F1: The Speed Legend

The spotlight was completely fixed on Alexander Albon. The incessant murmurs and whispered judgments were impossible to ignore. Albon was getting a crash course in the intense, microscopic scrutiny that came with driving for one of the ’Big Three.’ The slightest rustle of grass was instantly magnified into a crashing tsunami.

Honestly, taking a step back and thinking about it rationally, eighth place wasn’t exactly a catastrophic result. After all, this was Albon’s very first time driving a Formula 1 car in an official session, and it was only Free Practice 1. There was absolutely no need to blow it out of proportion or panic.

The crucial detail was this: the gap between first place (Hamilton) and fifth place (Bottas) was a mere 0.217 seconds. They were all essentially operating on the exact same tier, practically neck-and-neck.

Sixth place belonged to Kimi Räikkönen, driving for the newly rebranded Alfa Romeo team. He was a full 1.267 seconds behind Hamilton. In other words, the gap between fifth and sixth place was over a full second.

It was a night-and-day difference. An absolute, insurmountable chasm separating the top tier from the midfield!

And then, looking at Albon down in ’eighth place’... the expressions and attitudes of the observers naturally became highly scrutinizing. The knowing glances exchanged in the paddock were loaded with unspoken meaning.

However, there was still no need to make a mountain out of a molehill. Who was to say Red Bull wasn’t simply copying Ferrari’s strategy from last season and deliberately hiding their true pace? After all, Horner had already executed exactly that kind of smokescreen during winter testing. It was entirely plausible that he was continuing that strategy now, deliberately assigning Albon an excessive number of mundane testing programs during FP1. Horner might be setting Albon up to play the fool just to drop a massive surprise during qualifying, exactly like Kai had done. That was absolutely something Horner would do.

Furthermore, it wasn’t just Red Bull. Every single team seemed to be holding back during FP1. After surviving the earth-shattering chaos and dramatic upsets of the 2018 season, every team had grown incredibly cautious—and highly ambitious—heading into the new year.

If a complete outsider like Kai, seemingly popping out of a rock, could achieve such a miraculous feat and plunge the mighty Mercedes-Benz into chaotic turmoil, why couldn’t they seize the opportunity to carve out their own bloody path to glory?

If Mercedes-Benz was vulnerable, why shouldn’t they be the ones to pull them down from the throne?

Red Bull was definitely thinking it, and the other teams were likely entertaining similar ambitions.

Therefore, looking at the FP1 timing sheets: Alfa Romeo’s Räikkönen was sixth, and Toro Rosso’s Kvyat was seventh. Both were ahead of Albon.

Racing Point’s Sebastian Vettel languished down in sixteenth, and Renault’s Daniel Ricciardo was seventeenth. The two veteran superstars whose off-season transfers had detonated the paddock were both stuck in seemingly miserable positions. But there was no need to be overly shocked; their gap to Räikkönen in sixth was within 0.4 seconds. They hadn’t been completely blown out of the water. It was still far too early to draw any definitive conclusions.

Perhaps Williams was the only genuine exception during FP1. Sergio Perez was a staggering 4.315 seconds behind Hamilton, and George Russell’s gap was over 5 seconds. They simply didn’t belong in the same category as the rest of the paddock.

While every other team was busy calculating how to seize opportunities and challenge for the championship, Williams was still literally trying to figure out how to build a functioning race car.

Clearly, the situation wasn’t simple. You couldn’t judge the battles in the paddock by looking at the surface-level timing sheets.

One highly critical detail: the two Red Bull drivers had completed 22 laps, and Mercedes-Benz had logged 26 laps. But Ferrari had only managed 16 laps total. Kai and Leclerc spent a massive chunk of the session parked in the garage. The bustling, crowded Ferrari pit box effectively blocked out all prying eyes, keeping their activities shrouded in secrecy.

Li Lingyu had her eyes glued to the Ferrari garage, her heart hanging in her throat. She forgot to breathe, her palms sweating nervously.

”Oh wow, this is intense! As expected from the ’Big Three,’ the gaps are incredibly tight! Looks like we’re in for another massive dogfight between Mercedes and Ferrari this year!”

”What are you talking about?! Ferrari is winning this!”

”Exactly! The gap between Kai and Hamilton’s fastest lap is only 0.038 seconds! Ferrari is definitely hiding their true pace. This is a massive smokescreen, they’re just waiting to drop the hammer in qualifying!”

The excited chatter buzzed around her, fans unable to contain their enthusiasm.

You didn’t even need to ask; these were 100% newly minted fans, likely drawn in entirely by Kai winning the World Championship. They were riding the hype wave and probably knew next to nothing about the actual mechanics and nuances of the sport.

—Yes, Ferrari was sandbagging. But Mercedes-Benz was just as likely to be sandbagging. The fastest lap times in Free Practice 1 had incredibly limited analytical value.

