Back and forth, bayonets drawn. The continuous sparks burst into flames in the fine rain, leaving onlookers mesmerized.
Although there was a performance gap between the Ferrari and the Sauber, in wet conditions, that gap was almost negligible. It was all a test of skill.
The unyielding duel between the two genius drivers had people cheering in excitement.
One detail allowed Kai to gain the upper hand; a variable let the advantage slip through his fingers; a surge of spirit enabled Leclerc to withstand the overwhelming pressure.
This is F1!
In the blink of an eye, a slight misalignment. The two cars were still side-by-side, but their speeds were different.
Leclerc glanced at his right rearview mirror. He could see Kai's helmet, eyes flashing with high fighting spirit.
Of course, Leclerc knew Kai was fighting for the World Championship. He was very happy and willing to see Kai lead Ferrari to the top of the world. But that didn't mean he would go easy, nor did it mean he would obediently surrender without a fight. If Kai wanted victory, he had to beat him fair and square on the track!
Settle track matters on the track.
He, too, hungered for the championship!
Kai glanced at the Number 16 car on his left, a bright smile on his face. He wasn't surprised by Leclerc's response at all.
Clearly, like him, Leclerc had been waiting for this day to face off on the track.
So, Leclerc had seized the initiative in the first round. That meant Kai had to give it his all to turn the tide. He wondered if Leclerc was ready for round two.
"Everyone is guessing whether Sauber will help Ferrari win the World Championship, but Leclerc has made his voice heard with an unparalleled performance: 'If you want to win, you must beat me fair and square on the track!'"
"The straight!"
"Kai Zhizhou!"
"Inside line!"
"Obviously, DRS cannot be used right now, and the slippery track isn't suitable for attacking. Kai is trying a different strategy to overtake this time!"
"Wheel-to-wheel!"
"For the second consecutive time! Leclerc shows a tough stance in a wheel-to-wheel duel through the corner! Refusing to give up the position easily!"
"Leclerc perfectly defends his position! Beautiful!"
"Oh! God! A slide!"
A collective gasp swept through the stadium. Everyone clutched their chests, staring at the big screens. Their hearts almost leaped out of their throats, but they hit the brakes just as the scream was about to escape, freezing in place.
In the intense wheel-to-wheel clash, Car 22's racing line was squeezed to the absolute limit. At the apex of Turn 5, the left tires had crossed the white line. The braking point was slightly delayed, the front tires locked up slightly, and the car slid, losing the position.
Just as the car seemed about to spin out, amidst the rapidly changing chaos, Kai miraculously maintained the car's balance through continuous steering corrections. Unbelievably, he stayed glued to Car 16, exiting Turn 5 and entering the straight.
The gap hadn't fully opened, but the difference in exit speed gave Leclerc a brief moment of respite.
Inside the car, Kai let out a soft breath.
As expected, Interlagos lived up to its reputation. On the surface, it looked like Kai missed his braking point because of the rain and Leclerc's staunch defense of the racing line. In reality, it was the bumpy, uneven track surface that disrupted the car's dynamic balance, causing Kai to miss his braking point and thus the opportunity.
When the bumpy, mine-filled track of Interlagos met with rain, invisible variables abounded, adding extra challenges to the race.
Just now, Kai tried to seize the opportunity provided by the Safety Car to complete the overtake quickly, knowing how hard it is to pass in the rain. However, he underestimated the risks of Turn 5—downhill, hidden bumps, and now rain. He made a rookie mistake and regrettably missed his second overtaking opportunity.
Regret?
No need. These were valuable experiences, nutrients for continuous growth and breakthrough. He should be grateful for these special moments.
Just then, a roar erupted through the light breeze and fine rain—
From the direction of the main grandstand, an earth-shattering cheer shook the entire world, sending faint vibrations deep into the ground and up through the tires.
Was it... an earthquake?
Kai quickly got his answer. Not an earthquake. The rain had stopped, and the sun was coming out.
