Formula 1: The GOAT

The quiet hum of the computer fan was the only sound in the room. Fatih stared at the race weekend debrief, his eyes tracing the final calculation.

[FINAL CALCULATION]

Base Weekend Earnings: 112 SP

TOTAL SP GAINED: +112 SP

[Current System Points: 909 → 1021 SP]

He closed the system window with a quiet sigh. A victory was a victory, but the haul felt meager, almost hollow, compared to the jackpot from the first round. The path to upgrading his next ability stretched out before him, a long and arduous grind paved with single-digit rewards. This wasn’t sustainable. Not if he wanted to accelerate his growth.

His attention shifted to the other screen, the one displaying the fruits of his off-track labor. The numbers were staggering. His Facebook page had swelled to over twenty-five thousand followers, a vibrant community buzzing with discussion. Twitter was a similar story, a slightly smaller but more volatile ecosystem of eighteen thousand.

As he scrolled through the comments and replies, the patterns he’d noticed before had solidified into distinct factions. There were the Believers, the true fans who consumed his high-quality infographics and insightful analysis, content that was still a rarity in the officially sanctioned, media-shy world of Formula 1. Then came the Skeptics, a vocal minority who seemed to exist solely to poke holes in his predictions, their cynicism a constant, predictable drone.

And finally, there was the third, most crucial group, the Gamblers. They were nearly as numerous as the Believers and exponentially louder. Their comments were a chaotic mix of gratitude, greed, and nervous anticipation. They had already moved on from followers and were like clients, using his predictions to place bets and, more often than not, winning. They were a loyal, vocal, and highly motivated segment of his audience due to the earning potential from his posts.

A slow, calculating smile spread across Fatih’s face. They’re a large enough focus group, he thought. The proof of concept is complete. It’s time to move to the next phase.

He opened a new browser window, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

“What new scheme are you concocting this time?” Apollo’s voice materialized in the quiet room, laced with a familiar curiosity. “Your machinations off the track are becoming as fascinating as your driving on it.”

“I’m planning to turn this following into a steady stream of revenue,” Fatih said, his eyes fixed on the WordPress homepage.

“A detailed breakdown of your plan, if you would,” Apollo requested, his translucent form shimmering into existence, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. He leaned forward, an eager student ready for the master’s lecture. “I am curious.”

“Why not,” Fatih said with a grin. He opened a blank Word document, the blinking cursor a starting point for his new empire. It would serve as both a visual aid for his mentor and a foundational blueprint for his plan.

“I’ve spent the last few months building a reputation,” Fatih began, his voice taking on a clinical, strategic tone. “I’ve proven that a significant percentage of my predictions are accurate, and in return, I’ve accumulated a large, dedicated following, a substantial portion of which uses my information to gamble. I think it is time I benefit from their wagers and take a share of their winnings.”

“An ambitious goal for the current social media environment,” Apollo countered, playing devil’s advocate. “How do you propose to collect a ’share’ from anonymous individuals across the globe? You are a child with no access to conventional financial systems and who even wants to share their winnings in the first place.”

“That’s the beauty of it. I’m going to create an environment where they have no choice but to do so through something that will be commonplace in the future: a subscription service,” Fatih declared, pride evident in his voice. “I will offer premium information, a product they can use to win tens, if not hundreds, of times their investment. And they will pay me for it.”

“A viable solution,” Apollo conceded, nodding slowly. “I have seen their reactions. The gratitude is… fervent. They have already demonstrated a willingness to trust your insights with their own money.”

“Exactly. And with the evidence of my accuracy, I can create scarcity and demand. I will launch a service that provides the predictions hours ahead of time. The public predictions will still be posted, but they will be delayed until just ten minutes before each session. It will be too late to place most bets. This will incentivize anyone serious about winning to subscribe.”

“A clever manipulation of timelines. But the payment problem remains,” Apollo pressed. “How will you process these transactions if you don’t have a bank account?”

