My Formula 1 System

"...Walding is too close for comfort of planning an overtake, which means Rennick might have to focus on defending his lane instead of weaving for an opening through Addams. The pack roars past the grid again, marking 43 laps and an hour and twenty minutes into this F2 Grand Prix. I can see a bend coming up that could be Rennick's chance to close the gap on Addams. The champion himself has navigated it already, chasing the young London prodigy who snatched P2 many laps ago...!"

[Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]

[Tire traction: 75%]

[Recommended speed for maneuver: 175 km/h]

"Thank you," Luca muttered, adjusting his engine output accordingly as his tires latched onto the track's curve. It was the familiar left-hander he had mastered over the last 43 laps, and this time was no exception. The blue street lighting illuminated the bend well, guiding his focus to the apex as the Corner Chopping instinct surged within him.

[5th Position closing in.]

"Oh, he's that close already?" Luca said aloud as he exited the bend with all steps implemented.

Walding's eyes were fixed on Luca's rear, determined to pull off an overtake in the same bend. But Luca's strategic hard braking during the apex caught Walding off-guard. Walding's reflexes kicked in as he rapidly decelerated and shifted slightly to the right. As they emerged from the curve, Luca's sudden burst of acceleration left his tires screeching and a trail of smoke clouding Walding's vision.

"...Rennick has pulled off that move not once, but three times in today's race. You can bet all teams will be studying that technique tonight. The gap has widened, and no one needs to tell him to surge ahead...!"

[Corner Chopping +1]

[SYNC BAR: [][][][] 75%]

[Ding!]

[Straightaway Chopping Skill Accumulating 3/3]

[Ding!]

[Host has learnt Corner Chopping Skill!]

[Ding!]

[You have unlocked a Skill:

-Straightaway Chopping: 2 ]

"Thank you, very much!" Luca exclaimed inwardly, a surge of satisfaction coursing through him. Now, with the ability to disclose his opponents at any point on the track, his strategic edge was sharper than ever—so long as he flawlessly executed the Chopping sibling skills. "Any specifics to Straightaway Chopping I should know about?" he asked, seeking full clarity while maintaining his pace on the straight. Walding's presence was still formidable, lingering close behind like a shadow.

[Retrieving Data on Straightaway Chopping...]

[...Data Retrieved]

[Execution of Straightaway Chopping:

–Approach the straightaway

–Position your vehicle for the optimal line

–Maintain control, balance and maximum speed with DRS

–Regulate opponent's speed

–Prepare for defensive positioning

–Brake suddenly upon 1-2secs of opponent behind you

–Capitalize on opponent's dissonance ]

Luca nodded as the data illuminated on his HUD. This was a skill he was already familiar with, yet the System's enhancements added a professional finesse to it. Straightaway Chopping was a form of aggressive, tactical defensive driving—designed to seize control while fending off opponents. By foreseeing a rival's overtaking attempt and aligning his car to obstruct their path, Luca would brake at a crucial instant, disrupting their momentum and throwing them off balance. Read new chapters at empire

A second's misjudgment and the technique could backfire, but Luca's instincts hummed with readiness. His grip on the wheel tightened as the roar of engines, the electric lights of Monte Carlo, and Walding's relentless pursuit merged into a symphony of intensity.

[You are moving at 300 km/h]

[47th lap]

[Next bend approaching]

Luca tilted his wheel to align with the track's curve, his eyes set on his side mirror as he noticed Walding conciously giving some space between him and Luca's Dallara–a measure to prevent being chopped again. "I see you're learning from your mistakes," Luca sneered. "You're probably planning on accelerating once we exit, huh? Too bad you have no idea I got both skills now. Just follow me."

Walding's black-and-blue car was still too distant for Luca's System to analyze fully, given the limitations of the Intermediate Bundle. This left Luca relying solely on his instincts to estimate Dani Walding's speed as they both came out of the bend.

**47th lap** Moritz's voice erupted over the radio. **How good is your car? Perfect for the rest?**

"Aye, sir," Luca answered, casting a quick glance at the borders of his System's display to double-check. "Everything is solid here."

