Formula 1: The GOAT

A hush fell over the observers in the grandstand, quickly broken by murmurs that escalated into exclamations of disbelief.

“God damn! Did you see that?!”

“Oh my god! He’s unbelievable!”

“He is so good!”

“Is this really his first time participating in a championship?!”

“He did that on a wet track?!”

“His slowest lap time is over three seconds faster than Jackson’s fastest! Damn!”

Selçuk sat motionless, his face pale, listening to the cacophony of praise directed at Fatih. He glanced at his father, who was still fixated on the track, his eyes glued to Fatih’s kart. His father hadn’t spoken or even looked at him for the past ten minutes, making Selçuk wonder what thoughts were swirling in Amir’s mind. He lowered his head again, biting his teeth in frustration.

“Who is he?” Amir’s voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding.

“He is Fa—” Selçuk started, about to offer an excuse, but he realized the question wasn’t directed at him. His father was looking at Adam, Selçuk’s teacher, who was sitting at the next table.

“He is Fatih, our new scholarship student,” Adam answered.

“New? Scholarship student?” Amir asked, surprise lacing his tone, unsure which detail shocked him more.

“Yes, this marks the start of his fourth month in the academy, and yes, he has the academy’s full scholarship,” Adam confirmed.

“Three months? Did he transfer from another academy?”

“No. From what I know, this is his first academy. He’s only five years old,” Adam said, allowing a slight dramatic pause before delivering the last part, a subtle flicker of pride in the academy’s student.

“Five years old?! Are you kidding me?!” Amir exclaimed, turning his head to stare at Selçuk for a moment, then back to his wife, Fatma. “Three months of training compared to three years, Fatma! Do you see the difference in talent now?”

Adam, sensing the turn in conversation, quickly interjected. “Mr. Amir, I think he only improved so significantly – the three-second gap – because the track had dried and rubbered in from Group A’s free practice. He had an advantage there. I think it would have been even better for your son had he been in Group B.” Adam realized Amir’s questioning wasn’t coming from satisfaction about a chassis he sponsored being in P1; it was rooted in deep dissatisfaction with his own son’s performance, even in equal machinery.

“He would still have been behind Jackson anyway,” Amir scoffed, slumping back in his chair with a sigh of disappointment. He then added, a frustrated edge to his voice, “I supplied the best chassis, going so far as to sponsor the whole academy, and rented the tracks in the championship a week before the race to get the feel ahead of everyone! But he’s still behind a five-year-old kid?!”

“Enough, Amir!” Fatma, his wife, cut in sharply, not wanting her husband to further shatter Selçuk’s already fragile confidence.

“Are you going to tell me this is still about the learning curve?!” Amir retorted, unwilling to be silenced. “Three months compared to three years? How long does his learning curve need to be before you accept he has no talent in motorsport?!”

“But he is your son, Amir! And you don’t have enough information about this other kid!” Fatma argued, pushing her chair closer to Selçuk and covering his ears with her hands. Selçuk couldn’t bring himself to raise his head.

“That’s precisely why I’m being critical!” Amir shot back, looking directly at Selçuk, who was now fiddling with his fingernails, head still lowered. “He needs to come to terms with this faster if he’s to start looking for something he’s actually good at and not waste any more time.”

“But I’m sure the entry age requirement was six. How did a five-year-old even get in?” Amir turned and asked Adam, before his wife could retort.

“The regulations allow for those who turn six within the duration of the championship season to participate, provided they have the proper license,” Adam explained, scratching his head. He knew that the more he answered, the more sour Amir would become, but he had no choice.

“How the heck did he—”

…….

While that tense conversation unfolded, Rümeysa could be seen jumping, clapping her hands with a wide, radiant smile. She was incredibly happy that her son, despite it being his first time in a championship, was already showcasing such undeniable talent.

