My Formula 1 System
Chapter 15 My First Single-seater

DAY 4-6

[SYSTEM ONLINE]

Luca was relieved to replace that the meal provided at Grey-Husson's was closely aligned with his dietary needs, even surpassing them in some ways. It fit well within the System's recommendations. Following Harry's lead, Luca integrated his Daily Routine with the mandatory morning activities required of all participants.

After a refreshing bath, he made his way to the locker room, where his racing suit awaited.

As he stepped into the training hub's locker room, Luca noticed several other participants—all young men like him—preparing for the day. Their well-defined physiques took him by surprise; they looked like seasoned athletes. I can't believe how capable these guys look. Mallow said the age span here is 18-24. Damn, I might be the youngest one.

He found his locker, marked "31," and tried to ignore the curious glances from the others. Quietly, he asked Harry, who was struggling to pull his racing suit over his head, "How old are you?"

Harry's voice came out muffled as he wrestled with the suit, "Twenty, why?"

"Just curious," Luca replied softly, pulling out his own racing suit. It was a sleek, form-fitting ensemble, primarily black with bold accents of deep blue and silver. It was plain though, devoid of any sponsors and alliances, only designed with the letter G. "I'm eighteen, by the way—just turned five months ago," he added, as he started to don the suit.

Harry finally managed to pull his head free from the suit and bit his lip, nodding toward Luca. "No wonder you haven't touched a wheel yet," he muttered, signaling Luca to follow him as the others began to move out. The other participants didn't seem too interested in engaging with each other, sticking to their small groups.

Luca realized that the 31 participants—originally thought to be 30—came from different regional circuits and a few, like Miles, through private applications. Since both he and Harry were hailed from Stadhaven, their pairing made sense amid this diversity.

He swiftly donned his suit, zipping it up smoothly and completing his look with matching sneakers.

As the sunrise illuminated Grey-Husson's Academy, the 31 participants, all dressed and ready, stepped out of the facility. An air of slight competition already crackled among them as they approached a track, where the Chief Instructor and other Training Managers awaited.

From the corner of his eye, Luca saw Miles striding with confidence, casting a pointed glance his way. In fact, the entire group seemed to be eyeing each other, each participant mentally sizing up potential competitors.

As they approached the track, Luca's gaze wandered over the vast expanse, taking in the surrounding beauty. He noticed a significant number of spectators gathered in one of the grandstands. Squinting, he recognized Mr. Mallow among them, alongside what appeared to be the spouses and friends of some competitors.

One of the Training Managers stood beside Mr. Schafer and began speaking, his tone authoritative. "As you know, boys, this is Day 4," he announced. Luca guessed he held a high position within the facility, given his proximity to Schafer. "Today through to Day 6, we'll have our first elimination phase, where we filter out the worst from the bad.

As far as I'm concerned, none of you are good enough, but you're still acceptable. This is the timed laps and technique test. Each of you will engage in timed laps to gauge your raw driving skills across different sectors of the circuit. We'll be focusing on technical aspects: cornering, braking, and acceleration."

The atmosphere dropped quiet for a moment before Mr. Schafer continued from where he stopped. "We will not be judging you on speed, but on precision, and the penalties will be issued for hitting cones, overshooting corners, or excessive braking. The two participants with the most penalties will make use of the gate instantly. I hope you understand?"

With no one responding, Mr. Schafer nodded, the weight of his years apparent in the slow, deliberate movement. He gestured to the stands, indicating the area reserved for participants, as three racers would take on the course at a time. Luca's attention was drawn to the far end of the track, where thirty-one single-seaters stood in a pristine row, their sleek frames gleaming under the morning sun.

They're even more stunning up close, he thought, savoring the sight.

He joined the others heading toward the stands, pushing himself to get closer to the single-seaters. His gaze locked onto his own car, instantly recognizable by the bold number 31 emblazoned on its sleek chassis. The car was a striking black and red, with a touch of white along the edges—Luca's favorite colors for an F1 car.

He wondered if it was coincidence or fate that it matched his taste so perfectly.

They all climbed up to the stands and settled into their seats. Luca found himself next to Harry, having been forced to abandon the spot he had originally claimed after being chased off by a group of boys. He considered arguing back but decided against it; engaging with them seemed futile.

After all, he reasoned, they were just academics—not racers yet—with nothing to show for themselves. Raising his voice over a mere seat felt beneath him, an unnecessary distraction and attraction of attention from the staff, who might blacklist him.

As he watched Numbers 1, 2, and 3 receive their helmets and gear, Luca felt a rush of excitement. The sight of the cars being brought closer by a towing vehicle made his heart race. The participants climbed into their cockpits with a boldness that Luca both admired and envied, as he imagined himself in their place.

When they were ready to begin, Mr. Schafer signaled for a horn to be blown. The sound cut through the air, and the three F1 cars surged forward, gradually picking up speed as they raced down the track.