You didn’t have to look far for proof. Take 2018, for example: Hamilton secured pole position at the Australian Grand Prix with a blistering 1:21.164, setting a brand-new track record at Albert Park. Furthermore, when the season concluded, motorsport experts universally agreed that Hamilton’s qualifying lap in Melbourne was one of the greatest, most spectacular flying laps of the entire year, extracting absolutely 100% of the potential from both the driver and the machine.

And today?

Hamilton’s fastest lap in FP1 was a 1:23.599.

Compare the two numbers, and the answer is glaringly obvious. The data doesn’t lie; it is the most direct, efficient truth. You didn’t even need to use your brain; you could use your knees to figure out that they weren’t pushing anywhere near their limits.

The tension and anxiety surrounding the 2019 season opener were significantly higher than in previous years. You could feel the suffocating pressure radiating just from the atmosphere of Free Practice 1.

Right now, the Ferrari garage was incredibly busy, the engineers’ faces grim and severe. It wasn’t because the car was an absolute disaster; it was because the car simply wasn’t excellent enough.

If Ferrari intended to fight for the World Championship, their benchmark wasn’t Red Bull. It was Mercedes-Benz. They had to be the absolute pinnacle of the paddock. Because of this, they had to ruthlessly evaluate their newly designed car against the strictest, most uncompromising standards to set the necessary foundation for the long, grueling season ahead.

Li Lingyu took a deep breath, silently clenching her fists to cheer herself on. She had mentally prepared herself for this. The 2019 season was going to be incredibly challenging. Especially now that the sleeping dragon, Mercedes-Benz, had fully awakened and was on high alert. Ferrari and Kai were inevitably going to face significantly more brutal obstacles and complex problems.

So be it. Let the battle begin!

And the reality of the situation perfectly reflected that resolve—

On the surface, Ferrari and Mercedes-Benz appeared to be operating on the exact same level. Kai and Leclerc were both currently faster than Bottas. They seemingly had no reason to act as if they were facing an existential crisis.

However, only the wearer knows where the shoe pinches.

During FP1, both Kai and Leclerc had deliberately attempted to push near the limits. They both desperately needed to know exactly what this SF90 was capable of when forced to the absolute edge. Even though they weren’t executing true, 100% qualifying-sim flying laps, the actual data extracted from those push laps was deeply concerning.

Both Ferraris had pushed as hard as their current understanding of the car’s limits allowed, yet they were still slower than Hamilton.

The most terrifying part was that Mercedes-Benz looked like they were barely breaking a sweat.

Kai was intensely studying the FP1 telemetry data from Hamilton and Bottas.

Under the new regulations, the Mercedes chassis actually appeared more stable. The precision and execution of their steering compensation through the low and medium-speed corners was astonishing. Their front wing generated ample downforce without disrupting the crucial airflow to the rear of the car. Whether navigating high-speed sweepers, medium-speed transitions, or slow-speed hairpins, the W10 remained perfectly planted. The key to their design wasn’t aggressive, razor-sharp aggression; it was absolute tolerance—

A massive margin for error. A phenomenal ability to adapt to entirely different track layouts and vastly different driving styles.

Simply put, the car wasn’t picky. It didn’t care who was driving it or what circuit it was on. It was highly adaptable. It allowed the driver to make mistakes, yet it still remained blisteringly fast.

You only had to look at the final push laps from Hamilton and Bottas to see it. Their rhythms and sector times were incredibly close.

Neither Mercedes driver had fully unleashed the car’s potential; they were both clearly managing their pace. But the raw performance gap between Hamilton and Bottas was undeniably shrinking.

Compared to last season’s W09, this new W10 was smoother, more refined, and significantly more stable. The inherent performance of the car itself was already resting at the absolute zenith of the sport, loudly broadcasting its potential as a true, era-defining ’rocket ship.’ Under these circumstances, the performance gap generated by individual driver skill was actually minimized. Even if a driver pushed themselves to the absolute limit, extracting significantly more pace out of this machine was incredibly difficult because the car’s baseline was already so astronomically high.

It was highly predictable: with the car’s overwhelming performance masking the discrepancy in raw driving talent, the internal competition between Hamilton and Bottas was likely to reach a white-hot intensity this season.

So—

Was this the real reason Toto Wolff chose to renew Bottas’s contract instead of promoting George Russell?

Perhaps... the truth wasn’t that Wolff harbored a personal vendetta against Sebastian Vettel. It wasn’t about Wolff executing a Machiavellian master plan across his customer teams.

It was entirely because of the W10.

The Mercedes-Benz W10 possessed such terrifying, dominant performance that you could practically put any competent driver on the grid into that seat, and they would effortlessly secure podium finishes. In the turbo-hybrid era, the sheer, crushing dominance of a superior machine was absolute and irreversible.

