Chaos, disaster, nightmare.
From heaven to hell in a single second. The Interlagos circuit was swept into a storm, leaving shattered hearts and agonizing wails scattered everywhere.
Tifosi standing in front of their televisions were scattered across the globe.
London, Rosanna Preston.
Milan, Rocco Cesari.
Monaco, the Prass family.
New York, Frédéric Arnault.
And so on, and so on. Almost everyone thought the race was over. They believed Kai, like Vettel, was about to retire. Ferrari's Brazilian Grand Prix had seemingly ended, and the initiative in the World Championship fight had fallen into their rivals' hands. Mercedes had seized destiny by the throat.
However, they quickly realized the nearly extinguished flame of hope had flickered back to life, shining a faint light to guide the way. Car 22 limped back to the pit lane on three wheels, but it did not retire. The Ferrari pit crew sprang into highly efficient action, changing Kai's tires.
Immediately after, he exited the pit lane and returned to the track.
At that moment, Preston simply couldn't believe her eyes. Her heart flew uncontrollably toward Interlagos. She couldn't even make a sound, forgetting she was supposed to. She just threw her arms high in the air like flags, silently answering Car 22's call, lighting a beacon of hope in the endless darkness.
Thump! Thump!
Hearts began beating again, slow but strong, pounding heavily against chests. That dull ache reminded them:
The race is not over.
Just like life itself—facing accident after accident, hardship after hardship. Being knocked down time and again, only to stand back up, pressing forward with unyielding resolve. Chasing dreams, chasing hope, chasing miracles. Fighting to the very end, leaving no regrets. So that when death finally comes and they look back on their long lives, they can say with absolute confidence:
I do not regret a thing.
Arnault stood frozen. He completely hadn't expected this. Seeing Car 22 return to the track, tagging onto the back of the pack, he felt his own blood boil with excitement. He could almost feel the energy of Tifosi worldwide uniting into an unbreakable bond.
So this is the passion of competitive sports.
The Interlagos circuit was no exception. When they saw Car 22 exit the pit lane, the main grandstand erupted with astonishing energy.
The race was currently under the Safety Car. Vettel's car had gone off track and was stuck in the gravel trap. The crane needed some time to clear it.
Counting Stroll's incident, this was the second delay since the start, and it was only Lap 6. There was a premonition that this would be an incredibly long race—
Classic Interlagos!
With two cars retired, Kai rejoined the track temporarily in P18, dead last.
But everyone knew Kai wouldn't just quietly stay there. You could palpably feel the entire train of drivers ahead of him tense up.
They had seen this episode before—
Singapore!
However, this time was slightly different. The midfield and backmarker drivers were just like Kai—fighting for points, fighting for their careers.
If they crashed and took each other out... they didn't have much to lose. But Kai couldn't afford to lose. One crash had already destroyed most of his chances; another crash meant saying goodbye to Interlagos for good. They believed Kai was the one who truly had everything to lose.
Just as Verstappen had said, every driver in the paddock could become the deciding factor in the championship outcome.
If they really thought that way, they were destined for disappointment.
Lap 9. Safety Car in. Racing resumed.
"Outside line, accelerating!"
"Kai wastes no time! Immediately pulls out on the straight, alongside Vandoorne's McLaren!"
"Clearly, Vandoorne didn't expect Kai's attack to come so fast! He couldn't block the line! But even if he did, it would be useless!"
"Kai chooses to eat the McLaren alive on the straight using pure power advantage!"
"Beautiful! Overtake complete!"
Groans filled the McLaren pit wall. Zak Brown buried his face in his hands in despair, unable to watch.
However, Kai had no time to care about Vandoorne. Ahead on the left, P16 Sirotkin was attacking Ocon in P15.
Whether it was Sirotkin or Ocon, young drivers are full of hot blood. They carry a bit of fire on the track and can easily get impulsive. The slightest lapse in attention could lead to a collision.
