German Grand Prix 3: Pressure On The Asphalt

[13th and 14th Positions closing in]

[Host has not unlocked Skills to evade a box]

Luca's heart pounded, and a surge of panic clawed at him. The screeching engines on either side of his car grew deafening, their noses creeping into his peripheral vision like predators closing in on prey.

**Hey, Luca, as you can see, you're in a tough spot there, heh? They've got you, and they're gonna get you good if you don't stay calm and focus on da wheel—da wheel alone**

Luca understood Moritz's words. Mr. Grant had drilled this into him during training, embedding the same boxing maneuver into Luca and Ansel's strategy for moments like this—when they needed to trap a rival and throw them into disarray. But understanding was one thing; executing it was another. Right now, Luca's mind was a battlefield—the thunderous roar of accelerating machines threatened to drown his thoughts, and the crowd's bloodthirsty cheers only added to the chaos.

**Keep your line steady. Look for a good gap and pick up the pace. If it gets too tight, make it up with the brakes. Better 15th than here with me, lad**

Luca took a deep breath and managed to rasp, "Roger," his voice hoarse from tension. His gaze darted to both sides, locking briefly with the helmeted stares of the two APX racers flanking him. Their cars, dressed in sleek green-and-black liveries, inched closer with every second, determined to box him in. They knew he was the rookie for Trampos, and to them, he seemed like he might be an easy mark.

The oppressive heat radiating from their engines pressed in on him, and the sheer pressure of the moment threw off the rhythm he'd carefully built throughout the race. The pulse of the crowd's excitement was palpable, further fraying his focus. He began wavering his thoughts between slipping back to fifteenth and salvage what he could, or stay with them, and trust fate to decide what came next.

Luca gripped the wheel harder and slammed the throttle, feeling the car respond with a surge of power. His speed skyrocketed, chewing up the straightway before the next turn. He was determined to punish the challengers, especially the one on his right, who'd be forced onto the outer slant of the bend. As the middle man, Luca would tilt sharply, leaving the APX driver with two brutal options: decelerate or skid and face the wrath of the grass.

The cunning plan lit a spark in Luca's heart, the weight of panic replaced by sheer determination. His mind cleared, and his fingers hovered eagerly over the steering wheel, itching to act. "Follow me, then," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as the bend loomed closer.

His car wedged tightly between the two opponents, surging forward with precision, every motion drawing gasps from the Bergwaldring Circuit crowd with the cameras on them. The three cars shot down the track in perfect alignment, their tires howling as they scraped the asphalt, their noses locked parallel like jousting knights. The turn was fast approaching, and Luca focused solely on the curve, shutting out the deafening roar of engines beside him.

[Analyzing optimal entry speed based on current velocity, tire traction, and curvature of the bend...]

[Tire traction: 78%]

[Recommended speed for maneuver: 160 km/h]

"Thank you," Luca whispered, adhering to the system's precision, trusting the calculated path the track had unveiled before him.

The origin of the bend approached. Luca gritted his teeth as he rounded the curve, his hands tightening on the wheel, determined to execute his plan flawlessly. The APX driver on his right was desperately holding his position, but Luca could feel the shift, the subtle tension in the car next to him. The track was narrowing as they approached the apex of the turn, and Luca knew this was his moment to strike.

He edged his car closer away from the teammate on the left, closing the gap between him and the teammate on the right ever so slightly. His heart pounded, but his focus was razor-sharp. As the APX driver tried to hold his line, Luca tilted his wheel just enough to push him further toward the outer track. The rival's tires were now dangerously edging into the safe zone, a thin strip of tarmac designed to keep cars from careening off the track entirely.

[Agility +1]

Luca's car leaned harder into the curve, his movements precise and calculated. The APX driver had no choice but to move, Luca forcing him into a position where the only escape was off the main track. 

The crowd roared as they watched the new duel unfold—two racers battling for dominance in a high-speed chess match. The APX car on his right wobbled, its tires momentarily losing grip as Luca continued to press him out. The exit of the curve was fast approaching, and Luca knew he had to commit now or risk losing his chance and position once a straightaway emerged.