If Kai or Vettel had joined Mercedes-Benz, the toxic, team-destroying history of the ”Hamilton vs. Rosberg” civil war would have inevitably repeated itself. Simultaneously, Wolff was likely terrified that Russell, fueled by Kai’s unbelievable rookie success, would enter the team with that ”fearless newborn calf” mentality and recklessly attempt to violently overthrow Hamilton.

First season: dethroned by an eighteen-year-old kid in a Ferrari. Second season: overthrown again, this time by a twenty-year-old kid... who happened to be his own teammate.

If that happened, Hamilton’s career trajectory would likely nose-dive, leading to an irreversible slump. The so-called ’aura of a king’ would be permanently relegated to the history books.

Therefore—

When forced to choose between injecting fresh, aggressive young blood or maintaining the status quo, Wolff had opted for his obedient, reliable tool: Valtteri Bottas.

It wasn’t so much that Wolff doubted Hamilton’s ability to beat the youngsters. It was more accurate to say that Wolff was making the optimal strategic decision from the perspective of the team’s overarching interests.

For the 2019 season, Wolff’s absolute primary objective was to ensure the entire Mercedes-Benz organization remained fiercely united. They needed to reclaim their throne with absolute, tyrannical dominance. They couldn’t just win the Constructors’ World Championship; the Drivers’ World Championship absolutely had to go to Hamilton to re-establish their dynasty.

The goal wasn’t just for the 2019 season; it extended far beyond that. Mercedes-Benz had to execute a brutal, flawless counter-attack to serve as a definitive response to the 2018 season. They needed to systematically crush the challenge posed by Ferrari and every other rival team, asserting their absolute authority. That was the correct, systematic approach to building and maintaining a dynasty.

Weighing the personal interests of the drivers against the ultimate goals of the team, Wolff had made his final choice.

Of course, this was all just a hypothesis. Kai wasn’t inside the Mercedes-Benz war room; he didn’t have access to their classified internal briefings. But if his analysis was correct, everything clicked into place perfectly. All the mysteries surrounding Wolff’s off-season decisions were instantly resolved. In Kai’s mind, this was the most logical, rational explanation for the current landscape.

And there was more.

Based on Kai’s observations, the aerodynamic design philosophies of Mercedes-Benz and Racing Point definitely shared numerous, highly suspicious similarities. However, there was a fundamental, irreversible difference between the two cars: the suspension design. Specifically, the underlying chassis architecture designed to interact with and manage the Pirelli tire compounds. That critical element dictated the car’s endurance—

In other words, tire degradation.

Racing Point’s single-lap pace looked surprisingly strong, but the moment they attempted a multi-lap run, the car’s stability began to heavily degrade.

This was exactly why Racing Point had been constantly pitting throughout today’s session, frantically searching for a setup adjustment that could flatten their tire degradation curve. Clearly, Racing Point had realized that if they attempted a genuine long-run simulation right now, the fatal flaws of their chassis would be completely exposed. And that was absolutely not the kind of ’new season optimism’ they wanted their billionaire owner, Lawrence Stroll, to see.

After all, the disastrous fate of Williams last season served as a brutal, cautionary tale:

If the car performs terribly on the track, it is absolutely, 100% not Lance Stroll’s fault. It is undeniably, entirely the fault of the car. Someone in the technical department was going to have to take the fall and be fired.

Lawrence Stroll’s nepotism and fierce protection of his son were legendary. He never tried to hide it, and he clearly had no intention of starting now.

From Racing Point’s perspective, if Mercedes-Benz could solve these aerodynamic issues, they should be able to solve them too. The exact nature of the covert technical relationship between the two teams was known only to them.

Therefore, their goal was to silently resolve these critical flaws before Qualifying and the Race. That way, they could present a flawless, high-performing team and a perfect race car to their boss, completely eliminating his anxieties.

Using Racing Point as a control group, a closer look at Mercedes-Benz’s FP1 telemetry revealed the brutal truth: the W10 maintained unbelievable, terrifying stability during its long-run simulations. Its tire degradation was incredibly well-controlled, indicating that its endurance and late-stint explosive potential were going to be a massive threat.

Clearly, Wolff was acutely aware of the predatory stares from his rivals. He simply hadn’t anticipated that the existence of Racing Point’s ’clone’ car would inadvertently expose Mercedes’ underlying strengths and weaknesses.

Consequently, Mercedes-Benz abruptly halted their long-run testing. However, they didn’t panic and scramble to hide the car in the garage—which would have looked incredibly suspicious. Instead, they kept the car out on the track, seamlessly pivoting to test other, less sensitive parameters. The effortless composure and absolute confidence displayed in every single maneuver clearly demonstrated Wolff’s unshakeable faith in the W10.

Because of this tactical pivot, Kai couldn’t verify his hypothesis with absolute, 100% certainty. The only way to truly gauge their long-run performance was to wait for the actual race and experience it firsthand.