Kai stuck to the outside line—the standard racing line from pole position—leaving the inside of the track open to give Sirotkin and Ocon room to tangle. He wasn't in a rush to swallow them whole. Watching Sirotkin and Ocon lock horns into Turn 1, Kai braked early, yielding space, refusing to get dragged into their mess.
Sure enough!
In the intense corner duel, Sirotkin's steering control proved unstable. The Williams and the Force India made slight contact. The dynamic balance of both cars was shattered in the corner, bobbing like small boats in a storm. Their racing lines became erratic as they fought to exit Turn 2 first.
Little did they know, a flash of Ferrari red had quietly lurked behind them. After following them out of Turn 2, Kai waited patiently through Turn 3.
Exit, correct, throttle pinned. Kai didn't hesitate to blast past on the outside of the straight. Ocon and Sirotkin, still fiercely battling each other, noticed none of this. They watched helplessly as the red blur, utilizing extreme late braking, dove into Turn 4. With a beautiful steering correction, he left both the Williams and the Force India in the dust.
Logically, Force India, using a Mercedes engine, shouldn't lose to Ferrari in straight-line speed. But Ocon hadn't anticipated Kai charging up right after the first sequence of corners. He had no time to defend his position and could only watch Kai complete the overtake.
"Wow!"
"Obviously, Kai has no intention of staying at the back of the pack. But the young Ferrari driver's ability to quickly regain focus after chaos and accidents is truly remarkable. The Safety Car has barely left, and he's already found his rhythm, throwing himself back into the competition of the Brazilian Grand Prix."
"The teams on the pit wall need to stay alert."
Wasting no time, Kai had already climbed from P18 to P15, launching a full-speed pursuit. Not because of time, but because of the tires.
Today, the top 10 drivers had all started on Super Softs, while from P11 downwards, almost everyone had started on Softs. According to Pirelli's official recommendations, the Softs could run 8 to 10 laps longer than the Super Softs.
Kai's unscheduled pit stop had also put him on Softs. He needed to quickly pass the opponents also on Softs, then use his tire advantage to close in on the cars on Super Softs. When the leading pack triggered a wave of pit stops, he could seize that tire advantage to minimize the gap as much as possible.
He hadn't forgotten that Ferrari's car performance was slightly inferior to Mercedes and Red Bull. Now, his only hope was that Ferrari's long-run pace could close the gap or even surpass their rivals, earning him a chance for a final, desperate push for the podium.
Therefore, he couldn't waste time or tire life.
In fact, that's exactly what Kai was doing. After easily passing Toro Rosso's Hartley (who was on Mediums), he had moved up to P14.
But the real challenges lay ahead: Alonso and Raikkonen. Two World Champions. Clearly, they wouldn't just roll over and surrender their positions, especially after what happened in Singapore.
As expected, Alonso noticed Kai in his mirrors and visibly slowed his pace. Instead of continuing to chase Raikkonen, he adopted a defensive posture, waiting for Kai's challenge. His smooth, flowing racing line displayed masterful class!
"Exiting Turn 3! Straight! Pulls out!"
"Kai is very decisive, very firm! Preparing to use his engine advantage to eat the McLaren alive on the straight!"
"But Alonso isn't Vandoorne! Alonso refuses to just hand over the position! A slight swerve to the right to squeeze the line! Kai's right tires are already on the white line!"
"The two cars enter Turn 4 side-by-side! Wheel-to-wheel!"
"Alonso refuses to yield! But Kai refuses to back down! Kai maintains excellent mid-corner rhythm on the outside!"
"Turn 4! Turn 5!"
"Kai has taken the lead! Can Ferrari beat McLaren again?"
"The answer is yes!"
"Kai takes the initiative, exiting Turn 5 onto the straight, continuing to fly down the right side of the track. Not only securing the position but also grasping the racing line advantage for the right-hand Turn 6. Kai successfully overtakes Alonso! A clean, crisp pass, continuing to improve his track position in the shortest possible time."
"Once again, Kai showcases his talent and strength on the track!"
