My Formula 1 System-Chapter 227: Italian Mega Prix. 9

From the start of the race, Mr. Marchetti had been rather... bored, uninterested, and absent-minded, focused only on the outcome and the final results. His eyes were on the track, but he paid little attention to every movement made by the drivers, unlike every other spectator who studied even the slightest twitch of the tires.

That changed the moment Luca activated Sync Buff.

The shift was instant and undeniable. Luca’s presence on the track sharpened, his movements became more fluid, his car cutting through the air with newfound intensity.

Mr. Marchetti sat up, intrigued. His boredom vanished as curiosity took hold.

"Set up a timer," he ordered his assistant beside him. He wanted to get to the bottom of this sudden burst of performance by Luca, especially since the doping tests had come out negative.

Reaching for one of the exclusive suite tablets, Mr. Marchetti accessed the real-time telemetry feed. These tablets were streamlined, real-time versions provided by race control for VIPs.

They were not as detailed or sophisticated as the full FIA telemetry honed by teams in their respective garages. Instead, they only displayed simple and essential data, even for the dumb likes of Dan to understand.

Essential data like: Current speed, Sector times, Throttle and brake inputs, and Energy deployment.

Compared to the vast chunks of data in full telemetry—such as tire temperature readings, g-force readings, ERS and DRS deployment, fuel consumption rates, etc.—this didn’t seem like much.

But it was more than enough to tell the difference in Luca’s driving after activating Sync Buff.

For example, in the 13th lap, Luca had struggled to dogfight with Aaronson through the turns, barely able to find an opening. But now, their duel didn’t even last two seconds.

The moment Luca surged onto the home straight, the Sync Buff-infused Slipstream Mastery latched onto Aaronson’s car like a grappling hook, reeling Luca forward with a massive burst of speed. His Dallara rocketed down the straight, the engine screaming as he closed the gap in mere moments.

By the time they approached Turn 1, Luca was already alongside. Aaronson instinctively squeezed left, trying to deny him the inside, but Luca was having none of it. He braked later, harder, and with pinpoint accuracy, forcing his car into the tightest part of the corner while still carrying insane momentum.

Aaronson, caught off guard, hesitated for just a fraction of a second. But that was all Luca needed.

Through Turn 2, his front wing was fully ahead, and as they entered Turn 3, his rear tires sealed the overtake. Aaronson was now behind.

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[Speed Boosted!]

[Speed Boosted!]

[Speed Boosted!]

[31st Lap]

[Track Span Analysis: 7.5 meters wide (limited maneuverability due to barriers)]

[Optimal Racing Line Calculated: 5.2 meters]

[Car Width: 1.9 meters]

[Margin for Error: 2.3 meters]

**Yes! Great driving, Luca!**

[5th Position]

[You have 2 min. 50 sec left for Sync Buff]

"...Luca Rennick sorpassa Sean Aaronson...!"

"...Rennick in P5, Aaronson in P6!"

"WOOOOHH!"

Mr. Marchetti could see Luca wasn’t done yet. The boy was on a mission to leave the midfield and top the leaderboard in mere minutes.

[32nd Lap]

Derstappen was in P4, now acutely aware of Luca’s approach after he overtook Aaronson in the last lap. Aaronson was still sulking and bitter, powerless as he watched Luca create gap after gap, moving toward his next prey.

[Analyzing 6th Position’s distance from host and Dallara (F2 04)...]

[6th Position is 1.5 sec away, host.]

[Reanalyzing...]

[6th Position is 2 sec away, host.]

[Reanalyzing...]

[6th Position is 2.5 sec away, host.]

[Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host’s distance from 4th Position]

[You are 1 seconds away, host.]

Luca’s Dallara tore through the air, closing in on Derstappen terrifyingly. Derstappen had lost P3 to Max just as he was making an effort to reclaim lost position during their pit stop.

The Dutchman braced himself as Luca approached, setting up his own chassis to match the aggression and calculation. He reacted by subtly shifting his racing line to defend, planning to make things difficult for Luca.

But from Mr. Marchetti’s perspective, Luca had no intention of wasting time. He had Sync Buff active, and he was going to use every last second of it.

Approaching the braking zone for Turn 5 after making it through Curva Grande, Luca made his move.

With Side-by-Side King still active, he forced his car into the narrowest of gaps, squeezing himself alongside Derstappen at the last second.

"WOOOOHH!"

As Mr. Marchetti suspected—just like every other time Luca suddenly became perfect on track—he hardly ever applied the brakes when driving.

"...into Turn 6! Rennick holds his ground, squeezing in to snatch the position from Derstappen!"

"WOOOOHH!"

Going from worrying about the turns to becoming unbothered by them was surprising.

The tablet in Mr. Marchetti’s hands finally showed a signal of braking, but it was merely a trail brake from Luca. He did it to keep his car stable due to the aggressive entry he had dove into the duel with. The grip held, his tires biting into the asphalt, and as he rotated through the corner, his front wing pulled ahead.

Mr. Marchetti realized it wasn’t just a simple brake for stabilization but an overtake maneuver!

Derstappen tried to counter at the exit of Turn 6, but Luca was already clear.

"...Luca Rennick sorpassa Albert Derstappen!"

"....Rennick in P4, Derstappen in P5!"

"WOOOOHH!"

[4th Position]

[Overtaking Skill +1]

[Ding!]