**Excellent. Maintain that line**

The radio crackled and went silent, leaving Luca alone with the roar of engines and the electrifying pulse of the track. Addams was inching further out of reach, and with it, the podium. Luca had done everything right so far, his race strategies executed with precision. But the relentless pace of the competition was sapping his stamina. Mr. Grant would have to understand that today's battle was among the fiercest.

"...and out of the bend they go. Your prediction from a moment ago might be turning true, Jon. Walding's rear is exposed, and his back tires are roaring for traction. Rennick's in the middle lane! Can Dani Walding close in on his teammate and bolster Velocità's position...?"

Luca carefully eased off the throttle, and his car responded with a sudden, measured retardation.

"...Oh my! That was almost contact! Walding narrowly avoided clipping Rennick's rear! A quick reflex, indeed! Jon, do you think that was intentional...?"

"...No doubt, Steve. Just look at him. Rennick's gunning ahead, extending that gap after intentionally shrinking it. Walding's trying to recover control, searching for momentum. Steve, I dare you to ask again if that was intentional..."

[Straightaway Chopping +1]

"Booyah! C'mon, Let's go!"

**Brilliant move, Luca! You've shaken him off. That spot is yours now, defend it well**

[SYNC BAR: [][][][] 87.5%]

[You are gathering speed]

Luca couldn't help but grin non-stop as the notification for Straightaway Chopping +1 slowly faded away from his view, the Sync Bar glowing softly in anticipation to the upper left. Luca could tell he needed one more point to get that bad boy filled up.

[50th Lap]

[Stamina +1]

[DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:

-Car Speed: 290 km/h

-Heart Rate: 110 bpm

-Operational Status: 75% (Good)

-Breathing: Calm & Steady

-Distance covered: 180000 m

-Time: 1 hr 30 min. ]

"...with the final ten laps at play, we have the stewards and marshals sharper than ever, and I am pretty sure everyone is at the edge of their seat or even so, on their feet. The current leaderboard favors Trampos Racing with the most points, their best start to the season ever. Bueseno Velocità Jnr. would emerge with the next highest, and Squadra Jnr, with lesser but satisfactory points..."

"...there is more than enough gap between the drivers, and their paces seem all equal. It's a textbook harmony of engines here, and all we can do is watch and anticipate the leading pack. Can Bellingham snatch the glorious P1 from Hahn, and can Rennick do the impossible and deprive Addams of the podium? The 51st lap is underway...!"

Luca's focus on his wheel did not waver. His grip on the wheel was firm as he sped down the track, his tires searing and radiating heat. His eyes flicked repeatedly toward the Sync Bar, hoping to see it filled and suspecting the System might have missed an announcement. But still, there were only three bars lit.

[Tires are in satisfactory condition, host. Fuel level at 65%. DRS is now available. Engine temperature stable. Brake wear at 18%.]

[Telemetry reports smooth handling. Aerodynamic efficiency optimal. No pitstops are recommended. Host is capable of finishing the race with current Operational Status]

"That's not the notification I wanna hear," Luca muttered as he maneuvered through Street 4 bend with practiced precision. He tapped into the instincts ingrained by his Skills, each subtle move executed as if by second nature, each inch of the track taken like a calculated gamble. Addams' pulsing number 3 shone like a taunting beacon, feeding Luca's hunger for victory.

"...52nd lap, folks! Walding and Derstappen seem to be battling fiercely for that 5th place, but Walding looks like he's losing traction, and Derstappen could capitalize. Kristensen holds on to sixth, while Aaronson has dropped to seventh. Quite disappointing for Hatcherk Motorsport so far..."

Luca thought this might be how far he could go. But just at the 52nd lap, a swift notification swiped into his view, displaying a +1 to his Track Awareness. Luca's eyes lit up instantly, and his heart brimmed with joy.

[Track Awareness +1]

[SYNC BAR: [][][][] 100%]

[SYNC BAR COMPLETE]

[Host, Sync Buff can now be used]

"C'mon! C'mon! C'mon! Let's gooooooo!"

[ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]

[Y / N]

Luca nodded unhesitatingly and selected yes.

[INFUSING....]