Wails echoed from the McLaren pit wall. Zak Brown held his head in his hands, sinking into deep agony, while Alonso's furious cursing filled the radio. For them, this disastrous season continued to sink, an endless sea of suffering with no shore in sight.
However, none of this concerned Kai.
Calm, rational, focused, decisive—like a professional assassin.
Facing Alonso, Kai wasn't impulsive. He chose the most appropriate spot to strike, minimizing tire wear. Although the Ferrari was superior to the McLaren, Kai absolutely didn't underestimate Alonso. He planned meticulously and delivered a fatal blow, ensuring no openings were left.
He not only needed to pass but also ensure no lingering threats—
Next up: Raikkonen.
The logic was the same. The Sauber car wasn't great, but the driver was not to be underestimated.
Kai was prepared for another head-to-head duel with Raikkonen, but he never expected the opportunity to just fall into his lap!
"Kai passes Raikkonen! The two cars swap positions!"
"It was just that simple. Kai was looking for an opportunity, following closely. Exiting a corner, Raikkonen's tires locked slightly, sending him off-line, exposing a flaw and leaving the entire inside line wide open."
"Kai essentially said, 'Oh, since you're offering such a grand gift, I'll gladly accept.' He completed the overtake without spending any effort."
"Clearly, this isn't what we wanted to see, but Kai is unstoppable, carving through the field! Ferrari refuses to surrender and hand over this race!"
As he passed, Kai glanced at the Number 7 Sauber.
He had a feeling that someone had a lot of accumulated words they wanted to say about his current predicament, but ultimately left them unspoken, choosing to respond with actions instead.
After the effortless pass, he moved up another spot to P12, closing in on the points-paying positions.
Ahead were the two Renaults: Sainz in P10 as the gatekeeper to the points, and Hulkenberg in P11, stubbornly blocking the road ahead.
Although it had been a while since the Safety Car returned to the pits, the midfield and backmarker packs hadn't strung out. Kai was 0.8 seconds behind Hulkenberg and 1.8 seconds behind Sainz. Both cars were in his sights; he could attack at any moment.
However, Kai didn't rush!
Nico Hulkenberg, who held the record for the most race starts without a podium finish, was absolutely a unique presence in the paddock.
Since entering F1 in 2010, Hulkenberg had proven his speed more than once, frequently pulling off jaw-dropping laps in qualifying. However, he always lacked a bit of luck in the races, and even this year, he was still bitterly searching for the first podium of his career.
On one hand, the longer he held the "no podiums" record, the more awkward it became, seemingly serving as direct proof of a lack of competitiveness.
On the other hand, the fact that he could consistently remain in the paddock, steadily accumulating race starts, proved his talent and consistency.
And the facts supported this. In races, Hulkenberg's attacking and defensive skills were somewhat average, lacking edge, but he excelled in consistency and rarely made unforced errors. Never standing on the podium in eight seasons was partly a car issue and partly a luck issue, but no one could deny his ability.
Once hailed as Schumacher's successor, he was now becoming a paddock journeyman. But even a journeyman couldn't survive in the paddock for so many years if they were just anyone.
After easily passing Raikkonen, Kai followed Hulkenberg for a while and immediately realized:
Renault Team Principal Cyril Abiteboul had no intention of making this easy for him.
Hulkenberg showed absolutely no intention of chasing Sainz. Instead, he shifted all his focus to Kai, adopting a full-defense posture.
It wasn't that Hulkenberg never made mistakes, but his error rate was indeed very low. Furthermore, the pace of Sainz ahead of Hulkenberg was very similar. The two Renaults hadn't pulled apart. Even if Kai successfully passed Hulkenberg, he had to be wary of a pincer attack from both Renaults.
In other words, he couldn't act impulsively. If Kai made a rash move, he might trap himself or even make a mistake.
So, the two Renaults and one Ferrari formed a DRS train, all within a one-second gap, but the rhythm was tight and the space was narrow. Such a situation was an absolutely top-tier, severe test of a driver's skill, instinct, and courage.