Heaven and hell are separated by a thin line.
The source of the cheers was the Mercedes garage! When the first ray of sunlight pierced the clouds, they weren't sure. But as the clouds gradually parted, revealing the blue sky, they couldn't hold back anymore, raising their arms and shouting in jubilation.
Toto Wolff had won this massive gamble.
Amidst the chaos and turmoil, in a mere 30 to 50 seconds, Wolff once again demonstrated his calmness and wisdom, making the right call.
The second shower was indeed just a passing shower. It had already begun to ease when the Safety Car pitted, and by the time racing resumed, the rain was barely visible to the naked eye.
In other words, Hamilton, Bottas, and Ricciardo—who had refused to pit for Intermediates—had won their bet. They now firmly held the initiative.
The reason was very straightforward.
True, Hamilton, Bottas, and Ricciardo hadn't pitted yet, and they eventually would have to. They couldn't run one set of tires to the end. Their Super Softs were on the verge of collapse, with almost zero grip left. Sooner or later, all three cars had to pit.
But the focus wasn't on them; it was on their rivals—
Intermediate tires wear out extremely quickly on a dry track. If pushed hard, the treads will wear flat in just a few laps, leaving practically no grip.
This light rain hadn't completely soaked the track. In three to five laps, a dry line would appear, and then the Intermediates would become a nightmare.
So, if the drivers on Intermediates chose to pit, they would pit along with Hamilton and the others. Everyone pits together, and when they come out, the order wouldn't change. Hamilton would still lead.
If the drivers on Intermediates didn't pit, after Hamilton and the others pitted, regardless of where they rejoined the track, they would have an absolute advantage over the severely degraded Intermediates. Interlagos isn't Monaco; overtaking opportunities are everywhere. It would only be a matter of time before Hamilton and the others reclaimed their positions and continued to lead.
A massive gamble. The higher the risk, the greater the reward.
The different split-second choices made by the Big Three seemed to place them at a crossroads of destiny, deciding the outcome of this race, and perhaps the season itself.
For Mercedes fans, this was great news. Fantastic news!
However, the Ferrari pit wall sank into silence.
Red Bull was slightly better off. By splitting strategies, Verstappen and Ricciardo's different approaches ensured they remained competitive. But Ferrari couldn't say the same.
At this thought, a lump formed in their throats: Vettel, oh Vettel. If only Vettel hadn't retired...
Unfortunately, there are no "ifs."
Nappi looked up at the live broadcast screen, searching for Car 22. It seemed the only way to calm his frantic heart.
He didn't even realize he was doing it, only catching on a beat later. He had pinned all his hopes for creating miracles and writing myths entirely on Kai. This season, Kai had achieved the impossible time and again, turning the tides. What about this time?
Could Kai continue the miracle? It seemed even God was siding with Mercedes, pronouncing their doom more than once.
If Kai heard this, he would say: Have you ever heard the saying, 'My fate is in my own hands, not heaven's'?
The rain stopped.
The sun quietly poked its head out again, mischievously enveloping all of Interlagos. Like a prankster, it watched the ants scrambling around the track in amusement.
Kai, who was formulating his third attack, immediately noticed the weather change. He instantly became wary of his tires. Overtaking Leclerc had to be put on hold; he couldn't be reckless.
Now, he needed to calculate, plan, and observe. Even taking risks requires a plan, otherwise, the race would completely slip through his fingers.
Kai didn't believe in God or fate. He believed in himself—
He might win or lose this race. All signs pointed to an overwhelming probability of defeat, but he didn't believe in numbers. He would fight with all his might to the bitter end, giving it his all until he was exhausted and broken, and then calmly accept whatever outcome arrived.
Shanghai, Hockenheim, Singapore—he had fought through battle after battle this way. He had long been ready to keep fighting.
The harder it gets, the higher his spirit soars.
His story is written by him alone.
