My Formula 1 System-Chapter 384: Pre-S2 British Grand Prix

Qualifiers Day.

On the day of qualifiers for the race, the drizzle followed through and painted Stadhaven with slickness. The entire atmosphere looked just like it had last year, as if that's how it had always been, for eternity.

The only differences were, of course, the new expansion that added an outer hairpin section and more beyond Turn 9, stretching the circuit to a total of 6km. Because of that, the race now had 55 laps to overcome instead of the previous 48.

[Generating track layout...]

[... successfully generated]

[

┌-T16-T17-T18---T1

T6-T7┐

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T8

└T15

T2–T3┐

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T4··T5

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└T14-T13-T12--T11--T10--------T9

...]

With so many newly added turns stretching beyond the usual cut from Turn 10 to Turn 17, Stadhaven's strategies had to account for frequent shifts in grip, increased tire degradation, and battling oversteer especially in the downhill sweep from T11 to T14.

Before the teams fully settled into their garages to begin preparing for P1, Luca had the confidence to walk up to Trampos and shake a few hands, just as many were doing all around the paddock, though of course, not with their direct rivals.

He took a deep breath and moved away from the Silver Stallions, his sneakers squelching on the wet pavement as he weaved through the bustling pit lane toward Trampos.

Luca knew he was loyal to Jackson Racing now, so he didn't plan to linger. He just wanted to shake hands with Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton, maybe say hello to Ansel and Haas if they were available, and offer a few encouraging words ahead of the qualifiers and race day too.

While Luca walked toward Trampos' garage, Mr. Pires, who had just taken his seat at the Overlook Suite, positioned above Jackson Racing's pitwall, caught sight of him. Adjusting his suit jacket with a precise tug at the lapel, he watched Luca closely, saying nothing.

When Luca arrived, he was glad to see Mr. Grant outside speaking and conversing with three marshals about the wet condition of the track.

As he arrived, he first greeted the marshals. Luca's body felt heavy once he was near Trampos' garage, as if there was a black hole around there threatening to suck him in. The aura was extremely uncanny, and Luca immediately felt uncomfortable. But he composed himself and greeted Mr. Grant, whom he noticed had grown a moustache.

Finally, some hair somewhere, Luca thought amusingly as he brought out his hand for a close handshake, the kind where warriors gripped each other's forearms instead.

Mr. Grant was so surprised to see Luca that his mouth fell open as he looked up at the towering young man who had suddenly appeared beside him.

After registering that it was indeed Luca, and realizing it was entirely possible for him to be here—that he hadn't vanished from life like he'd assumed—Mr. Grant closed his mouth and looked down at Luca's inviting handshake.

He took it firmly and tapped Luca on the shoulder.

Luca glanced briefly at the three marshals Mr. Grant had been speaking with, then nodded toward them.

"What are they saying about the drizzle?" he asked, brushing a few raindrops off his sleeve.

Mr. Grant exhaled through his nose and folded his arms. "Same thing as always. Track's damp, visibility's decent, but they're worried it might pick up again mid-qualifiers. Not enough to red flag, but enough to mess with grip."

Luca noticed Mr. Grant peer into his face. "Grip won't be a problem for you, will it?" Mr. Grant asked.

Luca laughed and bobbed his head in agreement. He waved to crew members that he recognized as they moved about their duties.

Mr. Grant glanced toward the far end of the circuit where the podium would stand by the end of the race on Sunday. His eyes lingered there for a moment before he spoke.

"I still remember last year's Grand Prix. It was your first race win in your career," he said. "Wet race. Same damn weather."

Luca had totally forgotten that the British GP last year had marked his first Grand Prix win. The realization reignited his hunger to win this year's, and the next, and the next, until he carved out a chain of dominance so defining they might one day nickname Stadhaven after him.

Luca lowered his eyes for a moment, his chest tightening with a quiet kind of pride. "That was a good day."

"One of our best," Mr. Grant nodded. "You flew past the others and had a dominant finish."

Just like Mr. Pires, Rodnick had also spotted Luca's figure in front of a rival's garage. His wrist had healed enough for him to be mobile again, so he was able to attend the qualifiers and could also attend the race in person instead of watching from home. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

He chuckled to himself, unable to believe what he saw—Luca walking over to Trampos' garage and engaging in more than a 15-second talk with their team principal.

In no time, as he continued to watch, another lady—who seemed to be the vice team principal—emerged from the garage and gave Luca a brief hug. So did three other crew members. Before long, Luca was having a full-blown conversation with Trampos.

Rodnick couldn't believe it. He couldn't hear what Luca was saying, but his body language was very loud. There were laughs, gestures, and pats on the back. This was a reunion in full form.

After a while of spectating, Rodnick nodded with some kind of deep understanding, as if he had just realized something. He smiled, and his eyes trailed Luca as he returned back to Jackson.

The person seated next to Rodnick was his agent, just like how Mallow was to Luca. He nudged Rodnick and asked him if he saw it all. There was nothing to the brief greeting, but Rodnick and his agent saw something deeper.

"Do you think he wants to return to Trampos?" his agent, Edward, asked once Luca had disappeared beneath the paddock tunnel.

Rodnick scoffed at the question and turned his gaze back to Trampos' garage, where the crew now seemed noticeably livelier since Luca's visit.

"Your question should be how can he return to Trampos," Rodnick said flatly. "Because from all you've seen—Luca's no true Stallion."