race after a lackluster performance, started 4th in the Sprint. After adjusting overnight, he regrouped and drove brilliantly, overtaking his way up the field.

Seeing Alesi lose his head and force the collision, Aitken seized the opportunity in a split second.

The situation had flipped instantly.

Worse, in the collision with Alesi, Kai’s front wing was damaged. His downforce was compromised. At Silverstone, this was fatal. Not only did he drop to 3rd, but the gap to the cars behind him shrank rapidly. The pressure shifted from attack to defense.

Fuck!

In the pit lane, Borreipaire couldn’t control himself. He swore loudly. In his peripheral vision, he saw the ART crew clutching their heads, unable to believe their eyes. Anger, regret, and frustration rolled through the garage like a heatwave.

But Borreipaire quickly regained control. He keyed the radio. ”Kai, status? Can you finish?”

0.1 seconds. 0.2 seconds.

No immediate response. Borreipaire’s heart sank. He wanted to skin Alesi alive. Using such a despicable method to stop Kai... he had no shame.

But right now, he didn’t care about Alesi. His focus was entirely on Kai.

”Luckily, he’s not Verstappen.”

Finally, Kai’s voice came through. Borreipaire froze, taking a beat to realize Kai was joking. If it had been Verstappen, Kai would have been in the wall, race over.

But

What kind of international joke is this? Kai is still in the mood to crack jokes?

Borreipaire: !!!

”Pierre, the race isn’t over. If my engineer loses his cool, what am I supposed to do? It’s not over until we cross the line.”

”Right?”

Calm. Steady. And more than that, Borreipaire could hear the fighting spirit in his voice.

Borreipaire’s blood began to boil. He gathered his scattered thoughts. ”Two laps to go. How bad is the front wing?”

”Left endplate is broken and gone. But no direct impact on handling yet. Any other damage?” Kai communicated fast, racing against time.

”No. Repeat, no. Data looks clear. Kai, you can do this!”

It seemed Kai could stay out and fight. The damage wasn’t terminal.

”Gap to Kari behind?” Kai glanced in his mirror. He could feel the pressure, but he needed the number.

”1.417.”

In a flash, Kai mapped out the battlefield. Aitken and Alesi were ahead; he had no energy to chase them now. Being greedy would result in losing everything. Behind him were Niko Kari (Arden) and his teammate Russell.

So far this season, Pulcini had been Arden’s star, but Kari was their number one driver. He was in car #5, right on Kai’s tail.

Like Aitken, Kari was desperate to prove himself. He would seize any lifeline for his career.

Now, the chance was here.

The gap was 1.417 seconds. Given Kai’s damage, it would be under a second in no time. DRS range.

The crisis was imminent.

Decisively, Kai asked, ”Ask the team: can Russell put pressure on Kari?”

The car right behind Kari was ART’s Russell. It would be stupid not to use his teammate.

”If Russell refuses, it doesn’t matter. I just need to know the result so I can define my position,” Kai added quickly.

”Received. Contacting now.”

Everything happened in seconds.

Exiting Turn 18 onto the main straight, Kari’s #5 car was visible in the mirrors. The gap was under a second.

Ahead, Turn 3 marked the first DRS zone.

Even if Russell was willing to help sandwich Kari, there was a gap. It would take time for Russell to close up and apply pressure.

That meant Kai was on his own for Turn 3. If he couldn’t hold the position, he knew Kari and Russell wouldn’t show mercy. He could drop from 3rd to 5th.

In this predicament, Kai was strangely calm. No hesitation, no annoyance. Just a hint of excitement.

To face difficulty and challenge on a historic stage like Silverstone, digging deeper for potential, chasing the limit of speed...

Wasn’t that exciting?

Sure enough, passing through Turn 2, Kai could see the #5 car right on his tail, the smell of gunpowder in the air.

The DRS zone was on the straight after Turn 2.

Kari opened DRS.

The air tore apart. The #5 car surged, pulling out of Kai’s slipstream, cutting to the inside, going for the pass.

In the nick of time, Kai remained calm. He watched the #5 car slot into his vision like a cannonball, squeezing his line. If Kai forced the inside now, a penalty would be the least of his worries; a crash was guaranteed.

He didn’t want to retire on the penultimate lap.

But he wasn’t going to retreat, either. Going soft in a dogfight meant throwing away your armor.

Calm. Steady. Focused.

Kai breathed evenly, controlling his boiling blood and pounding heart. He felt the track flowing like water over his toes and fingertips.

Patience. More patience.

Ten meters. Eight meters. Getting closer to the Turn 3 apex. It looked like Kai was going to shoot straight off the track. The crowd’s hearts were in their throats.

Then, like a scalpel, he cut right. A clean, sharp turn-in at the absolute limit of the Turn 3 hairpin.

The #2 car on the outside was almost wheel-to-wheel with the #5 car on the inside. Kari was slightly ahead at the exit.

But immediately following was the difficult, S-shaped Turn 4 hairpin!

From one hairpin to another, the low-speed control hit the slow-motion button on the high-speed race.