So, he wouldn't panic because of a sudden rain shower, nor would he be discouraged because it suddenly stopped. They needed to focus on the next step.
The immediate problem was: Would the next heavy rain predicted by the forecast actually arrive? When? If it did, how heavy would it be? How long would it last?
Before the pit wall could provide feedback, he had to protect his set of Intermediates to preserve more options for upcoming strategies.
Clearly, this wasn't easy.
Generally, when the rain stops, drivers tend to run on the dry line, clearing it as quickly as possible to find grip and return the race to a normal state. That's exactly what Hamilton, Bottas, and Ricciardo were doing. The three of them zipped along similar racing lines at high speed.
Not just them, but Verstappen and Leclerc were doing much the same, not straying far from the conventional line.
By doing this, their Intermediates would suffer more wear. Now it was down to their management skills. Without exposing themselves to being overtaken, they could deviate from the racing line into the damp parts of the track to "search for water," using standing water to physically cool the tires and mitigate wear.
One hypothesis: if the heavy rain never arrived, they could wear the treads completely smooth and use the Intermediates as makeshift slick tires to run to the end.
However, Kai didn't think so.
He believed the heavy rain would come. Judging by the cumulonimbus clouds over the distant ridges, it would likely be a downpour.
He raised a hand to feel the wind direction and speed—the wind is picking up.
This was different from the first half of the race. The track, which had only experienced light breezes, now felt a distinct, strong wind. The rain clouds were moving toward the circuit, meaning the heavy rain might arrive earlier than expected. The weather radar should soon provide an answer.
Therefore, he needed to preserve the condition of his Intermediates.
Not just for grip. He needed the drainage grooves as intact as possible because he couldn't be sure if the rainfall would exceed the capacity of the Intermediates. If the rain was truly extreme, for safety reasons, they might have no choice but to pit for full Wets.
Kai wasn't prepared to gamble on that, because throughout the Brazilian Grand Prix weekend, Lady Luck seemed to refuse to stand behind him.
If the primary goal was to protect the tires, his entire driving style and approach had to be adjusted—slowing down the pace. The cost would be enduring pressure from behind. But for Kai, he wasn't worried about behind him, but the gap to the leading pack ahead.
Obviously, the top five cars were trying to establish a dry line, and Hamilton was slightly increasing his pace. If Kai slowed his rhythm now, the gap would quickly widen. For the rest of the race, his operating window, whether for tires or strategy, would be severely compressed.
Protect the tires while maintaining the pace—how?
The wet line. Just like Senna.
In rainy conditions, with water flowing and films of water sliding, the track conditions constantly change. Especially at Interlagos, the undulating surface adds numerous variables, meaning grip is always in flux.
Sticking to a single racing line, like Hamilton and the others, using speed and temperature to carve out a dry line—like the foolish old man moving the mountain—is one method. But like Senna, stepping out of the safe zone, the comfort zone, relying on absolute car feel to find the elusive, constantly shifting grip, constantly taking risks, constantly exploring, challenging the limits, thinking outside the box, and opening the door to a whole new world—that's another.
Right now, that's exactly what Kai was doing.
On one hand, dynamically searching for grip to keep up with the leading pack's pace; on the other, slowing tire wear in the damp patches and water films, accumulating minute but crucial advantages lap by lap, creating space for future strategies and duels.
A gamble? A risk?
Absolutely!
While others started looking for the dry line, he resolutely sprinted through the wet areas. It felt like—ahead lay a minefield. Hamilton and the others had clearly cleared a safe path, and Bottas and the rest were working together to ensure it remained safe, allowing everyone behind to pass smoothly. Yet Kai deliberately strayed into the vast, empty areas, dancing on a knife's edge.
Wasn't this absolute madness?
But it wasn't impulsive or reckless. It was adapting to a chaotic situation. When the gods of fate and the world's probabilities stand against you, you challenge your limits, trying to firmly grasp that 0.01% chance, creating miracles in the chaos and the cracks.
Miracles don't happen just by waiting.
