My Formula 1 System

Luca had no idea what to expect from his night on the yacht. He felt lost in the first minute of his arrival right after his invitation was audited and he was let in.

But after that minute, his eyes began to adjust from foreignness to recognition at the people around him.

He still felt lost, yes, in the sense that he was yet to meet his purpose on the yacht and not the fact that he was in the midst of people he didn't know.

Sixty percent of the faces he had seen so far, Luca sworn he had seen them elsewhere. Perhaps, in suites, grandstands, the tunnels or even the past dinner nights he had attended.

Many of Tuesday night's attendees were here as well for the Thursday night Crown Pearl. For example, Rodnick and his teammate were present, as was Hank Rice. Many regal gentlemen and women from the other night made it to the yacht.

It no longer felt entirely foreign to Luca, though he remained on the periphery. Settling in seemed like the next logical step, so he began with simple courtesies.

Greeting those near the entrance, he descended toward the ship's promenade, the wide-open dock area that stretched beneath rows of warm deck lights. The promenade offered a sweeping view of the surrounding waters and was already alive with conversation and laughter.

Luca heard an announcement that the yacht would be leaving the coast and heading into the sea for just an hour before returning back.

He moved further, engaging in brief conversations with people who recognized him as F2's Luca Rennick.

Pausing by the rail, Luca glanced over the edge of the yacht, where the distant horizon blurred into the inky darkness of the sea.

He took a deep breath, savoring the sight of the gentle waves kissing the hull of the yacht, the ocean stretching infinitely under the gentle glow of the evening lights. Adjusting his suit, Luca turned around, his shoes clicking against the polished wooden deck.

As his gaze swept across the open space encircled by the railings, his eyes caught something in the middle of the promenade, elevated on a lustrous, glass-lit platform.

"Wow," he murmured under his breath, his steps instinctually drawing him closer to the sight.

There, like a jewel displayed in the heart of the yacht, sat a single-seater... an F1 car to be specific.

Luca couldn't believe it.

The aerodynamic curves, the angles, sharpness, and the livery of the team all highlighted by the golden lights of the platform beneath and by the dock lights as well.

The sight was surreal for Luca because it was an unconventional setting for a beast like that to be in. And it seemed the other guests didn't find it fascinating as he did.

"Velocità," Luca murmured as he stepped closer, his gaze locked on the machine. Surely it was fine to approach, right? he thought, taking a quick cautious glance around him.

The F1 car was branded with Bueseno Velocità's livery. Just like their junior team, the senior team's major color was Royal blue. But Velocità Jnr only featured blue and white, while the senior team featured blue, silver and gold accents.

Luca began circling the car, his hands resting casually in his pockets, yet his sharp eyes inspected every detail. The scent of fresh carbon fiber and new rubber lingered in the air, that smell every driver recognized.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was just a display piece, or could the beauty actually run?

Luca knelt slightly, inspecting the undercarriage, and noticed the slight sheen of oil on a few exposed parts.

That could mean two things. The first indicator could be that the engine hadn't been drained for storage which meant the car roared not too long ago. It could also mean the engine was removed and the oil was a testimony of that.

Luca rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he studied the car. "No race number," he muttered. "Is this just a dormant car?"

He decided to request a full analysis from his system.

[System cannot proceed with this request.]

Luca frowned. "Explain."

[System detects a valid chassis and associated features,] the response came.

[However, it lacks a corresponding engine—a vital component for providing a complete analysis to host.]

Luca nodded. The engine was definitely removed. "But this car used a Red Bull engine, didn't it?"

[System is unable to confirm. The presence of the engine is required for accurate detection.]

[However, System detects the chassis as <Red Bull>.]

[System predicts the corresponding engine was likely a high-performance unit from <Red Bull> as well.]

Luca knew for sure Bueseno Velocità were with Red Bull just like how Squadra Corse were with Mercedes.

