Chapter 313
“…Unbelievable! What a turn of events here! DiMarco has taken out Luca in one of the most aggressive moves we’ve seen this season…!”
“…both cars are off track and into the barriers! The crowd is in shock, absolutely stunned by what’s just unfolded…!”
[Car Speed: 0km/h (Crashed)]
[Operational Status: 14% (Failure Imminent)]
“…This is one of the most controversial moments in racing! Did DiMarco go too far? Was it calculated, or was it reckless? We’ll have to wait and see what the stewards say, but right now, both drivers are out of the race and are even struggling to make it out of their cars…”
**Luca, stay where you are. Recovery team is out to get you**
After a brief pause, Mr. Berry glanced at his other engineers in the telemetry room and sighed. **I’m sorry, but we have to retire. Your race’s gone**
[Breathing: Drastically Spiked]
[Endurance +1]
Luca was well-trained in surviving crashes, his body instinctively reacting as his mind cleared the fog from the impact. His ears still rang, but his hands moved with purpose.
He reached for his HANS device and pulled it off. It was fascinating to see how his Blanche had stuck to his body because of the sudden deceleration.
Luca then pulled himself out of the cockpit, his system interface vanishing as the car-host link was instantly lost.
“…And that’s it! A shocking incident here in Shanghai! Both cars are out of the race, with Luca Rennick and Davide DiMarco involved in a collision that’s sent both drivers off-track. The race has taken an unexpected twist as two great drivers are now sidelined…!”
“…Red Flag in the 22nd Lap…!”
“WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!”
Luca almost didn’t realize he was on a track as hot as lava. Damgaard had long since zipped by, and now Moireach, in P12, was just rolling by, taking his time to inspect the wreckage with a huge smile on his face.
For Ailbeart Moireach, Davide DiMarco’s DNF meant less competition for him. And with Luca Rennick out too, things were even better.
Luca removed his helmet and gasped for air. The roar of the Shanghai International Circuit instantly filled his ears, as if he were at the center of a coliseum in ancient Greece.
Waving red flags filled his vision, both the real ones held by the marshals and the ones waved by the spectators in support of their crash.
Only then did Luca realize the full scale of the circuit, as he gawked at the sheer vastness and passion of Formula racing.
“…Red Flag in the 22nd Lap…!” the announcement called again.
P5— Luca Rennick ↓
P6— Davide DiMarco ↓
P7— ↓
P8— ↓
P9— ↓
P10— ↓
P11— ↓
P12— ↓
P13— ↓
Luca’s gaze then moved to his wrecked JRX-92B. His beloved machine had just been destroyed, the rear buckled and folded from the impact.
The sight of it made Luca drop his helmet. The helmet bounced across the asphalt and onto the racing line. As Yūichirō sped past, his right front tire kicked the helmet away, sending it skittering across the track.
The crowd roared even louder!
The loud screeching sound helped Luca recollect his memory of how the crash happened. He then looked at the other car glued to his own. Just as his rear was damaged, the Red Bull’s front was completely disheveled.
The nose was crumpled like paper and the right side of the front wing was torn off. Even the tires were twisted grotesquely. It was clear that the Red Bull had suffered just as much, if not more, from the collision.
And inside the cockpit sat the most placid individual currently in Shanghai. His hands were still confidently on the gamepad-looking wheel and his helmeted gaze had been long fixed on Luca even when he was exiting his cockpit.
When DiMarco finally grabbed Luca’s attention, he calmly unbuckled himself from his Red Bull and stood up without worry as if he hadn’t just suffered a DNF.
As soon as DiMarco’s feet touched the tarmac, Luca lunged forward. He quickly removed his balaclava like it was a skimask and approached DiMarco, meeting him face to helmet.
“You crashed me on purpose, you bastard!”
“WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!”
“…oh my, the tension is reaching a boiling point here in Shanghai…!”
“…LUCA RENNICK SQUARES OFF WITH DAVIDE DIMARCO…!”
Luca’s hair was a mess, but it didn’t hide the anger in his eyes. DiMarco could see the rage, and he was satisfied with himself for being successful this afternoon.
Mr. Matthews stood with his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the live footage of Luca storming toward DiMarco. His jaw was clenched, and he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for those near him to hear.
“He shouldn’t do anything more. I just lip-read an insult,” he said loudly to the entire team. “If he touches DiMarco, that’s a huge penalty. This can’t escalate, let’s get out there!”
Marshals were already at the scene, and since they saw Luca break DiMarco’s personal space, they rushed to separate them to prevent any swings.
Luca couldn’t even hear the crowd anymore, nor the announcement, or even the marshals telling him to step back. His focus was zeroed in on DiMarco’s visor.
Luca couldn’t say he didn’t see this crash coming. DiMarco had been giving him concerns right from the beginning.
“You know you crashed too, right?!” Luca spat at him, the marshals pulling him back. “Zero points for you still?! Who’s dumb here?!”
“WOOOOOOOOOOOHH!”
Finally, DiMarco removed his helmet and balaclava, revealing a very handsome, masculine face that could charm any woman.
He had blonde hair and hollow green eyes, a broad yet sharp jawline, and a natural frown for a mouth. His frown then turned into a smile as his cold eyes stared straight at Luca.
“Sure, you’re right,” he said proudly, tucking his helmet under his arm and claiming the stance of a knight. “This was just a stunt to educate a cretin like you. When I get my super engine, all lost points will be made up for.”