While Kai was caught in the DRS train queue, the leading pack ahead was continuously pulling away, gradually shaking off the rhythm of the midfield pack and entering a duel on a different level.
The gap gradually widened, gradually expanded.
However, the more this happened, the more calmness and focus were needed. He couldn't aim too high and think about the podium; he had to focus on the immediate situation.
Otherwise, F1 isn't street racing. Brutal reality would quickly wake the driver up, or even drag them down to hell. Being eliminated was just a moment's distraction away.
Patience is incredibly important in a race chasing ultimate speed. Especially here, at Interlagos, where variables always lurk in the next corner.
Sure enough, before Kai could find an opportunity to break free from the DRS train, a variable arrived—
"Rain expected."
Lap 19. Pierre's voice came over the radio.
"Based on the forecast, we expect about five minutes of rain between Lap 21 and Lap 25. The volume won't be heavy, likely a light sun shower."
"What are the track conditions now? Are you preparing to pit?"
Was the rain finally going to make an appearance and disrupt the race?
It wasn't just the Ferrari pit wall; all the other teams were frantically discussing it.
When would it rain? On which parts of the track? How heavy? For how long? Keep using slicks, or switch to wet tires? Intermediates or full Wets?
Especially now, as the gaps between cars were opening up but hadn't fully expanded, plans were instantly thrown into disarray. Putting aside undercut and overcut opportunities for a moment, the battle of track position and tires was absolutely critical.
Once you chose to pit, losing track position and getting stuck in traffic would be a fatal blow.
Similarly, choosing the right tire was a massive gamble. The right tire could turn a weather disadvantage into your advantage; the wrong tire could completely destroy your race.
More importantly, opponents were keeping each other in check, watching each other's moves. The split-second tactical battles instantly sparked the smell of gunpowder, spreading everywhere.
For Kai, this rain was bad news. Absolutely terrible news. He had finally climbed to the edge of the points, and now, everything could be wiped out in an instant.
Ill-fated, plagued by misfortune. It seemed even God stood against Kai, placing all bets for the season's two World Championships on Mercedes.
"When it rains, it pours" perfectly described Kai's miserable situation at this moment.
Because of his teammate, Kai had almost been completely knocked out of the race. Forced to make an unscheduled pit stop on Lap 5 and switch to Soft tires, throwing all pre-race plans out the window, he had chased and overtaken all the way, while trying to protect his tires and race against time. His hope was to turn a disadvantage into an advantage, waiting for the leading pack's Super Softs to degrade and force them to pit—
That would be the moment for his Soft tires to shine. It would be up to him to perform magic and use the Soft tires to make up the previous gap.
He had finally climbed to P12. If he could just pass the two Renaults, he would have the tire advantage and the possibility of overturning the situation.
And now... rain?
Heh.
This not only meant Kai's tire plan was completely ruined, and all his hard work chasing might turn to bubbles, forcing him to make a second impromptu plan change.
It also meant Kai would essentially be making an extra, useless pit stop compared to the other drivers. After changing to wet tires and coming back out, he would be back on the same starting line as everyone else, with the crucial difference that he would drop to the back of the pack, sending his chances of a podium finish plummeting to rock bottom.
Absurd. Powerless.
Then, Kai spoke. "What's the predicted rainfall?"
Calm, steady, unmoved.
F1 uses a reference index for rainfall per hour, from 1 to 10. 1 is the lightest, 10 is the heaviest—a disastrous downpour requiring a red flag to stop the race.
Pierre also felt the accumulating layers of pressure, but he had no time for frustration or dismay, maintaining his focus and composure in response to Kai's voice.
"2," Pierre replied. Simply put, light rain, maybe slightly heavier than drizzle. "It's located on the north side of the track, basically covering all of Sector 2 and the first half of Sector 3."
Kai didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked up toward the north side of the circuit.