Combining all these subtle details, the picture became clear: Mercedes-Benz had definitely held back during Free Practice 1. They hadn’t even fully unlocked their engine modes to push for maximum pace. Yet, even while holding back, they easily, effortlessly suppressed the Ferrari duo, who had essentially taken the gloves off and pushed hard.

That effortless composure perfectly showcased Mercedes-Benz’s unparalleled dominance and terrifying confidence—

Having learned from the catastrophic surprises of last season, they had constructed a ’rocket ship’ that was leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of the paddock. Even accidentally exposing the tiny tip of the iceberg was enough to completely terrify the entire grid.

A king is a king!

Compared to last season, the fundamental performance gap between Mercedes-Benz and Ferrari was silently, inexorably widening.

Kai wasn’t surprised by this realization.

Looking back, using the upgrades introduced after last year’s summer break as a baseline, the trajectory of the entire season had consistently proven one undeniable fact: the Mercedes-Benz technical team was the undisputed leader of the paddock. Their comprehension of the technical regulations and their deep understanding of the Pirelli tire compounds were lightyears ahead of everyone else. From initial concept design to R&D, continuous upgrades, and specific, race-by-race setup adjustments, they were the absolute gold standard for the entire sport.

The new season hadn’t even officially begun, yet the other nine teams in the paddock were already automatically forced into ’catch-up’ mode.

This was the true foundation of Mercedes-Benz’s terrifying confidence.

Red Bull, on the other hand, was slightly different. They strongly resembled Ferrari’s approach from the previous season. Starting from winter testing, they had been continuously throwing out thick smokescreens, making it incredibly difficult to separate truth from fiction.

Not only was it impossible to deduce anything substantial from Albon’s single-lap pace, but Verstappen’s performance was equally deceptive, hiding needles inside cotton.

Kai couldn’t tell for certain if Verstappen was actually pushing to the limit. Red Bull was staying just as low-profile as Ferrari. But one thing was clear: Red Bull’s trajectory through the low and medium-speed corners was incredibly sharp and decisive. Their overall rhythm control looked significantly improved compared to last season.

The true key, however, wasn’t Verstappen. It was Albon.

Albon was a driver who didn’t possess a wildly distinctive or flashy driving style. To put it nicely, he was ”steady.” To put it bluntly, he was ”mediocre.” He wasn’t particularly adept at wringing the absolute, bleeding-edge limit out of a car. However, he possessed the rare ability to maintain incredible stability even when faced with a difficult, unpredictable chassis. His tire management skills and ability to control the rhythm of a stint were undeniably solid.

A driver like that might not possess the raw, explosive talent to carve a bloody path through the field and single-handedly secure victories, but he could absolutely stabilize the rear guard. He could ensure the team’s baseline performance never completely collapsed.

Compared to last season’s pairing of Verstappen and Ricciardo, perhaps Albon was exactly the kind of reliable safety net Red Bull needed.

Stepping onto an F1 track for his very first official session, Albon’s performance in FP1 lacked explosive flair, but it was incredibly safe and reliable. It was highly indicative that Red Bull’s brand new RB15 had genuinely made significant strides in terms of overall chassis stability.

In stark contrast to the grim, severe atmosphere inside the Ferrari garage, the Red Bull garage was burning with a fiery, aggressive fighting spirit. Especially after watching the performance of the Mercedes duo, the Red Bull mechanics were practically rubbing their hands together in anticipation. The brief glances exchanged between them were brimming with excitement.

Even though thick fog obscured the truth and the full picture remained hidden, Kai firmly believed that Red Bull was hiding a devastating secret weapon up their sleeves. Their target wasn’t Ferrari; their crosshairs were locked squarely on the throne currently occupied by Mercedes-Benz—

Exactly like Ferrari.

The crisis and the monumental challenge were laid out bare before them.

Clearly, Red Bull didn’t view Ferrari as a threat, and Ferrari returned the favor, completely ignoring Red Bull. Neither team was aiming for mere podium finishes. They were here for the championship.

Everyone was desperate to dethrone Mercedes-Benz.

In the 2018 season, Kai had achieved the impossible and actually done it. But for the 2019 season, they needed to go even further. Not only did Kai need to perform a miracle again, but Leclerc also needed to rise to the occasion and accomplish an equally unbelievable feat.

Now, the question was: between Red Bull and Ferrari, who would be the first to achieve this monumental task? Or would Mercedes-Benz successfully weather the storm and solidify their historic dynasty?

The throne sat right in front of them. It was always there, unmoving and unshakable.

But the path leading to that throne was destined to be a brutal, blood-soaked battlefield, swarming with thousands of heavily armed challengers.

If Kai wanted to achieve this impossible mission while driving the highly unstable, terrifyingly erratic, tightrope-walking SF90, he had to take drastic measures. He had to be willing to take massive, daring, insanely risky—perhaps even seemingly stupid—gambles, constantly experimenting until he finally stumbled upon the correct path forward.

Everything was exactly like last season.