Güldane shared her daughter’s joy, but due to her age, she couldn’t muster the energy to jump. All she did was stand and clap, their enthusiastic celebration attracting the attention of other parents and attendees in their vicinity. They didn’t care; they celebrated Fatih’s stellar performance as if he had just won the race, not merely a free practice session.

As for Burak, who had been with them throughout the free practice session, he had returned to the pit lane about a minute ago as the session neared its end.

……

[MISSION COMPLETED!!!!!]

[Aquaman (Good) Unlocked]

Fatih, completing a final cool-down lap, finally saw the System prompt. He had successfully completed the [Rain Mastery] mission after more than nine months of relentless effort. The new ability, Aquaman (Good), had immediately gone into effect on his final hot lap of the session, which was nearly two seconds faster than his previous best!

Thanks to Invictus (Ultimate), his senses didn’t improve, but his level of dexterity and control on wet surfaces had dramatically increased. He could now not only keep everything even more on edge but could estimate the grip level in real-time. Nine out of ten times, he was right, and when he wasn’t, his guess was only slightly off the actual estimate, making significant mistakes far rarer.

He was the last driver to complete the cool-down lap and return to the pit lane. Only then did he realize that nearly everyone in the paddock was looking at him.

“You really went out there and made everyone wary of you,” Burak said, extending his hand and pulling Fatih out of the kart before beginning his inspection.

“It’s my first time on this track, so I needed to try and see what the limits are, didn’t I? Isn’t that what free practice means?” Fatih replied, offering a half-truth. While it was a legitimate reason, the primary motivation had been completing the [Rain Mastery] mission, and there was no need for anyone to know about that.

“I can’t argue with that logic,” Burak chuckled, raising the kart onto its stand. They then started dragging it back to their academy garage tent as the final Group C was finally allowed entry onto the track.

There were a total of sixty participants in the championshipndivided in thre groups A, B & C, but in the Final race, only forty will compete. The bottom thirty drivers will be eliminated following qualifying. Those eliminated drivers will then get an opportunity to mount a comeback by participating in a Pre-Final race, with the top ten finishers in it recovering and being able to participate in the Final round with the rest.

“Any setup changes you want for Free Practice 2?” Burak asked.

“No, the current setup is good enough,” Fatih said, knowing that only a few minor changes were possible on a Bambino kart. If it had been the KF1 kart, significant adjustments would be possible, but with his current kart, the basic setup Burak had created (factoring in Fatih’s body weight and ballast to meet the minimum weight) was perfectly fine.

“If there are no changes, then we can place the kart and head back to your family and wait there with them, okay?” Burak said as they entered the academy’s garage tent.

……

Group C’s free practice went ahead without much problem, and their times improved even more than Group A’s average times as the track was nearing dry conditions. But despite that, no one even got close to Fatih’s fastest lap. Jackson only improved on his time in Group A’s Free Practice 2 by more than five seconds, thanks to the track now being completely dry.

But before Jackson could smile, believing he was now leading with the fastest lap of a session, Fatih went ahead and once again set the fastest lap of any group in FP2: [P1 – #213 Fatih Y – FP2 – Lap Time: 01:19.937]. It was a time over two seconds faster than anyone else in the entire session, proving that his earlier FP1 time was no fluke.

Championship participants who had been watching all this unfold felt a massive wall being erected by Fatih. This feeling intensified for those in the combined FP2 time session, who had come here hoping to win the race, preparing to fight against Jackson, only for a new and even bigger monster to appear who made Jackson look beatable.

As for Selçuk, if he could have sabotaged Fatih’s car, he probably would have. He once again had to listen to his father’s words of disappointment, despite currently being third overall in both FP1 and FP2 times. Normally, that would have been enough for his father, but not now, when someone from the same academy, on the same chassis, but with even less experience, was leading his son by more than two seconds. As a child desperately wanting his father’s approval, Selçuk’s simmering hate was now fully directed at the one acting as a dam to that affection: Fatih.