It was a bright afternoon in Milan at Jimmy Damgaard’s million-dollar mansion. While nude girls partied at the pool downstairs, he was in his snooker room, watching sothing on a tablet. F1 comntary echoed from the audio. It was clear he was watching a replay.
In a way, Jimmy was just like Luca. But unlike Luca who moved on easily, Jimmy often stayed trapped in scenarios. Again and again, Luigi’s last-minute overtake in Shanghai filled the screen, nearly a hundred tis. And each ti, he bit the stem of his finger whenever the W12 lunged past.
"How could I just... let him??" he hissed.
Monts later, soone stepped in with one of the cues. When he saw Jimmy still hooked over the Chinese GP, he sighed. Jimmy sighed back before the tablet was reluctantly put away.
"But I drove well, right?" Jimmy said. "P2 is great. Aweso even. And–hey–finishing ahead of Luca is a W if nothing else, yeah?"
On the outside, Jimmy Damgaard was a resilient beast. But to his PT and friends, he was just Insecure Jimmy who always fished for reassurance from his most trusted.
"You’re not going anywhere, man," his friend said conclusively. "Davide’s the liability to the team, not you. Don’t let this get in your head."
It was good advice, but Jimmy Damgaard would still be Jimmy Damgaard.
anwhile, sowhere else in the sa big city, Grand Prix winner, Antonio Luigi had already reconvened with his team. Their return was unusually fast. Sa with Iberia and Nordvind, but these were teams accustod to scrambling after shortcomings. As for the winners, they drew more notice.
But Squadra Corse kept their operations private from the public caras, etings unannounced, and statents withheld for the ti being. Confidential activities were normal in the ga, but this ti around, Squadra Corse utilized them as a ans to keep their sche intimate.
In a lab building in the facility, Luigi erged from a biochanical analysis room, having completed performance tests. He sat on a bench to rest, but monts later, a senior crew mber approached and called for his attention. Luigi was expecting this, so he followed him out.
They walked along the service path flanked by maintenance infrastructure, until they reached a wide, solid structure made of tal alone.
Inside, high-level IT staff and key managerial figures were waiting, occupying workstations and seats. Luigi and the senior crew mber smoothly joined the room, a purpose in sight.
After a brief orientation and debriefing from the departnt head, they comnced with whiteboard projections before simple analytical, and then dense teletry data.
The group made good progress within a surprisingly short period, and the objective was essentially a success.
Throughout it all, Luigi smiled proudly at intervals. He was happy. Beyond the performance gains this would bring, there was a peculiar thrill in doing wrong and getting away with it, and the entirety of Squadra Corse indulged without sha.
Now, he couldn’t wait to pound Luca into the ground with this advantage.
When the session concluded, Luigi stood and clapped, congratulating no one in particular but the ideal of the team itself and everyone who had bought into it. He caught Marko’s eye and smiled like a seasoned Machiavellian, before sitting back down to collect a copy of the performance pad.
Squadra Corse had acquired part of Trampos’ internal training regin for Luca, including simulator routines and biotric pacing models. They even managed to lay their hands on CCTV footage of Luca in training action.
All dia were stolen and repurposed.
And now, they were going to borrow this insight and integrate it for the betternt of their own drivers.
Squadra Corse had never been clean, and history proved they never intended to be.
~~~~~~~
Unfortunately for Trampos and for Luca, they had no inkling of the illicit maneuvers by their rivals, and how the acts could translate into advantage on the track.
The German team was yet to regroup, so Luca’s departure to the UK was approved by the board without any delay. His return was expected to still be within the week, aning he wouldn’t be in London for long.
Once Luca touched down in London, rest was a luxury he couldn’t afford. From the terminal, he moved to York Hall for a boxing match Vance had suggested he attend.
The night felt urban and wild. It was strange and dizzying after weeks of circuits and strategy. When he appeared at the seats, a recognition announcent broadcast his presence. Applause and cheers rang out with phones lifted high to catch the invincible Luca Rennick.
Sadly, he didn’t stay till the end before he left.
Ring. Ring.
In the brand-new morning, the sound of Luca’s alarm was swallowed by rolling thunder and the steady patter of rain outside the hotel. He was already awake anyway because of his internal clock that was used to the routine.
Wrapped in a hoodie, he sipped a hot cup of chocolate, Aba stared down at the wet streets and cluster of umbrellas. Rain in London at this ti of year wasn’t a surprise. The people welcod it as the cool air felt like rcy in the heat of sumr.
Before moving to the gym in the suite, Luca summoned the System with good reason. He had mulled it over through the night, and he decided he would have to make so extre changes to match the leap he took in the Administrative Layer.
Raising skill ceilings and accelerating point gain ant his body would now be the limiting factor. If he wanted to survive what he’d built, his physiology had to harden, evolve, and keep evolving without pause.
[Request Detected: Advanced Self-Training Adjustnt]
[Loading Protocol: Diamond-Level Training Sche]
[Warning: Diamond-Level Training significantly increases physical stress and failure risk. Proceeding may result in prolonged fatigue, cellular strain, and irreversible adaptation.]
[Confirm?]
The warning was a kind of reassurance to Luca that this was the right move. So, he confird it, thrilled at the thought of what this protocol would do. But for now, he would continue his regular regin and begin the real work when back in Berlin.
Luca didn’t know that this little change had just countered half of Squadra Corse’s clandestine advantage.
A fresh, uncompromised training frawork, might just create the in-race contrast needed to level the field again.
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