Last year, despite Kai exploding out of nowhere to snatch the victory at Albert Park in a massive, shocking upset... at the time, no one knew that the season opener would perfectly foreshadow the season’s ultimate conclusion. But it was crucial to remember: Mercedes-Benz possessed a massive, inherent historical advantage at Albert Park. It was practically their backyard.

During that race, Hamilton had displayed a crushing, absolute advantage in Qualifying, securing pole position by a terrifying margin of 0.564 seconds.

Therefore, the situation was exactly the same this time around. Ferrari desperately needed to employ a radically different strategy.

Normally, the standard operating procedure involved using Free Practice 2 to run Qualifying and Race simulations. They would collect vast amounts of telemetry data, hold a comprehensive tactical debrief that evening to formulate their Qualifying and Race strategies, and then use Free Practice 3 to finalize the precise setups and make any necessary micro-adjustments.

The massive, glaring problem staring them in the face right now was that the SF90 wasn’t just facing one or two minor issues. The flaws were systemic. If they wanted to collect all the necessary data to address every single problem, the time allotted for a single Free Practice session simply wasn’t going to be enough. Even if Kai and Leclerc perfectly divided the workload and pushed themselves to the absolute limit, it still wouldn’t be enough. So, what was the solution?

They needed a leader to step up. Someone had to look at the entire board, make ruthless, decisive choices, and dictate the overarching strategy. They needed to formulate a rough conceptual plan in their minds and commit to a specific direction. They needed to actively target potential strategic pathways and aggressively collect data specific to those pathways, rushing to finalize a definitive tactical doctrine within the severely limited time available.

This was the only possible way to maximize the efficiency and effectiveness of Free Practice 2 and Free Practice 3. As for whether the strategy actually worked? The absolute burden of that responsibility rested squarely on the shoulders of that leader. Their judgment, their analysis, their decisions—even though the fans in the grandstands would never see it, the importance of this role was absolutely equal to that of the strategy team sitting on the pit wall.

Last season, this critical responsibility was shouldered by the lead performance engineer—Jock Clear.

And right now, the situation was exactly the same.

Every eye in the garage naturally turned toward Clear. Clear opened his mouth, preparing to issue the directives, but his gaze instinctively flickered over to Kai.

During this year’s off-season, Clear, Mekies, and Borreipaire had spent a massive amount of time working closely with Kai. Clear was intimately aware of the vicious internal war between the management and technical factions. He also knew that Kai was actively striving to deeply integrate himself into the technical team. Kai’s goal was to fuse his actual, visceral on-track physical experience with the sterile simulator data, forcing the car to adapt to the driver, rather than forcing the driver to constantly slam their head against a brick wall of mechanical limitations and make desperate, last-minute compromises.

Obviously, the highly credentialed professionals within the technical team did not like drivers interfering with their work or telling them how to engineer a car. They strongly preferred drivers to just shut up, focus entirely on driving, and mind their own business.

It wasn’t a personal vendetta against Kai. It was the exact same attitude they had toward Hamilton, Vettel, Alonso, and everyone else. Not every driver possessed the once-in-a-generation technical brilliance of a Niki Lauda or a Michael Schumacher. If you don’t possess that specific genius, don’t try to play engineer.

This arrogant mindset was particularly deeply entrenched within the Maranello technical team.

Of course, the attitude of the front-line mechanics and engineers working in the actual pit garage was slightly better, but only to a limited extent. If it weren’t for the fact that they had fought side-by-side with Kai in the brutal trenches of last season, ultimately bleeding together to secure that Drivers’ World Championship—a profound camaraderie forged in combat that still carried immense weight—they probably would have told Kai to get the hell out of the garage by now.

Drivers’ World Champion? Who cares? When it comes to hardcore, highly specialized technical engineering problems, you still need to step aside and let the professionals work.

Honestly, Clear felt like he was caught between a rock and a hard place. He had to stand in solidarity with his engineering brothers. But at the same time, he implicitly trusted Kai.

Clear firmly believed that the ultimate hope for Ferrari’s true renaissance rested entirely on the shoulders of this young man.

Torn between hesitation and duty, Clear ultimately offered a subtle, almost imperceptible nod toward Kai.

Kai, in stark contrast, radiated absolute, unshakeable confidence and perfect composure. To an outsider, this looked like the arrogant swagger that came with being the reigning World Champion. But if you asked Monfardini, he would tell you the truth: this had absolutely nothing to do with the ”World Champion” halo. This was simply Kai’s innate personality. The Kai they were seeing right now was the real Kai.

This was the exact same young man who had earned the deep respect and adoration of the technical team within the Maranello youth academy.

And now, he was finally unsheathing his true, razor-sharp edge for the world to see.

”For Qualifying: we drop the drag. Make microscopic adjustments to the front wing angle of attack, and stiffen the suspension significantly. We are gambling absolutely everything on maximizing single-lap ultimate pace.”