Sure enough, a visible cumulonimbus cloud was gathering rapidly.
But the sun was still shining brightly, the sky was still clear, and his vision was filled with large expanses of blue. However, looking closely at the horizon where the sky meets the earth, he could faintly see more clouds shifting continuously, brewing a variable—
A sun shower might just pass in a moment, but a hidden danger lurked in the distance.
If Kai could see the weather conditions, obviously the other teams could too. So, would changing to wet tires now be just a short-term consideration, or perhaps a long-term plan?
However, if the rain wasn't heavy, the advantage of wet tires wouldn't manifest, and the lap times would be a disaster; in dry conditions, it would be an absolute nightmare.
Kai always believed that crises hide opportunities to turn the tide. Was this the same? When the race plan was disrupted and overturned for the second time, could they find an alternative path to survive?
His brain whirred at high speed, thoughts pausing briefly amidst the tangled mess.
Cutting the Gordian knot cleanly and decisively, Kai found his direction. "Pierre, I'm staying out."
Pierre was taken aback. He immediately realized Kai was preparing to gamble everything—
He was betting that the rain wouldn't be heavy, and he could still hold on for a while on Softs; he was betting that the other drivers wouldn't dare risk staying on track.
Of course, the risk was extremely high. A massive gamble.
Kai knew this perfectly well. The slightest misstep could mean losing everything.
However, continuing step-by-step, expending all his energy just to fight for one or two points, and consoling himself that at least the race wasn't a total disaster—that wasn't Kai's style.
Clearly, everything was going off the rails today, plans constantly being disrupted and overturned. So, instead of continuing to play it safe, it was better to burn the boats.
Over the years, from Red Bull to Mercedes, dominating F1 in turns, Ferrari had always been drifting up and down. Continuing to be conservative would never bring a breakthrough. So why not go with the flow, use the opportunity to stir up a bloodbath, and see if Mercedes and Red Bull could handle it?
Conservative or adventurous—for Kai, it was never a difficult choice.
Pierre took a deep breath. "Okay, understood."
Despite his best efforts to hide it, Pierre's voice betrayed a hint of unease. Kai caught it and couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"You're not scared, are you? Oh, poor Pierre." That blatant teasing made Pierre laugh helplessly and shake his head.
"Come on, Pierre. The more difficulties, the stronger the storm, the more we should fight back. Fearlessly shout for the storm to rage harder! The worst-case scenario is we crash and burn together. But at least we fought a fair fight."
"Straighten your back, fasten your seatbelt. I'm ready to accelerate. This will definitely be my most unforgettable birthday."
Pierre, without realizing it himself, quietly opened his shoulders and straightened his back.
He instinctively turned to look at Arrivabene. He thought Arrivabene would interfere, maybe even scold Kai for acting recklessly.
However, Arrivabene didn't.
Noticing Pierre's gaze, Arrivabene simply said steadily, "Keep an eye on the weather."
Ferrari's only hope now was Kai. Continuing to play it safe for a point or two was a drop in the bucket. They no longer had the luxury of being conservative and playing it safe.
So, it was a desperate last resort.
In reality, the weather is unpredictable, especially at Interlagos. Although the pit wall closely monitors the weather, their experience isn't as real or direct as the driver's.
They had to trust the driver's judgment and feedback; that's the correct way to handle weather changes.
Right now, they could only trust Kai.
In no time, just two or three minutes later, raindrops began to fall, leaving dots on the dry track.
Sitting on the pit wall, it wasn't clear. The rain wasn't heavy, and the naked eye couldn't catch the distant raindrops.
However, on the track, it was a different story. The pungent, sticky, rolling heatwave clung to the helmet like a spiderweb, mixed with the smell of rubber and gasoline, carrying the scent of soil and rocks. It felt wet and sticky on the helmet and racing suit, like falling into tung oil.
The feeling was hard to describe.
The drivers all experienced it firsthand and gave their feedback one by one. On Laps 22 and 23, the pit lane saw a flurry of pit stops.
