My Formula 1 System

Chapter 262: The Madman In Austria. 2



Aldo attained P3 in the qualifying session before the race, so he sat on the second row of the grid as all twenty drivers lined up, shimmering under the bright Austrian sky.

He gripped his wheel tighter as he studied the drivers and cars before him, his visor helping him mellow the bright atmosphere.

César Albano of Outback Performance was at pole, followed by Louis Hartmann of Velox Hispania, ready to put on a performance in his teammate's absence, substituted by another younger driver.

"...Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Spielberg! The Austrian Grand Prix is just moments away, and what a grid we have today...!"

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!"

The grid girls had long been removed from the sport, but the pre-race ceremonies remained elaborate. Back then, every Grand Prix felt like... a World Cup match, and this was what the FIA was trying to recreate in Luca's own era.

Aldo sat calmly in his Ferrari, staring out to the track that awaited them with 50 Laps, trying to zero down his focus. But he was unsuccessful.

He tried to feel numb, but he couldn't. He could feel it. He could feel the ThunderKat's rumble like an earthquake that unsettled no one else but him.

Even from its raw power while idle, anyone could tell it was illicit and unforgiving. The only High-Intensity Combustion Engine on track, a secret only a handful within Nevada knew about.

It was a weapon that could tear through the grid if wielded properly… or destroy everything if mishandled. It wasn't FIA-approved, wasn't meant to be here. But here it was.

**Let's keep comms clear**

"Copy," Aldo replied.

**Copy** Georg, at P6, responded. From his position, he could only stare at Aldo's gearbox, waiting to see how he'd launch out of his grid box once the lights went out.

One of the ThunderKat HiCE's special features was its grid bursts—mind-blowing grid bursts.

Mr. Schafer considered asking for a radio check but thought better of it. Instead, he moved to his viewing post, sitting down calmly.

Even though Aldo had said "just once," Schafer had a strong feeling he'd ask to drive the Tipo with the Super engine again in the next race if today went well.

But then, too much high performance would lead to suspicion and investigation. Aldo just had to top the standings this afternoon for both the team and himself.

He glanced to his right, looking up at the suites above the Nevada garage and paddock.

His sharp eyes allowed him to see the figures behind the glass walls clearly, or maybe it was just because he already knew who would be there.
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Many among them supported the ongoing misconduct, while some were against it.

For example, Mr. Almansa, the one who had finally accepted Aldo's plea but added those strict clauses, sat there watching.

To his right, Marchetti—a young man who could have been a Formula driver himself—was completely against it. He wore a deep frown, staring at Aldo as if he knew Aldo was looking back at him.

"...Aldo Rennick—an enigma of the paddock. A driver who has never been one to shy away from a fight. And with Georg Nygaard beside him, Nevada HanSama has both their cars in prime positions...!"

"...Drivers, we are five minutes from lights out. Five minutes...!"

It was the fact that he had involved his family in this. That was why he had to be victorious today with the ThunderKat.

If he wasn't—if something happened to him on the track—then everything would unfold exactly as agreed. Nevada, his agent, the loaners, and everybody waiting like vultures would tear through his wealth and assets the moment he was gone.

Luca, his son, wouldn't inherit a damn thing except the mess Aldo had left behind. His family would be left with nothing.

That was the cost of this gamble.

Aldo had surely ran mad when he decided this, because even when he glanced to the stands where he was certain Cecilia, his wife and kids were at, he still didn't feel a pang of doubt.

The red lights disappeared and Aldo shot forward, shocking the world as he took P1 at Turn 1.

The car felt like a wild beast he could barely restrain as it buckled and trembled whenever he accelerated, fighting against his control.

Even though he had practiced with it in training, he still struggled to keep the Ferrari stable. But at the very least, he was pulling away from his rivals!

Owen was surely watching him climb to the top of the standings effortlessly! It was worth it!

Aldo did his best not to think about anything else but what took precedence, which was keeping control. The excessive torque tried twisting the chassis from the inside, forcing Aldo to continuously counter-steer and counter-steer.

At some point, he felt like he was correcting and not driving, and the car was simply moving by itself.

All HiCEs have special traits, and the ThunderKat 2.0, had an unstable, self-reinforcing feedback loop. The more aggressive Aldo drove (Aldo corrected), the stronger the surges became, as though the engine learned from his inputs and responded by escalating its power delivery.

It fed off his racing instincts, rewarding his audacity with speed but punishing hesitation with unpredictability.

Aldo couldn't really slow down now. He had to keep pushing and he was slowly passing the speed limit of the standards that time.

Sweat beaded on Aldo's forehead despite the cool air blasting through his helmet. He took another corner, the car trembling under him. This was just the 7th Lap! Madness. Sheer madness!

Aldo wondered if he could continue. He had 15 seconds on P2. That was unheard of. The commentators were losing their minds. The crowd was deafening. Luca was cheering in the stands louder than ever before.

But Aldo was at his limit. No driver had ever handled this kind of power before. The HiCE's relentless force was crushing his body, his muscles screamed, and his vision blurred. The wheel was getting heavier, too heavy. And his breathing was shallow.

He fought to press the radio button. "I can't continue!"

The response from the engineers was immediate.

**He can't continue! Pit time! Box, Aldo, box!**

"...and it seems after a stunning lead, Aldo Rennick has pushed that Ferrari so much he needs to visit the pits..!"

The pit lane was just ahead. A little more. Just a little—

BANG.

The car snapped sideways, fire bursting through the sidepod. Aldo's head slammed back, his body flung against the cockpit walls.

He couldn't see. Heat, smoke and the stench of burning fuel engulfed.

Aldo was burnt within ten seconds and the crash that followed served no real damage.

"...RED FLAG! RED FLAG!"


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