”For the Race: we drastically increase the rear downforce, crank up the rear wing angle, and implement a setup designed specifically to widen and protect our optimal tire operating window.”

Concise. Clear. Straight to the point.

Kai didn’t waste a single breath on unnecessary explanations. It was a dual-track strategy. It simultaneously embraced extreme risk and conservative insurance, desperately attempting to locate a miraculous, microscopic point of equilibrium while balancing on a terrifyingly unstable tightrope. The final, critical piece of the puzzle would have to be provided by the driver pushing themselves to the absolute physical limit. It was entirely predictable that both Qualifying and the Race were going to be grueling, agonizing battles against his own physical and mental boundaries.

His plain, straightforward words were delivered with absolute, ironclad finality, striking the bullseye with devastating precision.

A low, restless murmuring instantly rippled through the pit box. Watching Kai bypass Clear to issue direct technical orders, brazenly asserting the authority of a true Number One driver, the engineers’ first, instinctual reaction was resistance. It was a pure, knee-jerk reflex. Even if the exact same words had been spoken, having Clear relay Kai’s request versus Kai issuing the directive directly yielded two fundamentally different psychological reactions.

However, the murmuring had barely begun before they were met with Kai’s clear, piercing gaze, which struck back at them with absolute, unapologetic candor.

Instantly, it was like a hand clamped around their throats—

Every single person standing in this garage had been physically present to witness the miraculous reversal at Interlagos and the glorious triumph at Yas Marina. When they had shouted ”Captain!”, they had done so with their entire hearts and souls. They were genuinely, profoundly in awe of this young man. Now, faced with Kai’s unyielding gaze once again, an invisible, crushing pressure instantly extinguished their murmurs.

And then, Mekies stepped up to prove his worth. He intervened with perfect, impeccable timing, not only instantly defusing the tension but completely neutralizing the conflict, expertly redirecting everyone’s attention.

”And what about Charles?”

Obviously, Leclerc wasn’t standing there. Leclerc and his dedicated engineering team were next door in their own section of the garage. It certainly wasn’t Kai’s place to dictate their strategy.

But Mekies’s position was unique. He oversaw the operations of both Kai and Leclerc. It was entirely appropriate and necessary for him to solicit input regarding Leclerc’s strategy.

By asking this question, Mekies wasn’t just asking for Kai’s opinion on Leclerc’s setup; he was simultaneously inquiring about Ferrari’s overarching strategy for the race. Kai and Leclerc absolutely had to test entirely different setup parameters during Free Practice 2. Ultimately, all that telemetry data would be pooled and shared, forming the critical foundational data required to build their final race strategy.

If the two drivers could execute their testing programs in perfect synchronization, their chances of breaking the deadlock and finding a winning formula would increase significantly.

Kai tilted his chin up slightly, the light in his eyes flickering with intense focus. ”Increase his front wing angle of attack. Prioritize stability and fluidity in his mid-corner rhythm.”

In Kai’s assessment, Leclerc’s driving style was like water flowing smoothly over glass—incredibly fluid and phenomenally entertaining to watch. This was especially true during his qualifying flying laps; the seamless, unbroken flow of his driving was an absolute visual masterpiece. His raw, single-lap pace was undeniably among the absolute elite in the entire paddock.

Therefore, Leclerc was a driver who relied heavily on rhythm and fluidity. He needed to find his groove, to maintain that unbroken flow of momentum. Once he found that, the other technical details would naturally fall into place.

Compared to Kai, Leclerc absolutely required a fundamentally different setup philosophy.

Of course, this wasn’t purely an act of altruism for Leclerc’s benefit. This was a parallel, alternative strategy designed to attempt to solve the SF90’s chaotic, disastrous rhythm in low and medium-speed corners. Kai desperately needed to collect enough hard data to determine which setup philosophy was ultimately superior. If neither setup proved effective, they needed to know exactly how to physically wrestle the car around the track during Qualifying and the Race.

Professional, objective, and razor-sharp—

Any true technical professional could instantly recognize the profound depth and insight embedded in his words. The lingering, restless murmuring in the garage finally completely died down.

Clear immediately seized the moment to solidify the plan. ”No problem. That’s exactly how we’ll proceed.”

With a single sentence, the decision was final. He firmly closed the door before any dissenting voices could even attempt to speak up.

Then, Clear spun around and clapped his hands loudly. ”Alright, everyone, move it! What are you all standing around for? We have a massive mountain of tasks to complete in FP2. We do not have the luxury of standing around gossiping like the cast of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Move, move, move!”

...

Busy. Compact. Hyper-focused. Crowded—

As Free Practice 2 officially commenced, the entire Albert Park circuit was instantly engulfed in the thick smoke of battle. All ten teams launched into frantic, non-stop activity, their feet practically not touching the ground.

