On the fourth day of Luca's recovery, he woke to the soft chi of his system. However, just like the past three days, there was no instant Daily Routine notification that followed.
Slowly, he sat up, mindful of the sharp twinge in his side—a constant reminder of his broken rib. He had been sleeping on a large master bed, its fra creaking softly under his weight as he carefully swung his legs over the edge.
"Argh! Damn it," Luca hissed as a sudden stab of pain shot through his side. The slight twist of his abdon from the movent had aggravated his rib, forcing him to pause and steady his breathing.
It took him a mont to gather himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before glancing at the bedside clock. 7:09 AM. He sighed, already dreading how long his fourth day of rest would feel. The previous three had been unending—slow, groggy, and tedious.
Luca's room bore the appearance of a high-end hotel suite, but it wasn't actually a hotel. The room was still located within the sa facility that had hosted Trampos Racing during the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. This specialized building, now eerily quiet, accommodated only him and the dical team overseeing his recovery—Mr. Amrmann and his crew.
The rest of the Trampos Racing team had departed for Berlin two days ago.
Before their departure, nearly everyone had co to visit him multiple tis. McCauley and the other engineers had been especially attentive, stopping by whenever they could. But despite their best efforts, their visits carried an undeniable heaviness, an unspoken sadness that Luca couldn't ignore.
The entire team wore their emotions on their sleeves, struggling to muster polite smiles. Ansel, in particular, had completely withdrawn. Luca had been told that his teammate had hardly spoken to anyone—if he had spoken at all. When the team arrived in Berlin, McCauley called Luca with the sa grim update.
Luca shook his head, frustration creeping in. Even his repeated calls to Ansel had gone unanswered.
What the hell was going through his teammate's mind?
After all, Ansel's mistake had cost the team 45 points which was a critical buffer that would have extended their lead. To make matters worse, it had inflicted a short-term injury on Luca himself and attracted a heavy penalty on Ansel. Yet, Ansel remained silent, leaving Luca to speculate endlessly.
The entire Trampos team had been quiet, even Mr. Grant. Luca couldn't help but ponder the reasons behind this tension, beyond just the loss of their 45 points.
Foremost in everyone's mind, he was certain, was the reality that things would never return to the way they had been before the incident. No motorsport crew could realistically imagine him and Ansel working together again after such an incident. Intra-team breakdowns like this rarely nded. More often than not, they led to drivers going their separate ways—through transfers, reassignnt, or in the worst cases... outright releases.
The second reason for the gloom, Luca figured, was his injury. As Player A, he was the cornerstone of Trampos Racing—their best driver and a surefire contender for Formula 2 once he clinched the championship. But now, with his injury ruling him out of the incoming Qatar Grand Prix, Mr. Grant and Ms. Vallotton were left with no choice but to field Erik Haas to pair with Ansel, who, to make matters worse, would be starting at the back of the grid!
Without a doubt, Trampos would lose their lead. Erik Haas had never finished higher than P5 in a Featured Race throughout his entire career, and expecting Ansel to climb from P30 to the top ranks of the leaderboard against such fierce competition was, frankly, unrealistic. Luca's calculations suggested that, at best, Trampos would end the Qatari Grand Prix with just 4 to 8 points—a catastrophic drop.
What made this situation almost laughable was that Trampos Racing still held the championship lead heading into the 10th round of the season. Bueseno Velocità Jnr, sitting in second place, couldn't close the gap even with Luca and Ansel's double DNFs. The gap had been that significant.
Still, Luca couldn't recall the exact figures. He grabbed his phone to double-check.
PROVISIONAL TEAMS' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.
Position | Team | Points
-----------------------------------------
1. | Trampos Racing | 241
2. | Bueseno Velocità Jnr. | 215
3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 171
4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 130
5. | Retona Racing | 65
A 26-point lead over Bueseno Velocità Jnr was almost guaranteed to collapse in Qatar. Luca took so solace in knowing that Squadra Corse Jnr would now shift their focus toward putting pressure on Velocità Jnr. With Max Addams and Dani Walding now competing for the top spots, their tactics would likely beco more balanced, rather than targeting Trampos Racing exclusively. The heightened competition would force them to spread their offense across the board.
Luca powered off his phone and set it down, exhaling deeply as he rubbed his temples. The race for the championship was turning into a grueling battle, and he couldn't help but feel the weight of it pressing down on him. The Qatari Grand Prix lood large on the horizon, and after that, only two more races remained—scheduled for October and November. Those final races, the defining Grand and ga Prix, would determine the ultimate champions of the season.
Knock! Knock!
The soft rapping on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Luca glanced at the sleek, well-crafted door where the sound had co from.
"I'm coming," he called, carefully pushing himself to his feet after minutes of deep reflection.
He moved to the cloth hanger, grabbing his top and pulling it over his head before making his way to the door. His steps were filled with fatigue, and his side still ached. Luca could only imagine how the real pain was supposed to be considering his Attributes drastically reduced its effect.
Luca opened the door to be greeted by the sight of Caitlyn, the head nurse. She was dressed in a casual nightgown like everyone else, not like catering for Luca needed a full dical outfit and instrunts.
Caitlyn, shorter than most of the nurses she managed, with her blonde hair and striking blue eyes, gave Luca a charming smile as she tilted her head. "Big man. Good morning," she greeted him warmly. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm doing fine. And you?" Luca responded with a faint smile.