Even for Kai, this was a crazy challenge, because the dry racing line was gradually emerging, leaving his operating space narrower and narrower.
One lap, two laps... three laps, four laps...
The race was slowly progressing in the direction Mercedes hoped for—until Lap 38, Kai's fifth lap dancing on the knife's edge. Without warning, the raindrops fell.
On the track, Kai noticed it immediately.
However, when Pierre heard Kai's radio feedback, he was completely unaware. Leaning out from the pit wall, the sun was still shining. A beat later, Pierre realized he was looking the wrong way—not south, but north.
In less than 15 or 20 seconds, layers of cumulonimbus clouds rolled back in, blotting out the sun and sky. The sky instantly went dark. Torrential rain poured down, lightning flashed, thunder roared. In a daze, it felt like a hole had opened in the sky, a waterfall cascading down, a spectacular sight of water plunging three thousand feet.
It all happened too fast, changing in an instant, like opening floodgates, instantly flooding the track—no exaggeration!
The dry line Hamilton and the others had worked so hard to create vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye. It wasn't just a film of water; standing water accumulated rapidly. The track's drainage system couldn't clear the rainwater instantly. In lower-lying areas, drivers could already experience the sensation of wading across a river.
Splash!
Water mist sprayed. On the straights, the Intermediates kicked up roosters of water that erupted like fountains, creating a curtain of water. They roared past. Incredibly, the sound of water and rain drowned out the engine noise. In just a short while, even their chests felt like they were filling with water.
Leclerc was caught completely off guard. Although he had been mentally prepared for rain, perhaps heavy rain, the sudden, overwhelming downpour still sent all cars on track into a panic. Vision blurred instantly, visibility shrinking rapidly.
Just then, without warning, a bright flash of red emerged in his left rearview mirror, piercing the water mist, lunging forward.
The sky was dark, the sun and moon obscured. The world was a chaotic mess.
Thick, dark clouds completely blocked the sky's light, making it airtight. A second ago, it was a lazy afternoon; now, dusk had fallen. The pervasive water mist draped a green veil over their vision. Faint, intermittent light refracted through the flowing water, making everything blurry, like a mirage. Even staring hard into the distance, one could only see hazy silhouettes.
The rumbling sound of rain and water, mixed with the roaring engines, relentlessly bombarded them. Hearts danced wildly on a knife's edge, feeling as if they could be smashed to pieces at any moment. The vibrations from the tires, suspension, and chassis coursed through their bodies like electric currents, causing everyone to tense up involuntarily—
Every step was perilous!
No one was exempt!
Leclerc could barely see the track, relying entirely on instinct and intuition to navigate, speeding through the water currents, trying to keep moving forward. There was no racing line to speak of anymore. He just hoped he wouldn't veer off the track and get stuck in the gravel trap.
Everything was chaos, instantly overturned. All rules and experience were thrown out the window, churning the world upside down like a passing hurricane.
And they were just ants, using all their strength to barely cling to the ground and survive, silently praying they could make it through this devastating disaster.
This wasn't a race; it was survival!
Then, a streak of light pierced through, rolling with billowing steam and roaring engines, tearing open the suffocating air, advancing at full speed. Amidst the boundless gray haze, that vibrant, bright red ignited the whole world like a flame. The roaring engine exploded continuously as it whizzed past. Raindrops briefly suspended in mid-air, pierced by a flash of lightning, illuminating the space for an instant.
Breaking out of the void!
Leclerc froze, his breath caught in his throat. Before he could even react, he saw Car 22 roaring past on the left side of the straight, from far to near, and then gone.
No pause, no hesitation, the engine noise rolling with the water waves and speeding away.
Leclerc: ...
A breath stuck in his chest. No time or space to react, completely caught off guard. Only then did he realize that after exiting Turn 3 and entering the straight, Turn 4 was just ahead. Considering the topography of Turns 4 and 5, he reflexively stayed toward the outside of the track, aiming for a wider entry angle to avoid severe cornering that could lead to a slide, or spinning out on his own without any attacking or defending pressure.