Haas. Force India. Williams. Toro Rosso.
There were cars in the points and cars at the back of the pack, but their tactics and goals were different. Some adapted to the situation, some simply went all in—but differently from Kai. They saw the weather as an opportunity, hoping the rain would get heavier, so their wet tires could crush the slick-tire cars. They wanted to seize the moment while their rivals stayed out, pitting early for wet tires to gain an advantage.
One after another, like dumplings falling into a pot, setting off a frenzy of changing to Intermediate tires.
However, not everyone did this.
Mercedes, Red Bull, Ferrari—the Big Three all held their ground, standing out quietly amidst the chaos and noise of the pit lane.
Arrivabene was making a massive gamble, and Wolff and Horner were no exception.
A light breeze, fine rain. The sunlight was fading. On the horizon, gathering clouds could be seen. It was temporarily impossible to tell if or when they would approach, but they lurked in the distance like giant beasts, eyeing the track, ready to cause havoc at Interlagos.
In the pit lane, winds of change swept through, a continuous stream of traffic as cars came and went, noisy and boiling.
—
However, the Big Three were the exception.
Surprising?
No, not at all. At this critical moment in the penultimate race of the season, with the Constructors' Championship fiercely contested, the teams were keeping each other in check and plotting against each other.
Mercedes, Ferrari, and Red Bull watched each other's cues. If the opponent didn't pit for wet tires, they refused to change to wet tires either. But if one car changed to wet tires, it could trigger a chain reaction.
The other teams were the same. Renault, Haas, McLaren, and Force India kept each other in check; Toro Rosso, Sauber, and Williams kept each other in check.
In other words, top teams targeted top teams, midfield targeted midfield, and backmarkers targeted backmarkers. Every team had its designated target to keep in check.
A ranking, a position—these were what they were fighting for with all their might right now. The intensity of competition among the midfield and backmarker teams was no less than that of the Big Three.
Renault, currently holding fast in the points, had been reading the situation. Noticing Haas and Force India ahead of them pitting, they decisively stayed out. Sainz and Hulkenberg moved up together, firmly grasping the opportunity of their rivals' pit stops to improve their standings. The Team Principals were all making their moves.
At this moment, Hamilton, leading the Brazilian Grand Prix, didn't pit. In such uncertain conditions, he chose to stay out on track.
However, somewhat surprisingly, Bottas, closely following Hamilton, didn't pit either.
The usually tactically flexible Mercedes was uncharacteristically conservative—
Undoubtedly, the relentless pressure from Red Bull was one factor, while the pressure from Ferrari in the Constructors' Championship was another.
Or rather, was keeping both cars on track actually an aggressive move? Was Mercedes completely abandoning the strategy of splitting strategies to guarantee a win, instead putting all their eggs in one basket, desperately defending a 1-2 finish, refusing to show any weakness for Red Bull to exploit?
Well, opinions vary on that. The invisible tension between Wolff and Horner continued to rise. The two brilliant, cunning old foxes once again engaged in a brutal, bayonet-to-bayonet psychological duel.
However, all this had nothing to do with Kai, at least for now.
During this wave of pit stops, Kai also stayed out. After Grosjean, Gasly, Magnussen, and Perez all pitted, he followed the two Renaults up the order, quietly climbing to eighth place.
The race entered a brief period of stability. Slick tires didn't dare make rash moves in the rain, and wet tires needed some time to find grip. Every driver was trying to rediscover their racing rhythm on a half-wet, half-dry track. However, the performance gaps between the cars narrowed significantly due to the rain. The time for testing skill and courage had arrived; an attack-defense duel could unfold at any moment. The air was thick with invisible tension.
Then, someone broke the peace, sounding the charge first—
Kai!
Lap 27. The rain began to ease. Just as expected, the sun shower didn't last long. The already thin cloud layer gradually dispersed, faintly revealing the deep blue sky behind it. It wouldn't be long before the sun covered the track again.