[Strength: 13 »»»» 50

Stamina: 15 »»»» 50

Endurance: 17 »»»» 50

Agility: 12 »»»» 50

Intelligence: 14 »»»» 50 ]

[You can only select three skills]

[Reflexes/ Overtaking Skill/ Track Awareness/ Pitstop Prodigy/Corner Chopping/Straightaway Chopping]

Luca exhaled sharply, his mind narrowing as the options flashed before him. A dilemma lay ahead, one he needed to ponder carefully before making a decision. The race was far from over, and the pressure was mounting.

He knew his first pick immediately: Overtaking Skill. That was a no-brainer, essential for making his moves and gaining ground when it mattered most. Next, he focused on Reflexes. It would help him navigate through the track, reacting swiftly to any unexpected changes, without putting himself in danger. Finally, Straightaway Chopping seemed like the perfect way to hold his position after overtaking. He needed a skill that would let him keep rivals at bay during those high-speed moments on the straights.

His heart raced as he selected the three skills, each one sharpening his focus. The decision was made. Now, it was just time to execute.

[Successfully Selected!]

[Reflexes: 19 »»»» 50

Overtaking Skill: 20 »»»» 50

Straightaway Chopping: 3 »»»» 50 ]

[INFUSION SUCCESSFUL!]

[You have 4 min. 58 sec left for Sync Buff]

That familiar surge of energy coursed through Luca's veins as the System's interface lit up, igniting a new intensity within him. His senses sharpened, and every fiber of his being seemed to synchronize with the machine around him. The cockpit felt less like a confined space and more like an extension of his own body, a direct connection to the race unfolding.

Alright, let's do this, Luca said inwardly as he whipped through another bend, smoothly hitting the straight that marked the lap's end.

No longer needing to monitor his speed on the curves or worry about the crushing G-forces pressing against him, Luca's feet stayed firmly on the throttle. The engine screamed at the high RPM, its pitch cutting through the in-city circuit like a battle cry. The distance between him and Addams was closing fast, and the number on Addams' car shrank as he approached, gaining terrifying momentum.

"...I don't believe what I'm seeing! Rennick's machine is absolutely possessed! It's like he's tearing through reality! Addams moves to cover the inside for his defense—he's blocking—he's got no choice! But here comes Luca Rennick! Look at that momentum—he's still at full throttle...!"

Max Addams veered sharply, desperately trying to defend as the roar of Luca's engine frightened him. But with perfect confidence and exceeding limits of his mind and muscle, Luca slashed to the outside, threading through the smallest gap in Addams' defense like a hot knife through butter, his SomberCore shrieking as if taunting Max Addams' weakness.

**That's it, Luca! That's it, squeeze into that damn podium!**

[You are moving at 310 km/h]

"...oh my goodness, Jon. The young lad might be risking his own fate here. He's still accelerating even through bends. Not even a breath on the brake, he's a mazerunner out there..."

"...we can see Addams trying to cut back, but it's too late... and... there it is! Luca Rennick is already gone, and he's rocketing ahead..."

[3rd Position]

**Attaboy!**

[55th Lap]

Luca didn't have time to celebrate his ascent into P3, the black-and-golden Dallara of Miles Bellingham flashing just ahead, its number 2 teasing him like a prize just beyond reach.

The System, needless to calculate recommended speed for maneuver or analyze track structure, resorted to reading his data in nanoseconds as the interface gleamed with vibrant life around its corners.

[Congratulations!]

[Fastest Lap Attained!]

The world around him blurred, the cityscape at night a smudge of lights as he barreled down the straight, his car closing in on Miles with every second. His heightened Intelligence and Track Awareness were firing on all cylinders, guiding him through the turns as he prepared to close the final gap.

Luca's eyes darted, his vision zeroing in on the shimmering heat radiating from Miles's rear tires. The interface gleamed with clarity as it read the track's data, a symphony of numbers and lines that Luca barely needed to process, his instincts doing the heavy lifting.

[You are moving at 300 km/h]

Without easing off the throttle, Luca tilted early to the right.