Consequently, the space on the right side of the straight was left wide open.
No defense whatsoever.
To be precise, Leclerc didn't even have time to consider Kai. This heavy rain came too fast, too fierce, instantly flooding his entire brain.
But!
In Kai's eyes, was this an overtaking opportunity?
The point was, could Kai even see the track and the corners? Did he have a death wish?
His thoughts instantly congealed.
Shock and surprise all turned into a smile on his lips. Leclerc offered a wry smile, but genuinely cheered for Kai. That champion's heart, constantly beating, constantly pounding, illuminated the path for Leclerc to keep moving forward.
Go, mate, go! Run relentlessly toward the championship.
Splash, splash! The water curtain shattered!
Vroom, vroom! The engines roared!
In the dizzying chaos and noise, that flash of Ferrari red shot out like an arrow. Everything else paled in comparison. It was as if the world was in black and white, and only that streak of red was moving, drawing all eyes and heartbeats.
"Kai Zhizhou!"
"Pulls out! Inside line! Brakes!"
"An extreme art of dancing on a tightrope, yet so elegant, so dashing! Leclerc completely didn't expect this, couldn't even mount an effective defense! The door is wide open, leaving the spotlight and the stage entirely to Kai!"
"Beautiful!"
"Perfectly through Turn 4! Kai has completely left Leclerc behind!"
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Kai Zhizhou has arrived!"
Gasp!
Hearts exploded!
Only now did the broadcast and the main grandstand finally snap back to reality. Amidst the dizzying chaos, they witnessed a spectacular moment of racing!
"Heavy rain arrives! Sudden weather change! Interlagos once again shows its other face—intense and unrestrained, flamboyant and noisy, overturning the race without warning! All drivers are prostrate at its feet, cautious and shivering! The FIA barely had time to react and are currently debating whether to deploy the Safety Car or even a Red Flag!"
"However, Kai Zhizhou doesn't think so! In his eyes, this is an opportunity! An opportunity to turn the tide, to gain an advantage! An opportunity to fight for the championship!"
"And so, he strikes!"
"Crisp and clean driving, tearing open a gap amidst crisis and risk, completing the overtake without any difficulty. When the storm hits, everyone sounds the alarm, but Kai is different. He opens his arms to embrace this storm, using actual actions to tell people he is the Son of the Storm!"
A shiver, a tingle. Interlagos was completely swept into the storm.
The audience in the main grandstand no longer cared about anything else, even ignoring the heavy rain. They stood up, clutching their heads, cheering and jumping, pumping their fists at the sky. The instantly erupted energy confronted the storm with destructive force.
Ah!
Nappi clenched his fists and roared, his face flushed red as he faced the storm, announcing his brilliant arrival to the Goddess of Fate with a firmer, tougher stance!
Ahhhh!
The entire Ferrari pit lane completely boiled over, roaring, growling, and shouting to their hearts' content. With their insignificant strength, they stood firmly behind Kai—they refused to bow their heads!
Hamilton, Bottas, Ricciardo, Verstappen, and then... Kai. The young, aggressive Ferrari rookie was steadily closing in on the podium. The 2018 season championship battle was far from over.
Next up, standing before him were the direct rivals from the Big Three!
The winds of change arrived suddenly. Three thousand seconds ago, Mercedes was cheering, Wolff's massive gamble a success, giving them a firm grip on the championship fight. But now, the order in the entire pit lane was thrown into chaos.
The noise and boiling heat from the neighboring Ferrari pit lane pressed heavily on the chests of the Mercedes crew. Although some clapped and cheered to boost morale, it ultimately felt half-hearted and distracted.
They were all paying attention, closely watching the weather that could change at any moment—
Wolff's mind raced. The plan had been disrupted again!