The sound of machinery made Luca's body twitch with excitement, eager to hop into his own single-seater. Unfortunately, he would be the last to race due to his number. But this had its advantages; he could learn from the mistakes of others before his turn.

The sparse cheers from the far end of the stands caught his attention. He realized it was the families and friends of the three boys now racing, there to cheer them on. The cars sped through the track at a steady pace, weaving through cones with precision. After navigating a series of curves, they disappeared from view.

Luca glanced up at the TV mounted by the commentary box, wondering if this circuit was still used for seasonal events. The cameras captured the cars from multiple angles, allowing him to study their movements and visualize his own strategy for the laps to come.

From their movements, Luca could easily distinguish the participants from professional racers, even those in the Formula 3 division. Nonetheless, their control and ability to navigate the sharp bends were surprising, even though they hit a fair number of cones.

The timing was set at 2 minutes for two laps in this precision test, and eventually, the three racers completed their run and returned to the base.

With results to be announced after the sixth day, Mr. Schafer congratulated the boys as they emerged from their single-seaters, looking slightly disoriented. A tow truck took away their cars and brought forth those belonging to Numbers 4, 5, and 6.

Miles was Number 4. He flashed Luca a boastful grin before accepting his helmet and climbing into his sleek purple single-seater, alongside the other two competitors. The staff helped strapped them in effectively.

The same horn sounded, and the three cars zoomed off at a steady pace. Luca was genuinely surprised by Miles's driving skills. It seemed as though he had been training for racing his entire life. Luca kept track of the cones hit, noting that Miles tallied up to eleven, while the previous group had hit over twenty cones.

The Training Manager, who had addressed them earlier, gave Miles an approving pat on the back when he and the other two returned to base, with his girlfriend cheering loudly for him.

This process continued for the remaining participants until it was time for Luca's set. He had enjoyed watching Harry, Number 22, behind the wheel, who seemed quite good despite hitting 14 cones.

Finally, the moment Luca had been waiting for arrived as his single-seater was towed to the back of Number 30's. The three participants were called out, and he quickly sprang to his feet, sizing up the other two.

Although this particular task wasn't directly competitive, it certainly felt that way, as everyone was eager to hit fewer cones than their counterparts, especially those they were paired with.

"Fucking extra," Number 30 spat at Luca before adjusting his helmet over his head.

Luca accepted his helmet from a staff member, pointedly ignoring the insult as he secured the red and black helmet onto his head. He couldn't believe how much it felt like he was becoming a real, sleek F1 racer.

As he approached his single-seater, he paused—not out of nerves, but because the Formula 1 System rang loudly in his mind, projecting a digital screen before him in the darkness of his helmet.

[VEHICLE BEFORE HOST HAS BEEN DETECTED...]

[ANALYZING VEHICLE'S DATA]

[Vehicle's status generating...]

[... Generation complete]

[Vehicle Specifications:

Brand: Renault

Model: R.S.11

Engine Type: RZ-12 Hybrid Power Unit

Weight: 640 kg ]

[Performance Metrics:

Top Speed: 300 km/h (0 km/h)

Acceleration: 3.5 sec

Max Power: 700 HP

Aerodynamic Efficiency: 1.5 ]

[Operational Status:

Fuel Level: 80%

Tire Condition: Used (Moderate)

Telemetry Status: Active

DRS Availability: Not Engaged ]

Wow, Luca thought out loud. "I had no idea you could do this! This is awesome!"

[Indeed, host. I can provide accurate data for F1 cars in close proximity. This System indirectly connects you to the vehicle. Please enter your first single-seater, and let's begin.]

Taking a deep breath, Luca carefully opened the narrow cockpit by lifting the top canopy with smooth precision, revealing the red seat gleaming under the bright, late morning sun. Looks very comfortable, Luca thought with a grin as he placed his right foot on the lower edge of the side pod.

He then slid into the seat, tucking his knees close to his chest as he focused his gaze on the steering wheel before him.

The Grey-Husson's staff helped strap him tight to the seat.

The steering wheel resembled a game pad, exactly how Luca had imagined it would look and feel. It had an oval shape and was integrated with numerous buttons and switches that he caressed with his gloved thumb. Their uses and functions were familiar to him, even though he had never been inside a single-seater before.

He felt the paddle shifters behind the wheel with his index fingers, designed to allow the driver seamless acceleration and deceleration without needing to remove their hands from the wheel.

[In order not to fully obstruct your view of the track, host, I can also make the System accessible on the digital display of the wheel as well.]

[SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]

[SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]

[Host is now synced with Renault (R.S.11)]

Sweet. Luca started the car by pressing the button labeled ENGAGE on the wheel, and the engine calmly roared to life. Vibrations surged through the chassis and up his spine in a relaxing manner. Taking a deep breath, he awaited the sound of the horn, focusing on the back of Number 30's green car.

The world outside faded into a blur, everything narrowing down to the vision inside his helmet and the floating digital data of his system.