**I see what you are doing, Luca. Squeeze the bastard out before that bend ends**

Luca listened to his engineer and leaned deeper into the bend, more aggressive now. His car clung tightly to the track, while the APX teammate on the right had no choice but to hold his line, unable to counter the developing squeeze.

With a sudden, forceful turn of the wheel, Luca tilted his car sharply into the curve, leaving the APX driver no room to react. The rival's car wobbled, its rear tires screeching as it skidded, struggling to maintain balance. The crowd gasped as the APX vehicle veered toward the outer edge of the track, nearly out of control.

"....oof! We can all say that we saw that coming heh? Sven has just taken a big blow right there, and I don't think his tires are friends with the track right now...!"

Luca exhaled with relief as the APX car's nose disappeared from his peripheral vision. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, catching the driver frantically trying to recover, possibly taking a line into the track once again, but it seemed too late—the disorientation had done its damage, and the lack of swerve power in tires on the outer track contributed to his dismay. With its tires fully on the grass, the car spun wildly, spraying dirt and debris across the edge of the track as the driver struggled to regain control and correct his trajectory.

The APX vehicle veered dangerously close to a metal pole near the barriers, narrowly missing it by inches. The back tires bounced violently, the suspension groaning under the strain, leaving the car teetering on the brink of a crash. The crowd erupted, gasps turning into cheers as the driver barely avoided disaster, managing to bring the skidding machine to a halt just shy of the pole.

"...and that's another driver down the leaderboard, Jon! At least Sven can recover—better than Volyinski earlier, that's for sure....Even yesterday's race didn't pack this much thrill..."

"...certainly. These young drivers are hungry—for the track, the trophy, and that next level. Some may regard F1 as the pinnacle of competition, but I'd have to argue F2 is far more dangerous. You can see the risks they make just to be eyes-worthy..."

"...bold words, Jon. And an even bolder move by the Trampos rookie, Luca Rennick, just 18 years old. We can officially call him a trickster today. An excellent performance..."

**You did well, Rennick. Make sure not to push too tight next time, heh?**

"Understood."

Luca kept his gaze locked on the road ahead, still holding 12th place as the 27th lap came to a close. Progress had been stagnant, with his efforts focused on defending his current position. On his left, the APX driver remained relentless, zooming alongside him, clearly itching to avenge his teammate's earlier misfortune.

[Intelligence +2]

[Endurance +1]

[Track Awareness +1]

[SYNC BAR: [][][][] 50%]

This can't load any faster, huh?! 

Just then, the driver ahead in 11th made a pit stop, pushing both Luca and the APX racer forward. Luca moved into 11th, while the APX opponent found himself slipping to 13th, having tailed Luca the entire way.

Navigating another tight curve, Luca managed to nose slightly ahead, the rhythm of their cars synchronized as they powered through the 28th and 29th laps, battling wheel-to-wheel.

**Tell me you're in tenth**

Luca shook his head reflexively, as if Ansel could see him. A pang of guilt gnawed at him—he knew he wasn't yet where he should be. He felt like he was letting Ansel down by not dominating the field the way Trampos Racing expected when he was signed. 

"I'm in tenth," Luca lied, hoping the truth would follow within moments if he executed his next moves perfectly.

**Good**

Ansel was sitting comfortably in 4th, a position to be proud of...at least. From the far horizon of the track, Luca could spot his teammate's number hovering with a glowing green to signify a Trampos driver, distinct from the opponents' blue numbers.

On the 30th lap, Luca finally found his opening to move into 10th. The rival driver had tried to squeeze him toward the grass, but Luca's Overtaking Skill kicked in, guiding him through the bend with precision. As he hit the straightway, Luca slammed the throttle and activated DRS.

The sudden force jerked his body, but this time, he didn't flinch like he had during his early days in a single-seater. His grip stayed firm, and every muscle responded in sync with the car's momentum.

Luca couldn't believe the Formula 1 System was really making him stronger for F1 racing!

[Strength +1]