Miles was alerted instantly, his nerves perking with fear as the ear-splitting roar of Luca's engine crept to his side.

The right-hander transitioned into a left-hander, giving Miles the upper hand to cut in from the inner lane. However, Luca, taking the outside line at an unrestrained speed, still managed to wrap around the curb earlier, his car holding steady.

[You have 10 seconds left for Sync Buff]

"...with unbelievable momentum from P4, Luca Rennick is challenging the might of Miles Bellingham! As they enter the left-hander, Rennick's taking the outside lane with relentless speed, and he's not backing down! Do not blink—the two cars are nearly rubbing paint...!"

Luca pushed past Miles. The audience roared. Mr. Moritz couldn't stop hollering.

[2nd Position]

[Sync Buff has elapsed!]

[SYNC BAR: [][][][] 0%]

[58th lap]

Though it was just five minutes, Luca had gotten used to the otherworldly Endurance and Strength. Once the Sync Buff left his body, a g-force struck him, and it hurt according to the value of his Endurance and Strength.

However, the adrenaline rushing through him masked out the pain as the euphoric display of "2nd Position" slowly faded away from his view, replaced by Ansel's car.

**You are marvellous, Luca! Han?! Han?!**

**Eh?**

**Luca's got your back, now! We got the race! We got the points!**

Ansel had to glance at his side mirror to be certain. His eyes widened with disbelief as the gleaming surface of a red-and-black Dallara designed with 'Fijee' on its frame trailed behind him as they made a bend.

**That's wonderful! How'd you do it?!**

Luca's breathing was heavy, Sync Buff akin to a doping medicine that took his breath away. He inhaled the musk air of his helmet sharply, his hands firmly on his wheel. "I just pushed hard," he replied to the radio.

**Keep your lane, boys! Trampos has this in the bag! We're ruling Monaco tonight, c'mon!**

[59th lap]n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"…with just one lap left after this! Trampos Racing is poised to redefine the word victory! Jon, you might want to keep making those predictions, because every time you do, the opposite seems to unfold! Rennick is calm on Hahn's tail, and you can bet Bellingham is fuming behind the wheel, desperate to reclaim that P2 position! It's the 60th lap, folks! I can barely sit still in my seat..!"

"…The pack has zipped through the grid once more, and it's one final lap around the stunning streets of Monte Carlo. Rennick can't let all his hard work go to waste now! Bellingham is right behind him, ready to pounce! Oh my! We don't want to see a potential P2 photo finish right now..."

Luca failed woefully when he took a heavy risk as he tried executing Corner Chopping at a certain bend. It impeccably cut down some of the gap between him and Miles. With the next and final straight approaching, Luca quickly plotted with Ansel, Miles's natural momentum being something they shouldn't toy with.

"RFS?" Luca suggested.

**Are you sure he would fall for it again?**

"Just bank adjacently, let that L form," Luca replied, his feet hovering near the brake. To his luck, Miles was close enough to have his Dallara analyzed, and it granted Luca all he needed to discern for an optimum Straightaway Chopping.

[Performance Metrics:

Top Speed: 300 km/h (300 km/h) (200—300km/h in the last five seconds) (20km/h each millisecond)

Acceleration: 3.5 sec (0—100km/h) (28.57 km/h per second)

Max Power: 620 HP

Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]

Luca braked.

Miles's eyes widened as he steered roughly to the right, his tires screeching into the night as he fought for traction with the immediate retardation. "Fuck!" he cursed in his helmet.

Luca flicked off the brake. "You're free to go," he said to Ansel, engaging DRS and moving his feet to the throttle all in a second. His car jerked in response, his back tires revving.

"...and Miles Bellingham is desperately trying to correct his overcorrection, but Luca Rennick is leaving him in the dust! Hahn is leading his teammate down the straight! Bellingham just can't keep up! Addams is a lap down! Trampos Racing—Trampos Racing has secured Monaco...!"

"....Ansel Hahn confidently claims first place…!"

"WOOOHHHH!" roared the audience in excitement.

"....Rennick crosses second for Trampos…!"

"WOOOHHHH!" the fans erupted once more.

"....and Bellingham makes the grid for third place..!"