[Power-up failed!]

[Sync Bar is currently being used]

"...Ma attenzione! Rennick is not lifting! Could he go for Max in a row?!"

[You have 1 min. 15 sec left for Sync Buff]

[Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host’s distance from 3rd Position]

[You are 1 seconds away, host.]

"...If Luca Rennick times this right, he could jump from P5 to P3 in the span of just two corners...!"

Mr. Marchetti focused more intently than he had at any point since the race began.

If Luca managed to overtake Max—thus passing all three of Formula 2’s elite drivers in a single sequence—then something was undeniably up with the boy.

His sharp eyes followed the live feed, but his hands remained on the tablet, scanning the data. Luca’s unnatural level of precision wasn’t a surprise anymore.

After the French Grand Prix, Spanish Grand Prix, British Grand Prix, and every other race where Luca’s Sync Buff activation had left its mark, witnessing spectacular speed fluctuations, throttle modulation, and braking force had become routine for Mr. Marchetti.

Whenever he wanted to decode what made Luca’s performance so extraordinary, this was the method he relied on.

Back on the track, Max was no fool, he had taken notice. He saw what happened to Aaronson, then Derstappen. He knew Luca was coming.

Yet even with that knowledge, he could do little to stop it.

The lap was closing in, and Max Addams, the reigning F2 champion was set to lose a podium spot to his top rival this year.

"WOOOOHH!"

Mr. Marchetti watched as Luca approached, his car still carrying the excess momentum from his overtake on Derstappen.

Max was determined not to be a sitting duck, so he defended aggressively, shifting to the inside as they approached the final sector.

But Luca had intelligently predicted it with Intelligence at 50.

Instead of challenging directly, he adjusted his line ever so slightly, hanging wider through the previous corner to maximize his exit speed.

**Commit, Luca!**

By the time they reached the back straight, Luca was locked in.

[Slipstream Engaged]

[Speed Boosted]

Luca felt the g-force hit him like a moving train, but he responded with so much strength, he endured the pain, transforming it into drive and momentum.

[33rd Lap]

[You have 50 sec left for Sync Buff]

"Oh, damn. It won’t be enough for P1!"

[Analyzing Dallara (F2 04) and host’s distance from 3rd Position]

[You are 0.5 seconds away, host.]

At least, he could make it into P3 with what’s left, and lead his rivals in this race. So, Luca gripped his wheel tighter to make the last seconds count, and overtake Max who seemed to be proving stubborn.

Max made that annoying defensive stance again, placing his car dead center on the track. A bold move, forcing Luca to commit either way.

"Hmmm." Luca feinted right.

Instantly, Max’s eyes sparkled with a glint and he quickly took the bait, thinking Luca had planned to commit there. It was just a slight lean in response, but it was enough for Luca to capitalize on.

Luca snapped left with 50 Agility, diving down the inside in such a spectacular way as if their entire duel was rehearsed.

Max, realizing his mistake, slammed the brakes late in desperation, but Luca had already committed.

Their wheels came within inches, and Side-by-Side King at 50 began to work optimally.

"...Rennick goes for it!"

"WOOOOHH!"

The apex of the final turn was approaching. Max was still there, refusing to yield, refusing to be overtaking, resisting the influence of Side-by-Side King to the extent he gritted his teeth and grew watery eyes.

Luca had the inside line after taking the left earlier, so he dove into it without a second care of its steepness, knowing fully well that 50 Agility would help him swerve out of any trouble.

Max was still clinging on, but he had no space left to counter, and the track structure inevitably tucked him behind Luca, successfully switching their positions, successfully changing the leaderboard in the 33rd Lap.

"...LUCA RENNICK SORPASSA MAX ADDAMS!!!"

"WOOOOHH!"

"...Rennick in P3! Addams in P4!" Continue reading stories on novelbuddy

[3rd Position]

**Yes! Simply lovely, Luca!**

"...THE TOP TWO IN THE DRIVER’S STANDINGS JUST TRADED PLACES! WAS THAT THE MOMENT THAT DECIDED THE CHAMPIONSHIP?!"

"....RENNICK IN P3! MAX ADDAMS DOWN TO P4!"

"WOOOOHH!"

"....These two have been at each other’s throats all year, Steve, trading victories, battling for every point. But with this move, Luca has just taken one giant step toward the championship both for himself and for Trampos!"

Luca slowly felt the energy of the Sync Buff gradually leave him just as he focused on Taubert’s Dallara in the distance. The chants of Trampos were familiar, and he could hear every word being echoed.

[Sync Buff has elapsed!]

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

When Mr. Marchetti saw that Luca had mellowed down a little and wasn’t pouncing his way to Benjamin Taubert like he did to Aaronson, Derstappen, and Max, he looked down at the tablet in his hands.

The readings and data displayed reasonable values for a driver competing in a high-stakes race and on a high-stakes circuit.

Mr. Marchetti glanced at his assistant. "Time?"

"Approximately three minutes, thirty seconds, sir," the assistant answered.

Mr. Marchetti slowly relaxed in his seat, unbothered by the groans and scoffs of disdain and disapproval in his suite upon Luca’s overtake on Max.

He sat motionless, pondering Luca and his chances of making it to F1. There was once a Rennick in Formula 1, and he had never been good fortune for Mr. Marchetti, so he expected Luca to be nothing less.