Ferrari... remained a scene of intense, blistering activity. The Number 22 and Number 16 cars were constantly darting in and out of the pit lane. However, there was a stark difference compared to FP1: this time, the two Ferrari cars spent the vast majority of the session out on the actual asphalt.

In fact, Ferrari logged the highest number of testing laps of any team during Free Practice 2—

Mercedes-Benz only completed 31 laps. Red Bull completed 33 laps. But Ferrari logged a staggering 40 laps. Not only did they lead the ’Big Three’, they led the entire paddock. They completed more testing mileage than any other team on the grid, projecting an entirely different attitude and intent.

In FP1, they logged the fewest laps in the paddock, acting incredibly secretive, hiding behind a veil of mystery.

In FP2, they logged the most laps in the paddock, operating openly and aggressively, appearing to have finally taken the gloves off.

It was a night-and-day difference.

On the very first Friday of the new season, Ferrari presented two completely contradictory faces. By operating in such wildly divergent ways, they successfully shrouded themselves in a thick, impenetrable veil of mystery. It was impossible to grasp their true intent, and absolutely impossible to accurately diagnose their actual competitive state.

However, and it was unclear if this was merely an illusion, the collaboration between Kai and Leclerc seemed to bypass any initial friction or break-in period entirely. They instantly locked into a perfect operational rhythm. It wasn’t just about direct communication between the two drivers; the two halves of the Ferrari garage were maintaining constant, intense dialogue and close cooperation, entirely devoid of the toxic, divisive barriers that had plagued them last season.

Of course, perhaps it really was just an illusion. It could just be a highly polished, official PR performance orchestrated by Ferrari. It could be a subconscious bias stemming from the knowledge that Kai and Leclerc were close friends off the track. It could be nothing more than an overactive imagination desperately searching for a narrative. It was entirely possible that a violently turbulent undercurrent was currently raging just beneath the placid surface, barely being held in check.

The only absolute, 100% undeniable truth was this: Ferrari remained the absolute, undisputed epicenter of paddock traffic and attention.

It wasn’t just the Netflix documentary crew, the official F1 broadcasting platform, the international media journalists, and the fanatical fans in the grandstands. Even the rival teams in the paddock were obsessively monitoring their every move. Both Mercedes-Benz and Red Bull had dedicated personnel specifically assigned to track Ferrari’s every single action. They were a natural focal point; the spotlight simply gravitated toward them automatically.

Yet, despite the intense scrutiny, no one could decipher the truth.

When Free Practice 2 finally concluded, everyone had expected to gather crucial data, allowing them to peek into the future and predict the narrative arcs for Qualifying and the Race. Instead, the results only plunged them into a deeper state of profound confusion. They were left stranded in a thick fog, heads full of question marks, realizing that the true power dynamics of the new season were still completely obscured.

The Mercedes-Benz duo comfortably dominated the top of the FP2 timing sheets. Hamilton in first, Bottas in second.

That wasn’t the news. The real news was the sheer magnitude of their single-lap pace advantage. Verstappen, sitting in third place, was a staggering 0.800 seconds behind. The gap had violently, abruptly exploded open.

Even though everyone knew that single-lap pace in Free Practice was only a rough reference point and lacked definitive meaning, seeing that massive chasm staring back at them on the official timing screens was genuinely terrifying.

In other words, Mercedes-Benz had already ascended to an entirely different plane of existence. The W10 rocket ship was currently playing in a universe entirely of its own making. Every other team on the grid had been brutally, completely left in the dust. Not a single team possessed the capability to even run alongside them. This level of crushing dominance was even more absurd and exaggerated than it had been last season.

The W10 was truly that terrifying!

From third place down to tenth place, the gap was incredibly tight, entirely contained within 0.4 seconds. Essentially, everyone in that bracket was playing in the exact same sandbox. Being slightly faster or slightly slower was entirely within the normal margin of error for practice sessions.

Red Bull occupied third and fourth, indicating Albon had seemingly finally found his footing. Räikkönen was fifth, while the Renault duo occupied sixth and seventh.

It wasn’t until you scrolled down to eighth and ninth that you finally found the Ferraris. Kai and Leclerc, back-to-back, with Kai leading Leclerc by exactly one-tenth of a second. Although it was impossible to accurately assess Ferrari’s true state based on this, it was glaringly obvious that Leclerc was still heavily struggling to adapt to the wildly unpredictable SF90.

Finally, rounding out the top ten was Haas’s Kevin Magnussen.

On one hand, people were genuinely amazed by the surprising pace of Alfa Romeo and Haas, who had both successfully cracked the top ten. However, given that both teams utilized Ferrari power units, the fact that the customer teams were currently stealing the spotlight from the factory team made the underlying reality blindingly obvious. Ferrari was undoubtedly, blatantly deploying a massive smokescreen.

”Ferrari is overacting! Nobody with a functioning brain actually believes they can’t even outpace Alfa Romeo.”