“I have already found the solution,” Fatih said, opening a new tab and navigating to the homepage of an E-gold service. “It’s a digital currency that is backed by precious metals and requires no personal identification, no connection to a bank account, and is accessible anywhere in the world. It’s nearly anonymous. I will set up a simple tipping jar. They deposit the required amount, and I grant them access to a private, invitation-only forum.”

“You’ve thought this through to a remarkable degree,” Apollo mused. “A flat entry fee, I presume?”

“No,” Fatih said, a sly smile touching his lips. “A tiered system. The more you pay, the more information you get, and the more money you can potentially make. It’s a win-win.”

He began typing in the Word document, outlining the structure.

Tier 1: The Enthusiast ($10 USD in E-gold per month)

Access to the password-protected section of the forum.

Predictions for the Top 3 race finishers, posted five hours before the race.

Basic analysis and reasoning for the predictions.

“This is the entry point,” Fatih explained. “For people to dip their toes in, to see that the information is legitimate before committing more, and most likely where the majority of subscribers will be.”

Tier 2: The Professional ($50 USD in E-gold per month)

Everything from Tier 1.

Expanded predictions for all Top 10 points finishers.

Top 5 qualifying predictions, delivered five hours before the session.

“This one is for the more serious gamblers and dedicated fans who want more actionable information.”

Tier 3: The VIP ($250 USD in E-gold per month)

Everything from Tier 2.

Access to an exclusive mailing list for instant updates.

Direct Q&A: Subscribers can email one question per race weekend for a detailed, personalized answer.

The ’Dark Horse’ Prediction: A high-risk, high-reward prediction for both qualifying and the race, identifying a potential upset with long odds.

“This tier is for the high-rollers,” Fatih said. “It will have a low volume, but the clients will be those willing to pay a significant premium for the absolute best information, the kind that can lead to massive payouts if it turns out to be correct.”

He also added a final category: a pay-per-race option, with slightly higher pro-rated fees of $5, $20, and $75 for each tier, respectively.

“This one might look cheap, but it also serves as another entry point for those who want to dip their toes in. If they choose to pay per race for the rest of the season, the amount I’ll earn from them will actually exceed what I get from the subscription group, since they’re paying a higher rate per race compared to the subscribers.”

“Wow,” Apollo said, the single word conveying a universe of impressed surprise. “That is… a remarkably comprehensive and viable business model.”

“But how will you manage it all?” the mentor asked, his analytical mind kicking back in. “You cannot create an automated subscription system with the tools available to you. The manual labor will be immense.”

“That’s where spreadsheets come in,” Fatih replied without missing a beat. “I’ll create an account for every new user and manually track their payments each month. If a payment is missed, I deactivate their account. For the VIP tier, they’ll include their email address in the E-gold payment statement, and I’ll add them to the mailing list. It will be difficult at the start, yes. But I will consider the money I earn as payment for my own labor. Once the revenue is stable, I can even hire people to make it easier.”

“And what will you do with this digital gold?” Apollo asked the final, logical question. “You cannot convert it to fiat currency without a bank account.”

“Oh, I have a plan for that already,” Fatih said, a triumphant glint in his eye. “And the timing couldn’t be more perfect.” He opened one last tab, a forum page he had visited many times before. The topic was Bitcoin. “I’m going to use the E-gold to buy Bitcoins through the forums. I will increase my accumulated amount now, for pennies on the dollar, long before any official exchanges open and the price skyrockets.”

“Haaa…” Apollo let out a long, slow breath, a sound of pure, unadulterated astonishment. He looked at the six-year-old boy, who was now calmly organizing his Word document, and saw not a child, but an architect. ’It seems the Selçuk situation has made him determined to accumulate as much money as possible, so that neither he nor his family ever ends up in that position again. But is that really a bad direction? The more money he has, the more freedom he’ll have to pursue what he loves without having to juggle politics. What an interesting coping mechanism,’ Apollo mused, satisfied that Fatih hadn’t just accepted the treatment they received, but had now begun implementing a strategy to avoid ever being vulnerable like that again. And all it took was experiencing that kind of situation once.