People were still observing, still waiting. Like the calm before a storm, everyone was restless and ready to strike, but no one wanted to be the first to break the balance.
So, Kai was the first to pull the trigger.
Actually, Kai had been setting up and preparing. Over the past two laps, this DRS train had spread out slightly to avoid mistakes and accidents in the rainy conditions, both from opponents and themselves. Kai had dropped back slightly, leaving room for error before attempting an attack.
He had been constantly testing different racing lines, searching for the elusive grip hidden within the dynamic water film.
On the surface, he hovered behind Hulkenberg like a vulture, applying constant pressure; in reality, he was constantly searching for the sweet spot between the car and the track.
Once found, he would strike decisively.
And that moment was now—
Sector 2, technical corners.
Turn 8, an acute angle corner. The normal dry racing line is "in-out-in." But now, because the track was damp, the rubber laid down on the dry line made it slippery. Naturally, the wet line should be "out-in-out."
However, the rain wasn't heavy, and it hadn't completely saturated this area. The ground was just damp; the grip on the dry line hadn't entirely vanished.
The same was true for Turns 6 and 7 earlier. Back at Turn 6, Kai had already used a line change to find grip and rapidly close in on Hulkenberg. Approaching Turn 8, although Hulkenberg noticed, he subconsciously took the corner from the outside line. At this moment, Kai could see the inside line, closer to the apex, pushing half a door open.
Decisive action! Extreme late braking!
Cutting to the inside, hugging the apex. But slightly different from usual, Kai went even further inside. His right wheels were already on the white line, slightly spilling over. The track limits were being utilized to the absolute maximum.
Side-by-side!
But their entry angles were completely different. Kai and Hulkenberg squeezed into an acute corner. Yet there was visible space between the red and yellow cars, even looking like a person could fit between them, as they pierced into the corner at different speeds.
By the time Hulkenberg realized something was wrong, the subsequent cornering angle had been completely stuffed full by Kai's bold and aggressive maneuver.
Hulkenberg: Madman!
The gasp caught in his throat. Hulkenberg reflexively unwound some steering, widening his cornering arc, watching helplessly as Kai forced Car 22 into Turn 8 a step ahead.
It was visibly apparent that Car 22 was swaying and wobbling slightly, the chassis unstable. But Kai made continuous corrections and adjustments within the short corner, his hands incredibly busy, incredibly managing to control the balance. Then, a gentle and rhythmic push of the throttle—
Seemingly wobbling, but actually fluid; seemingly chaotic, but actually rhythmic.
In a single breath, the rear wing hugged the ground, exiting Turn 8 and darting onto the straight.
However, just at this moment, Car 22 swayed gently again. The constantly changing, intermittent grip was simply a wild dance on a tightrope. Thrilling and precarious, it sent Hulkenberg's heart instantly leaping into his throat.
Opportunity!
He still had a chance to grab the position back at the next corner.
But before Hulkenberg could adjust, Kai first lifted, then reapplied the throttle, making continuous corrections on the slippery track. He actually glided over the ground, following the unsteady swaying, like flying a kite with the wind, releasing his speed on the subsequent short straight, completely ignoring Hulkenberg, and immediately linking into Turn 9.
Hulkenberg's breath caught in his throat, completely unable to exhale it. Car 22 appeared fully in his vision, pulling at least half a car length ahead.
Not car performance, purely skill.
The breath that had been stuck in Hulkenberg's throat finally escaped. He stared dumbfounded at the halo of red light lingering in the rain mist.
Flamboyant, unrestrained, burning fiercely with unyielding spirit!
And Kai had already left Hulkenberg in his wake. Exiting Turn 9, he saw the tail of Sainz's Car 55 ahead. Without hesitation, he executed extreme late braking to swallow the Turn 10 hairpin, leaving no room to breathe, unexpectedly snapping right onto the tail of the Renault yellow.
Fuck!
Sainz noticed the movement in his rearview mirrors and almost cried out in alarm.