On the other hand, people were genuinely shocked by the agonizing struggles of Racing Point and Williams. With Mercedes-Benz currently annihilating the entire grid, how could their customer teams be performing so disastrously? Williams was still effectively trying to figure out how to bolt their car together, so their lack of pace was understandable. But Racing Point? Vettel in thirteenth and Stroll in sixteenth? That was wildly abnormal.

After all, setting aside whatever secret, under-the-table deals might have occurred between Mercedes-Benz and Racing Point during the off-season, no one could forget that Racing Point was formerly Force India. Before their catastrophic financial collapse last year, they were consistently the fourth-fastest team in the paddock. They absolutely possessed the underlying engineering capability to challenge the ’Big Three.’

Therefore, with Lawrence Stroll injecting a massive wave of fresh capital into the team, how was it logically possible for Racing Point to be performing this abysmally?

”Is Racing Point actively coordinating with Mercedes-Benz to put on a show? Are Mercedes and Ferrari actually orchestrating a massive, collaborative theatrical performance? What kind of bizarre, twisted love-hate script are we watching here?”

Truth and lies. Reality and illusion. Everything was strategy.

The terrifyingly dominant Mercedes-Benz. The incredibly low-profile Ferrari. The Red Bull that was trying to hide its true pace but couldn’t help leaking hints of lethal speed. The Renault that was quietly baring its fangs, refusing to merely survive in the midfield while navigating the treacherous waters. The Racing Point that was cloaked in a thick veil, completely obscuring its true capabilities...

All of them. Every single one of them, without exception, was furiously deploying smokescreens. Perhaps the only team in the entire paddock offering a genuine, unfiltered look at their true performance was Williams, languishing alone at the very back of the grid, entirely removed from the chaotic political warfare. Perez and Russell were genuinely, completely powerless to do anything about it.

The roaring noise of the new season had seemingly just begun, yet in the blink of an eye, the exhausting, nerve-wracking intensity of Friday had already drawn to a close.

The setting sun painted the sky, burning fiercely on the distant horizon. The vibrant crimson hues perfectly mirrored the passionate red of the Tifosi, washing Albert Park in a brilliant, breathtaking display of color.

Norris walked purposefully forward, making his way from the deepest recesses of the pit lane toward the exit. He stopped near the pit lane opening, craning his neck and peering curiously into the neighboring garages.

He looked exactly like a kid who had just finished school on a Friday afternoon, eagerly searching for his friends so they could go out and play.

”Kai! Kai!” Norris shouted loudly, standing just outside the garage.

”Hey, Lando.” A voice answered from nearby. Norris turned to see Pierre Borreipaire walking toward him. ”They’re currently in a debrief inside. I highly doubt it’ll be finishing anytime soon. What’s up? Is tonight game night?”

Norris scratched his head. ”No, I just wanted to see if they wanted to grab dinner together. Is Charles in there too?”

Borreipaire nodded. ”Yes. Full team technical debrief.”

Norris threw his hands up in defeat. ”Well, nothing to be done about that. Looks like I’ll just have to go enjoy a massive feast all by myself. Oh yeah!” As he spoke, he pantomimed shooting a fadeaway basketball jumper. ”Tell Kai that I’ll be enjoying his portion of the lobster on his behalf. Tell him not to be too jealous, and remind him to try not to drool all over the technical reports.”

It wasn’t just Ferrari. Over at Red Bull, Verstappen and Albon were locked in their own intense debrief. And the Williams garage was in a state of absolute, frantic panic, working so hard their feet practically didn’t touch the ground.

Norris, clocking out early, looked incredibly relaxed and carefree. It was impossible to say if that was a good sign for McLaren or a terrible one.

Fortunately, Sainz called out from behind him, shouting ”Lando!” as he jogged to catch up. The two McLaren teammates happily clocked out and left the circuit together.

Watching Norris walk away, Borreipaire turned and headed back toward the conference room. A massive, grueling mountain of work was still waiting for them tonight.

Was Free Practice 2 a massive smokescreen?

Yes. And no.

Ferrari genuinely faced an overwhelming mountain of testing protocols and setup configurations that desperately needed to be evaluated. During FP2, they simply didn’t have the luxury of time to play mind games with their rivals. Rather than wasting energy worrying about what others were doing, it was far more productive to focus intensely on themselves.

But simultaneously, Ferrari was acutely aware that every other team was obsessively monitoring their every move, desperately trying to steal intel. So, they simply leaned into it. They deliberately pushed their lap count to the absolute extreme. Blurring the lines between truth and deception, they resolutely marched to the beat of their own drum, leaving their competitors to drown in their own speculation and confusion. They squeezed every last drop of usable time out of FP2, ruthlessly seizing the opportunity to complete a massive volume of critical testing.

Now, the on-track testing phase was temporarily concluded. The next phase was analyzing the mountain of raw data and finalizing their actual race strategy.

An entirely different kind of grueling work was officially beginning!

Friday night was going to be a very, very long night.