"Great, thanks," Caitlyn said, stepping a little closer. "Any new pains or changes?" She motioned for him to lift his top.
Luca obliged, exposing the bandages wrapped around his torso. "Nope. I'm getting better; I can feel it."
"Good to hear," Caitlyn said with a nod, carefully inspecting the dressing before stepping back. "By the way, your team's here. They want to have breakfast with you. You should join them."
Luca smiled, thanking her. He already knew who this team was, and he was glad they had co to see him. He had been feeling lonely.
Once Caitlyn walked away, he turned back inside to brush his teeth, slipping on a pair of flip-flops before stepping out into the grandiose hallway.
Luca navigated his way to the dining, stopping a tre to its entrance when he began to hear whispers coming from the dining tables. He strained his ears, trying to catch the silent words of Mallow and Sara, but he couldn't co up with anything. "What are you guys talking about?" Luca asked, revealing himself to Mallow and Sara, who were seated at one of the round dining tables in the large, empty dining. "And good morning too."
Startled, Sara unintentionally replied Luca's greeting with a loud voice. "How are you?" she asked, studying Luca's step as he walked toward their table and picked a chair.
"I'm doing fine," Luca replied, placing a hand on the table and the other on the back of a chair. Gently, he slid into the seat, exhaling softly as he settled in.
Mallow, reclining lazily with his legs crossed, plucked a berry from the fruit bowl and nibbled on it. "You look like you're heartbroken," he remarked. "I keep telling you to ease up on thinking about the track. Keep your mind healthy—and your heart even healthier."
"Yes, sire," Luca mock-saluted.
Mallow smirked, then turned to Sara. "So, who'll tell him?"
Sara shrugged.
"Tell what? What were you guys whispering about? Good news? Bad news?"
"No, no, no, it's good news," Sara assured, her tone filled with excitent. "We were just waiting for the perfect mont to tell you."
Luca began helping himself with the fruits on the table. He had this soft headache that was there but wasn't surfacing, and a bite into the fruits seed to strengthen its existence.
"Is it the new house?" he guessed, glancing between them. "You guys finalized everything?"
Mallow and Sara exchanged surprised glances.
"How did you guess that correctly?" they both asked at the sa ti.
Luca shrugged. "What other good news could there be right now? Unless I suddenly have a magically healed rib," he said, raising an eyebrow before turning to Mallow. "Besides, you flew back to Berlin and returned in just four days. Anyone with half a brain would figure it out."
Mallow scoffed under his breath. "Smart ass," he muttered. Then, leaning down, he rummaged through a bag under his chair and pulled out a thick file. With a smirk, he slid it across the table to Luca.
"Here," Mallow said. "I figured you'd want to see the official docunts for your property."
Nice!
Luca picked up the file, scanning the most important details.
Property Details:
Owner: Luca Rennick
Location: Am Fischtal 27, Dahlem, 14195 Berlin, Germany
Structure: Modern house
Ownership Rights: Sole Proprietor, Motorsport Driver– Luca Rennick
Legal Formalities: Fully completed and notarized
Purchase Breakdown:
Property Cost: €38,000,000
Taxes & Fees: €14,000,000 (€7,000,000)
Total Paid: €21,000,000 Find more to read at empire
Luca frowned slightly as he looked up at Mallow and Sara.
"I thought you said the house was worth forty million dollars? I can see we only paid half of it."
Mallow popped another grape into his mouth. "The file is for you to keep, and the transaction is for us to know. It's a complicated process, and we don't have ti to explain right now."
Sara scoffed. "Don't mind him, Luca. It was a negotiation-heavy purchase. Think of it as us securing the property through a partial equity transaction, which will beco permanent over ti," she clarified.
"I see," Luca murmured, closing the file and handing it to Sara. She'd keep the original while he would get a photocopy.
"So, I officially own property now?"
"Yes, you do," they both confird.
"In fact, we've already started making arrangents to move into the house," Mallow added. "By the ti we get back to Berlin, we'll just need to move your personal stuff and fine-tune the setup to fit Hawthorne's requirents. Any preferences? Furniture colors? Styling? Anything specific?"
Luca shrugged. The house had looked perfect during the tour, and since it was going to be furnished in Hawthorne's signature style, he trusted their judgnt.
"By the way," Luca said, leaning forward, "Mrs. Hawthorne called yesterday. She wanted to check on and even said a short prayer over the phone. I didn't know she was that religious."
"Well, let's hope her prayer works and that we can still benefit from the contract with her," Mallow replied dryly. "You do realize we made nothing from the last race because of the crash, right?"
Luca groaned, sinking back into his chair. His side twinged, and for a mont, he considered punching his own ribs, frustrated with what his teammate had done to him.
"It's alright, chap," Mallow said, tapping Luca's arm. "You'll get stronger, and we'll get stronger too."
Sara piped up, "How about a nice open house party when we're back in Berlin?"
Mallow scoffed. "And who's supposed to attend? The teammate who nearly wrecked his career? Or the Trampos crew walking around like ghosts these days?"
Luca sighed. "Yeah, not the best timing. I think I'll just move in quietly, settle down as fast as possible, and train with Amir every day until I'm cleared for the track."
[Ding!]
[System has blocked Thursday's Daily Quest notification!]
[Ding!]
[System advises host to take morning dication before 8:30 AM.]
"We aren't gonna eat just fruits, are we?" Luca asked.
"Of course not," Sara replied, standing up. "Let get sothing."
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