The horn cut through the air, prompting Luca to steady himself as he let Number 30 move first. He engaged the clutch with his left foot and selected first gear using the paddle shifter on the right. The rear tires squealed lightly as he released the clutch, gently pressing the accelerator.

The car promptly lunged forward at a steady pace, the asphalt rushing beneath him. Even with such slow, low acceleration, Luca felt a slight G-force push him back, but he managed to maintain as he slowly tilted his wheel to make the early bend, Number 29 and Number 30 bending before him already.

[Host is attempting a Racing Task]

[ANALYZING AND COLLECTING TRACKING DATA...]

[DATA COLLECTED]

[DATA DISPLAYED IN REAL-TIME:

-Car Speed: 15 km/h

-Heart Rate: 110 bpm

-Operational Status: 85% (Good)

-Breathing: Calm & Steady

-Distance covered: 50m

-Time: 15 sec ]

[This Racing Task will be a good method to help increase your pure racing skills, host. Attributes like Intelligence and Stamina are likely to be buffed every time you step into a single-seater.]

That's reasonable, Luca replied, making another careful bend and easily getting in touch with the vehicle. The steering wheel responded intuitively in his hands, the car's sleek frame moving in harmony with the dance of his body in the cockpit. It felt easy and physically demanding at the same time.

Moving at a steady pace, he had made three bends before spotting the cones laid out for the task. As he approached the first cone, he eased off the throttle and gently turned the wheel, feeling the car respond with precision and grip on the track. The R.S.11 glided through the first gap, its tires whispering against the asphalt.

Luca focused intently, his heart racing as he aligned the car for the next cone.

[First cone successfully navigated. Good control maintained, host.]

[Heart rate has increased by two beats.]

[You are moving at 12 km/h]

[Approaching second cone, host.]

Luca flexed his thumb and pressed down on the throttle, determined to reach the second cone swiftly. He spotted Number 30 ahead, having toppled a cone, and a grin tugged at his lips.

As he closed in, he eased off the throttle once again, deftly maneuvering the steering wheel to guide his tires through the tight turn. The roar of the car's engine filled his ears, but his focus remained locked on the rhythm as he felt the aerodynamic forces struggle against him.

Luca tightened his grip to gain full control as he approached the sharp bend where the cone was positioned. Why would they keep a cone here?! he cursed, tilting the wheel vigorously to escape the shaft of the cone. Just when he thought he had evaded the obstacle, he felt a jolt shoot through the car.

The sound of the impact echoed in his ears as the rear tire caught the edge of the cone, sending it skittering across the pavement.

"Great," Luca muttered, taking one glance behind him as he felt the impact reverberate through the chassis of his car. He returned his gaze straight ahead where his System didn't fail to show him that he had hit a cone. Focusing on the track, he pushed aside the frustration and felt a sense of relief seeing Number 30 topple four more cones.

With competition stirring within him, Luca decided to overtake Number 30, who had called him an Extra. The other racer was now disoriented after knocking down multiple cones. Without warning, Luca hit the accelerator, bypassing him in a blur of speed while making a sharp turn toward his seventeenth cone.

[Overtaking Skill used!]

[Overtaking Skill +1]

[SYNC BAR: [][][][] 12.5%]

Number 30 cursed under his breath as Luca's red and black single-seater advanced, tagging behind Number 29. The first lap of the task was coming to an end, and they swiftly passed the stands from which they had started, the cheers of Luca's opponent's family ringing in his ear, making him feel as if they were cheering for him.

So far, he had only toppled one cone and believed he would end with just that. "System? What's Sync Bar?" Luca asked as he carefully navigated through another cone, his hands getting accustomed to the gentle tilting of the wheel and the blurring of the world in his peripheral vision. His heart rate was stabilizing now.

[Sync Bar is a profound connection between you and your vehicle.]

[With every skill you execute perfectly, the Sync Bar increases until it maxes out at 100%. This 100% acts as energy that you can buff into the Performance Metrics of your car or the values of your Attributes.]

Fuck! Luca cursed as the front hood of his car hit another cone. The moment of slight befuddlement caused him to jam into his third cone throughout this task. But it didn't matter, because the two-minute timing was closing in, and the three of them managed to complete the second lap and return to base, unharmed.

[Congratulations, host. You have completed a Racing Task issued to you.]

[You had an 85% Performance. Great job!]

Luca exhaled, finally removing his hands from the wheel as his engine hummed to silence. He opened the cockpit, revealing himself to expect applause, but everyone was stark quiet. Even the staff members who helped him out didn't offer congratulations.

How could they? He had the least number of cones hit, showcasing his pinpoint precision and accuracy throughout the task. Luca had even executed an overtaking maneuver when this wasn't even a competitive race. The silence from the stands was deafening, as if they had deliberately overlooked his impressive performance entirely.

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A/N: Hey, I feed on Powerstones for a living. Could you kindly give em? (+_+)