Actually, Mercedes had fully grasped the initiative. Hamilton and Bottas's Super Softs had already run 35 laps. If it weren't for the rain and the Safety Car interruptions, they should have pitted long ago.
If not for this heavy rain, with the track dry, Hamilton could have pushed his tires to the absolute limit, widening the gap as much as possible to build a pit stop window. With the high efficiency of the Mercedes pit crew, Hamilton could have emerged from the pits still in the lead.
The championship would have been in the bag.
But the heavy rain came, throwing the entire plan out the window, because the situation going forward was entirely different.
Pitting, of course, was mandatory. But choosing tires based on the weather was a puzzle.
Heavy rain. How long would it last? Would this level of rain just be for a short while, or until the end of the race? If the rain subsequently eased but continued, or continued for a while and then stopped like the previous two showers, clearing up completely?
Depending on the situation, the choice between Intermediates and full Wets could be completely different, and this would decide the course of the race. Originally, Verstappen and Kai's risky choice to switch to Intermediates was a failed gamble, but now the situation had instantly reversed—and of all things, Kai had just overtaken Leclerc!
Damn it!
Wolff secretly cursed. Kai again. Still Kai. That haunting Kai. That guy is relentless!
He had clearly sensed the opportunity, finding a crack in the chaotic situation, and decisively risked overtaking Leclerc, pointing his sword at Mercedes, openly coveting the championship Hamilton already had in his grasp!
And this heavy rain breaking the deadlock really brought hope for Kai. If Mercedes chose the wrong tires now, the championship might really change hands. After all, Kai had proven this more than once or twice this season!
If he had been more decisive last year, wouldn't they have avoided these predicaments today?
A thought popped up, but Wolff immediately realized he was getting obsessed. Right now, what he needed least was "if only." He needed to be calm.
Adjusting his breathing, Wolff regained his rationality. The heavy rain is here. Regret is useless. The key now is Intermediates or full Wets?
"Lewis, what's the condition now?" Wolff immediately contacted his star driver.
"Hey, mate. This track is an absolute disaster. Completely undriveable." The usually calm Hamilton offered a rare complaint. He had no idea what was happening behind him; he was just running at his own pace. But these 35-lap-old Super Softs were an absolute disaster.
Even the cleverest housewife can't cook without rice!
Even Hamilton couldn't squeeze speed out of Super Softs with zero grip. Driving on a track pounded by heavy rain was no different from swimming.
Wolff wasn't entirely surprised by this answer. His mind raced. "Do you think the heavy rain will continue? Are you ready for full Wets?"
Strategy is formulated by the pit wall, but they must listen to the driver's feedback.
Especially Hamilton.
"I don't know. The rain clouds are too thick. I can't see any signs of change," Hamilton said truthfully. Visibility on the track was too low; he couldn't even see clearly 15 meters ahead, let alone predict the weather.
Rain. The key to survival.
If they switched to full Wets now, and the rain subsequently eased or stopped, they would be handing the Brazilian Grand Prix victory over on a silver platter.
If they switched to Intermediates now, but the rain didn't let up, they would have no advantage. The two tiger cubs, Verstappen and Kai, wouldn't just sit idly by.
In a flash, Wolff made a decision. "Lewis, can you hold on out there for a little bit? Let us assess the weather trend and get back to you."
"Copy that," Hamilton responded crisply.
Torrential rain, overturning the entire situation.
But the Mercedes pit wall didn't panic and react hastily. They remained calm and composed. Right now, they weren't just fighting their opponents, they were fighting the weather. The suspense over the outcome seemed to have returned.
This scene fell into the eyes of the pit lane.
Horner was observing Wolff, and Arrivabene was doing the same, trying to spy on the race leader's every move through the overwhelming rain and mist.
Pierre realized immediately. "Kai, Mercedes is waiting out the rain."
Waiting. Maybe the rain gets heavier, maybe it gets lighter, maybe nothing changes. But Wolff chose caution, waiting to collect more data before making a decision—
They are the leaders, in a defensive posture. As long as they don't make mistakes themselves, the advantage and initiative remain in their hands.
