Henry woke up to the soft creak of the old ceiling fan spinning above him. A dim glow of sunlight filtered through the worn blinds of his room. His mind felt heavy, as though he were caught between two worlds his memories of a life that ended in regret and the surreal knowledge that he had been given another chance.
Then came the voice, clear and smooth like a calm broadcaster announcing a storm.
"Good morning, Henry Calder. The Racer's Edge System is now active. Let's turn potential into results."
Henry blinked. It wasn't a dream. The crash, the regret, the chance to rewrite it all, it was real.
The system continued.
"Today marks Day 1 of your journey to Formula One greatness. Don't mess it up."
"…Excuse me?" Henry muttered, sitting up on his creaky bed.
"Just keeping you accountable. Don't take it personally. I'm here to help, and help I shall, but you'll need to put in the work. Hard work builds champions."
Henry shook his head. "Alright, system, what's on the agenda?"
"Glad you asked. Here's your Daily Task List:
1. Reaction Drill (5 minutes).
2. Stamina Run (10 kilometers).
3. Advanced Vehicle Dynamics Quiz (Score 80% or higher)."
The system paused dramatically before continuing.
"Failure to complete these tasks will result in a penalty. And trust me, you won't like it."
Henry groaned. "A penalty? Really?"
"That's the deal. You push forward, or I push back. Think of me as your co-driver in this race to greatness tough but fair."
Henry dragged himself out of bed, the cold wooden floor biting at his feet. As he stretched, he caught a glimpse of the framed photo on his bedside table. It was old but precious a picture of his dad in his prime, holding a trophy aloft, grinning like a man who had conquered the world.
That was before the accident. Before the cane, the depression, and the quiet resentment that hung heavy in their home.
His chest tightened. He wasn't just racing for himself. This was for his dad, who'd lost his dream, for his mom, who worked two jobs to keep them afloat, and for Emily, his little sister, who deserved better than their crumbling house in rural Oklahoma.
"I won't mess this up," he muttered to himself as he headed out of his room.
In the kitchen, his mother stood by the stove, her diner uniform crisp but faded from years of wear. Her tired eyes lit up when she saw him.
"Morning, honey," she said, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast onto the table. "You've got that academy thing today, right?"
Henry nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. He hadn't told her about the tryouts. If he failed, he didn't want her to feel that disappointment too.
"It's just some training stuff," he said, forcing a casual tone.
His sister, Emily, darted into the kitchen and flopped into the chair beside him. "Are you gonna be famous one day, Henry?" she asked, her grin wide and full of innocence.
"Definitely," he replied, ruffling her hair. "You'll see."
Across the table, his dad sat quietly, staring into his coffee. His cane leaned against the wall, a silent reminder of what had been taken from him. Henry tried to catch his eye, but the older man remained distant, lost in thought.
"I'll make this right," Henry thought as he finished his breakfast and grabbed his bag.
The academy grounds were buzzing with activity when Henry arrived. Finding a quiet corner, he pulled out his phone, and the system sprang to life.
"Tap the lights as they flash. You've got 5 minutes. Try not to embarrass yourself."
Henry rolled his eyes but focused as the screen lit up. The first few flashes caught him off guard, his fingers missing the marks entirely.
"Sloppy start. You might want to focus, champ."
"Thanks for the encouragement," he muttered.
Halfway through, something clicked. His hands moved faster, his reflexes sharper. It was as if the lights were slowing down, though he knew that wasn't possible.
"Task Complete. Reaction Speed: Above Average. Reward: +1 Reaction Attribute Point."
"Not bad for my first try," Henry said, a small grin tugging at his lips.
"Not bad indeed. Let's hope you don't peak here, though."
The next task was grueling. His lungs burned, his legs felt like lead, and the academy's trail seemed endless.
"Pro tip: Pacing is key. You're not sprinting to the finish; you're building endurance. Find your rhythm."
The system's words felt condescending, but Henry gritted his teeth and kept going. By the 8th kilometer, he wanted to quit. But the image of his family his mom working late, his dad staring blankly at the TV, Emily's hopeful smile kept him moving.
When he finally finished, he collapsed onto the grass, gasping for air.
"Task Complete. Stamina Attribute: +2. New Skill Unlocked: Physical Endurance."
"Skill unlocked?" Henry asked between breaths.
"That's right. It's a baby step, but it'll make future runs less grueling. You're welcome."
He caught his breath before heading to the dorm for the last task. The quiz was tougher than he expected, filled with questions about cornering physics, tire degradation, and suspension tuning.
"Use your head, Henry. These concepts are the bread and butter of racing. Get it wrong, and you'll be eating dust."
His years as a fan gave him a solid foundation, but there were moments he had to guess. When he submitted the quiz, his heart pounded.
"Task Complete. Score: 85%. Reward: +1 Strategy Attribute Point."
He exhaled in relief.
"Decent work, rookie. You've got potential, but potential means squat without results. Remember that."
That night, Henry sat in his dorm, staring at the glowing interface the system displayed in his mind.
Attribute Value Remarks
Reaction 12 Good for an Academy driver.
Stamina 10 Room for improvement.
Strategy 9 Needs refinement under pressure.
Luck 6 Subtle but critical.
Focus 9 Strong foundation for growth.
He hovered over one skill:
"Advanced Cornering: Complete three races without a collision."
"Three clean races," he whispered. "I can do that."
The system chimed in with its usual flair.
"I admire the confidence. Just remember, the road to the top isn't straight, it's full of sharp turns. Get ready to tackle them."
For the first time, Henry smiled. It wasn't going to be easy, but he wouldn't have it any other way.