In Formula 1, Dallara chassis paired with a Mercedes engine were nowhere to be seen, highlighting the exclusivity of the sport's upper echelons. Only the top seven teams boasted unique combinations of chassis brands and engine suppliers.

Ferrari, however, stood out as an exception. They not only powered their own cars but also provided engines to both Jackson Racing and Nevada HanSama—two rival teams. How funny.

As Luca stood before the F1 car, lost in thought, he remained unaware of the two figures approaching him from behind. A couple, seemingly eager to speak with him, stopped a few paces away.
Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire

"Luca Rennick," the man called out, drawing Luca's attention.

Startled, Luca spun around and met their gaze. He instinctively extended his hand as the man stepped forward to shake it. "Nice to see you in person," the man said warmly, introducing himself and his wife. "I'm Nate Addams, and this is my wife, Claire."

As the handshake ended, Luca withdrew his hand, glancing between the two of them. There was a peculiar sense of familiarity in their features. His mind churned as he tried to place where he'd seen them before.

"Addams?" Luca asked, his brow furrowing slightly. "As in Max Addams' Addams?"

Claire let out a warm, jovial laugh, wrapping her hand around her husband's arm. "Yes, my dear, we're Maxwell's parents," she said, her eyes twinkling with pride.

No wonder they looked so familiar to Luca. Although he had never seen them before, he'd raced against a face born from their union!

"Ah, now I see it," Luca said, a smile breaking across his face. "No wonder you both looked so familiar."

He expressed his surprise and complimented them, remarking on how young they looked. Claire laughed again, clearly charmed by the remark, while Nate gave a modest smile.

"We saw you admiring the car," Mr. Addams said, his gaze shifting to the Red Bull on the platform. "A beautiful machine, isn't it? Though, completely useless without one critical component."

Luca turned to the car, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Actually, that could be said for all its components," he replied thoughtfully. "Wings, wheels, tires—take any of them away, and the engine you're talking about wouldn't mean much either."

Both Nate and Claire nodded, impressed. "That's a good point," Claire admitted with a soft laugh. "I suppose you'd know best. As a driver, you must really understand what's vital and what's not."

Luca gave a modest shrug. "I guess so. But I still hope to get myself into an F1 car's cockpit one day. Maybe the scale of importance for each part changes at that level."

Nate tilted his head, studying Luca's face. "Do you see yourself driving a Red Bull in the coming years?"

Luca turned to them, his cheeks warming as he chuckled nervously. "Maybe? I mean, it'd be amazing, but... I think Red Bull is Max's path, not mine."

They all laughed together, breaking the momentary tension. Nate clapped Luca on the shoulder with a friendly grin. "You'll both make it to the top, I'm sure of it. And when you do, you can keep crashing each other."

Their laughter grew louder, and Luca felt a wave of relief. He had half-expected Max Addams' parents to confront him, berating him for causing Max to crash in Solaris or for being a thorn in their son's side throughout the season. Instead, they were surprisingly laid-back—cool, even.

"Max isn't here?" Luca asked after the laughter subsided.

Claire shook her head. "He declined his invitation," she said. "He's still bummed about Saturday. But he did say he'd have his revenge on you."

"..."

Claire leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm not exaggerating," she added.

"Excuse me, Mr. Luca Rennick?" a voice called from the side. The three of them turned to see a well-dressed butler—or perhaps a sommelier—standing with impeccable posture.

"Yes, that's me," Luca replied.

"Mr. Kingston would like to see you, sir. He has requested to meet all plus-ones aboard the yacht."

A plus-one refers to a person who is invited as the guest of someone who received the main invitation.

Mr. Kingston? That had to be the owner of the yacht.

"If you'll kindly follow me," the man said with a polite bow, gesturing toward one of the entrances.

Claire gave Luca a reassuring smile and a small wave. "Don't worry, we'll catch up later," she said warmly.

Luca quickly turned to shake Mr. Addams' hand again before stepping away.

Luca followed the butler, his steps steady but his chest tightening as he took a very, very deep breath.