"Okay. That's very Toto," Kai wasn't surprised at all.
The heavy rain battered his helmet. Moisture seeped under the tear-offs on his visor. Kai simply ripped all the tear-offs off in one go. But the world didn't get any clearer. Frantic raindrops flew at him. Like clouds, like mist, half-asleep, half-awake. Interlagos looked like a fairyland.
In these conditions, never mind racing cars, even driving normally was incredibly difficult.
The slightest lack of attention—aquaplaning, spinning, hitting the wall—and you're out before you can even gasp.
Therefore, the Safety Car could be deployed at any moment. If it was severe enough, Race Control would issue a red flag to stop the race. In Kai's view, this was also part of Mercedes' plan.
They weren't just observing the rain; they were waiting for an accident. Whether it was a Safety Car or a red flag, Mercedes could secure a pit stop window.
"What's my gap to the car ahead?" Kai asked. He couldn't trust his eyes right now; visual judgment was inaccurate in the heavy rain.
First, there was a Safety Car, compressing the gaps; then came the heavy rain. To avoid rear-ending each other, the cars spaced out again. Currently, track positions couldn't be judged by common sense.
Pierre understood immediately. Despite his tension, he held his ground and calmly relayed the information. "Verstappen, 3.6; Ricciardo, 5.1; Bottas, 6.9; Hamilton, 11.7."
The gaps weren't equal, indicating different rhythms.
"Is Ricciardo chasing Bottas, or is Bottas slowing down to defend?" Kai noticed Hamilton's commanding lead.
"Both," Pierre said. The difference was obvious from the lap times. Bottas's lap times had dropped significantly.
Kai grasped the key point. "Does this mean Mercedes is starting to play it safe?"
During the last shower, Mercedes refused to play it safe. Both Hamilton and Bottas stayed out on track. But in this shower, Bottas slowed down to defend against Ricciardo with all his might—or more accurately, to defend against Verstappen, who was on a different tire strategy behind Ricciardo. Did this mean Mercedes was implementing split strategies for their two drivers to ensure Hamilton's championship?
Of course, there were other possibilities. For instance, Bottas might be slowing down on his own, being cautious in the heavy rain, having nothing to do with team orders.
Splash, splash. The entire sky seemed to have collapsed. Heavy rain poured down. The roar came not only from above but also surged beneath the car. The car's grip had long since vanished into the clouds. Every car was now just struggling, trying to survive this downpour.
It was so noisy outside, but inside the cockpit, Kai's mind was a sea of tranquility.
Steady, calm. He could clearly feel his own heartbeat amidst the noise.
Thump! Thump!
Kai spoke. "Pierre, I'm going to do something crazy."
Pierre froze. "What?"
Kai grinned. "Shh! Don't let a third person hear."
Pierre: ...
It wasn't just him. The entire Ferrari pit wall heard the voice coming over the radio, so clear, so bright, like a ray of dawn tearing through the darkness. Only then did they realize they had unconsciously been holding their breath.
However, no one spoke. Everyone held their breath, staring unblinkingly at the live broadcast screens.
On the track, Car 22 began to push!
After overtaking Leclerc, Kai wasn't conservative. He continued to push. While everyone else was struggling just to survive in the chaos and turmoil, this fearless, newborn calf launched a pursuit.
And so, this scene appeared on the broadcast. The only Ferrari red wasn't being conservative, refusing to just fight for survival. Instead, it started wandering around the track.
At first glance, one might think Kai was driving drunk. If a traffic cop pulled him over for a breathalyzer right now, it would be a guaranteed fail, because Kai's racing line was completely erratic, no different from a beginner's.
But Brundle instantly held his breath, staring unblinkingly at Car 22. He knew Kai couldn't be drunk, and he couldn't be crazy. So the scene unfolding before them meant—
"Ayrton Senna!"