Clearly, the #2 car on the outside didn’t force the speed. Instead, he held the racing line tight, sealing his position. Entering Turn 4, he naturally gained the inside advantage, pinning the #5 car on the outside.

Time stood still.

Like running on a high wire, Kai hugged the apex of Turn 4, eating away the disadvantage, poking his nose ahead, and exiting first. A tap of the throttle, and he shot forward.

But it wasn’t over.

Turn 4 (low speed left) leads into Turn 5 (medium speed left).

Kai didn’t relax. He defended the inside line fiercely, braking late again, using the full arc of the Turn 5 inside line to block the path, forcing Kari to take the long way around. After the bloody defensive battle, he showed his fangs for the counter-attack.

Exit. Straight.

Throttle to the floor. Maximum speed!

The crowd held its breath. They could see the #2 car, with its broken nose, wobbling and teetering like it was driving on ice, maintained only by speed and inertia. A single slip would mean disintegration. But Kai controlled it.

Miraculously, he controlled it. He turned into a streak of red-and-black light, releasing all his speed on the Wellington Straight.

Kari couldn’t react in time. The gap opened up visibly. Before he could blink, two car lengths separated them. The turbulent air rushed into the gap, dragging Kari’s heart into the abyss.

”Unbelievable!”

In the commentary booth, Croft exploded.

”He held it! Kai Zhizhou impossibly held the position! How did he do that?!”

But Croft had no time to think. The track was changing instantly.

Kari had no time for regret. In his mirrors, he saw Russell, lurking and ready, closing in fast. Cold sweat broke out instantly.

In the complex of Turns 3, 4, and 5, Kari had gone all-in on Kai. After the failed attack, he had lost his line. Russell, the predator, seized the chance, latching on, ready to pass.

From offense to defense. The opponent switched from Kai to Russell in the blink of an eye.

Kari yanked the wheel left, switching lines to block Russell, preparing to defend into the Turn 6 left-hander.

Behind him, Russell was laser-focused.

He wasn’t helping Kai. He was fighting for himself. A chance to pass Kari, maybe even Kai? Only a fool wouldn’t try.

His goal was the podium!

”Beautiful defense!” Borreipaire finally exhaled as Kai cleared the high-speed Turn 8.

”George is attacking Niko. Niko has no time for you. Hold the line.”

”Received.”

Back and forth, not giving an inch. The glint of steel filled the air as attack and defense swapped. Silverstone was engulfed in a scorching storm.

Who expected the Sprint Race to reach such a thrilling climax near the end?

Final Lap!

Kai, Kari, and Russell were still nose-to-tail, all within a second of each other, a high-speed train. The suspense held until the very end. Before the finish line, the order could still be completely reshuffled.

Heart-stopping. Tense. Croft’s palms were sweating. He never expected a GP3 Sprint Race to be this intense.

More thrilling than a roller coaster.

Thousands of eyes fixed on the finish line.

Aitken crossed first. Alesi followed.

But no one cheered. No one cared. All eyes were glued to the horizon behind them.

Then, the first figure appeared out of Turn 18

”Kai Zhizhou!”

Croft roared, punching the air, jumping up uncontrollably, his voice drowned out by the cheers of the main grandstand.

”Kai! Kai! Oh, God!”

”He held the position! Withstanding wave after wave of attacks from Kari and Russell in the final two laps, he stubbornly held his ground and finished!”

”Kai! Kari! Russell! Crossing the line one after another!”

”Unbelievable! Breathtaking!”

”Kai Zhizhou has delivered another magnificent race!”

Teetering, precarious, hanging by a thread.

But he did it.

He crossed the line third.

Kari and Russell followed closely.

Kai led Kari by 0.663 seconds. Kari led Russell by 0.578 seconds.

A game of millimeters. A podium finish in both the Feature and Sprint races for the third consecutive weekend!

However, this wasn’t the final result.

After the race, the stewards issued a penalty.

After investigation, Alesi was found guilty of causing a collision and defending dangerously. 10-second time penalty.

So, Kai, who had crossed the line 2.112 seconds behind Alesi, was promoted one spot.

2nd Place.

Kari moved up to 3rd. Russell to 4th.

In other words, ART missed sweeping the podium by Russell’s 0.578 seconds. The paddock buzzed with amazement.

”The FIA has made the call. Let’s look at the replay of that game-changing moment.”

Croft and Brundle analyzed the crash.

”From the slow-motion replay, Kai’s attack was clean. He found the opportunity, set the trap, and struck at the right time.”

”Undoubtedly, the racing line belonged to Kai. He had the inside, held the apex, and his front wheel was ahead of Alesi’s rear wheel. Textbook overtake. Kai did nothing wrong.”

”Alesi was not calm or rational enough. He could have fought back in Turn 16 or 17, but he refused to lose the position. The responsibility for this collision lies entirely with Alesi. I think the FIA made the right call.”

Not just the booth, but the stands and the pit lane were debating the crash. The heat was just beginning.

Borreipaire’s tight nerves finally relaxed. The garage, having gone from despair to survival, was full of relief. Everyone hugged and high-fived.

Borreipaire collapsed onto his desk, weak, gasping for air.

