My Formula 1 System-Chapter 376: S2 Hungarian Grand Prix. 14

[55th Lap]

To

[60th Lap]

"...AND DAVIDE DiMARCO TAKES THE POSITION FROM LUCA RENNICK!"

"...It was clean, clinical, and done before the third sector—DiMarco read the temperatures, saw the window, and didn't hesitate..!"

[6th Position closing in]

"...The Ferrari just didn't have the tire grip to defend when it mattered... and with the RBioL's straight-line strength, it was always going to be a tough ask. Rennick defends his best, but Davide DiMarco was having none of it....!"

"Luca Rennick drops to P6... and DiMarco, his rival, storms up into fifth under the lights of a darkened Hungaro Ring! Into the top five goes both Velocità drivers...!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

P5— Davide DiMarco ↑

P6— Luca Rennick ↓

The dynamics and sheer complexity of Formula 1 still amazed Luca. He couldn't wrap his head around how quickly the leaderboard kept shifting and overturning again and again like there were no certainties. And this Hungarian Grand Prix had to be the most unpredictable while also the longest race of the season so far.

How could it be that Davide DiMarco—the same driver who had been screaming in frustration over the radio after a pit blunder sent him tumbling down the order—was now sitting comfortably in P5? Luca could clearly recall grinning to himself earlier when he saw DiMarco down in P7 while he was up in P2.

Now, looking at how things were lining up, DiMarco wasn't done climbing. He was tucked right behind his teammate Damgaard, and if Bueseno Velocità pulled what they were known for, DiMarco would be a podium contender once again!

Luca glanced at his race-changer—the Sync Bar—now filled to the brim and glowing with potential. But the moment felt uncertain. How long would it even last this time? There was no confirmed duration yet, and something about it made his gut twist. He wasn't feeling too optimistic about the result.

[Determining Sync Buff duration....]

[Processing: ▓▓▓▓1:45▓░░3:55░░░ 50%]

[Processing: ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓░░ 80%]

[Finalizing Sync Buff Time...]

[...Sync Buff duration determined!]

[Sync Buff Duration: 2 Minutes, 11 Seconds]

"Not bad."

At first glance, it wasn't a terrible figure. Not ideal, but not unusable either. Luca gave it a quick comparison in his head—2:11 versus the max 5 minutes. The gap was a little annoying, and he scoffed lightly. "Not bad nonetheless. I could deal with it."

Now on Lap 60 with just ten more to go, Luca quickly assessed how much of an impact this 2-minute boost could realistically have.

He immediately considered its relation to lap time. Hungaroring's average lap hovered around the 1:30 mark, and with Sync Buff enhancing car attributes like acceleration, braking, and tire responsiveness, he could shave off seconds—but only for a short burst.

After a brief calculation, he had his answer.

Two laps. That was all he had.

"...And there it is—..."

"..Jimmy Damgaard moves aside on the back straight... and Davide DiMarco swoops into P4...!"

"... WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

P3— Davide DiMarco ↑

P4— Jimmy Damgaard↓

"...Damgaard's no slouch, but DiMarco's got the fire right now, and with just under ten laps to go, Velocità clearly want their main man in the best possible position...!"

Luca wouldn't say he didn't see it coming. Of course Velocità was going to make the call. And now, just like that, DiMarco was in P3—a full podium position.

Technically, DiMarco had been P4 before grabbing P3, not P5 to P4 as one might assume, because Antonio Luigi had already taken his pitstop just before Lap 60. That single strategic call reshuffled the leaderboard for everyone—Luca included. He was bumped up to P5 in the process, and when Luigi returned to the track, he slotted back in P7.

It was an unexpected and, honestly, regrettable late stop from Squadra Corse. What made it stranger was that Marko Ignatova, their other driver, usually pitted after Luigi. But now, even past Lap 60, he was still out there on deteriorating tires, his grip fading, his car twitching, his lap times falling. His position was dangling by a thread even before he peeled off into the pits.

And once he did, it was like tradition kicked in and everyone jumped up a position while waiting for his reentry.

P1— Marko Ignatova →

[4th Position]

P1— Hank Rice ↑

P2— Davide DiMarco ↑

P3— Jimmy Damgaard ↑

P4— Luca Rennick ↑

P5— Ailbeart Moireach ↑

What truly baffled Luca though, was Hank Rice up in first. In an Iberia GP Audi of all things! That car wasn't supposed to sniff the top five. It was like Hank had climbed in silence, lurking beneath the radar. Only when he topped the leaderboard did the crowd and commentary finally take notice of the Englishman's quiet rise.

"...Hank Rice in P1...!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

"...All eyes now on Hank Rice for Iberia Grand Prix—can he hold it together in these final laps and pull off the most unexpected victory of the season...?"

Of course DiMarco was going to spoil Hank Rice's moment. Seated at P2 with the race nearing its end, there was no way he was going to tolerate an inferior chassis ahead of him. Not DiMarco.

The second he got into DRS range, he didn't hesitate—not even for a heartbeat. Hank's car was slower—significantly slower. We're talking a top speed of just 310km/h. Damn.

And when the overtake came, it wasn't clean. DiMarco brushed Hank's side pod hard. It was brutal and it sent a jolt through the chassis and a gasp through the grandstands.

Hank Rice gripped his wheel with both hands, knuckles white, trying to hold it steady. But there was nothing he could do. He slipped down to P2. Just like that, his fairytale run was over.

"...DAVIDE DIMARCO IN P1, HANK RICE IN P2...!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

P1— Davide DiMarco ↑

P2— Hank Rice ↓

"...Oh! It's a thrilling race in Budapest! THE BEST OF THE BEST! DAVIDE DIMARCO SITS AT THE TOP! BUESENO VELOCITÀ DOMINATES THE TOP THREE WITH LESS THAN TEN LAPS TO GO...!"

The circuit began its pre-podium celebrations. It was 7PM, and the sky over Hungaro Ring was already a deep, ethereal blue at the edges. The atmosphere was absolutely stunning because of this.

Colored smoke had just started swirling from various parts of the stands. Chants were louder. The crowd more alive. The energy electric.

P7— Marko Ignatova ←

Luigi didn't wait. His teammate had just exited the pits—cold tires, low grip—and he took full advantage.

P7— Antonio Luigi ↑

P8— Marko Ignatova ↓

The peak of F1 had just returned. Who would've thought Antonio Luigi and Marko Ignatova would be fighting outside the top five this late into the race? Both had started in P2 and P3 respectively!

Don't qualifying positions mean anything anymore?!

That was the question echoing through Squadra Corse's pit wall as they threw in everything they had to push their drivers forward. The paddocks were packed, the fluorescent-glowing pitlane buzzing with bodies—Team Principals, engineers, even reserve drivers—everyone had stepped out to witness the final zip under the darkened sky.

[62nd Lap]

[ACTIVATE SYNC BUFF?]

[Y / N]

Luca sucked in a deep breath. "Let's go."