When the crash happened, he had almost given up. But Kai hadn’t.

In the crisis, Kai had saved the race. Borreipaire looked at his trembling hands and laughed.

Back in the pit lane, the first thing Kai did wasn’t find Borreipaire. He found the sweating Russell in the crowd.

”George!” Kai called out.

Russell stopped and looked at Kai, his expression distant.

Kai smiled. ”Relax, I’m not going to hug you.”

Russell cracked a dry joke. ”Good. We agree. British people don’t like hugging.”

Kai paused. ”Thank you. Thanks for the help.”

No explanations, no nonsense. Just sincerity. Kai knew that without Russell’s pressure on Kari, he might not have held the position.

Russell was stunned. ”No need. I drive for ART. I contribute to the team.”

He paused, then clarified. ”I was trying to pass Kari. If I had the chance, I would have passed you, too. I wouldn’t have shown mercy.”

Kai could taste the stubbornness of youth. His smile widened. ”I know. But thanks anyway.”

Kai turned and walked away.

Russell stared at his back, mumbling something, but didn’t speak up. He straightened his back and walked away, head held high.

Buzz, buzz.

The paddock was noisy.

It was different from the Feature Race, but similar. Everyone knew Kai’s winning streak couldn’t last forever. The Sprint Race existed to create chaos. But no one expected it to end in such a regrettable way.

A 100% accident.

However, seeing the ”Kai Myth” pause didn’t bring the expected joy to his detractors. Instead, there was a sense of pity.

Just like Leclerc in Baku, missing the double win by a hair is always poignant. The history-making moment was within reach, only to slip away like this.

Sighs. Regret.

But after the sighs, admiration and wonder rose up, stronger than ever.

”He was so close. Just that little bit.”

”Incredible. He almost did it. If not for Alesi’s brain-dead foul, no one could have stopped him.”

”This is Michael Jordan treatment. Fouling him is the only way to stop him.”

”Defending with a broken front wing for two laps? Masterclass.”

”His handling of the crisis was eye-opening. Where is the ’Baby Driver’ now?”

Imagine: starting P8, fighting to P2, almost taking the lead.

Imagine: suffering a collision, driving a damaged car, yet forcefully suppressing the rivals behind him. Showing calm courage in a desperate situation. It was more dazzling than a victory.

Imagine: Alesi sacrificing himself to stop Kai, only to finish P9 with the penalty, out of the points. Meanwhile, Kai took a solid P2, securing another 1-2 finish for ART.

Crisis can be the start of disaster, or the spark for brilliance.

The more dangerous, chaotic, and extreme the situation, the more it tests the real metal. This was something you couldn’t see in practice or the simulator.

Silverstone’s Sprint Race showed another side of Kai. This was his essence, more persuasive than any words, more valuable than any win.

As the GP3 weekend concluded, the paddock boiled over.

Alesi took off his helmet, furious. He had just been chewed out by his team principal over the radio.

How? How could it be my fault? How could they give me 10 seconds?

Rigged! It must be rigged!

The team had told him they wouldn’t appeal. The penalty was correct. Kai had the line. Alesi’s cutback was irrational and caused the accident. That was why he was being scolded he had cost Trident points.

But Alesi didn’t hear that. He only had one thought: Kai ruined my race.

”Ah!”

He smashed his helmet on the ground.

He saw the cars parked in parc fermé. 1, 2, 3. His anger exploded. He stormed over, grabbed the ”2nd Place” board in front of Kai’s car, and threw it aside.

Ignoring the stunned ART staff, he turned and saw Kai wiping off sweat.

Snap.

Alesi lost it. He got in Kai’s face, a twisted smile on his lips.

”Hehe, how does it feel? Knocked silly? Scared trembling? I’m a bit strong, just endure it.”

”Cry if you want. No one will laugh. First time for everything. Get hit a few more times and you’ll get used to it.”

Vicious. Sharp. Baring his fangs.

Alesi was sick of Kai’s pretentious act. He wanted to provoke him, to show everyone Kai’s true face in public.

But Alesi was disappointed.

Kai wasn’t angry. He raised an eyebrow, a smile spilling from his eyes. ”That’s it?”

Alesi choked.

Kai shrugged lightly. ”Honestly, I’m a little disappointed. You should have hit me harder. Either don’t do it, or finish the job. Doing it half-assed like this... it’s not manly at all.”

Kai looked Alesi up and down, effortlessly, his tone full of pity. ”Heh. Turns out, not just anyone can be Max Verstappen.”

Critical Hit.

Alesi hated Verstappen the most. Both ”second generation” drivers, but Verstappen crushed him at every turn.

”You’re the Verstappen... Fuck!” Alesi exploded, screaming profanities in English, French, and Italian, losing all reason.

He punched the air, roared, and stormed off, afraid he might do something he couldn’t control.

Kai stood there like an innocent lamb, drinking water. Only after Alesi left did he walk away, unhurriedly.

Clearly, this was a race no one expected. And this was a Kai no one had seen before.

The crowd was stunned.

Then, a voice broke the silence from outside the fence, clear and energetic, cracking the humid heat.

”Kai! Amazing race!”

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

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