At ten thirty in the evening, the welcome party finally ended.
Julian said his goodbyes to Sander and headed back to his apartment alone.
The night sky over the Netherlands was pitch black.
A cool breeze drifted through the half open window, bringing a slight chill into the room.
After washing up, Julian changed into a loose set of pajamas and lay in bed.
He pulled out his phone and opened Wild Rift.
In his friends list, Toby’s avatar was still online.
Julian checked the time.
It was ten thirty three in the Netherlands, which meant it was three thirty in the morning on the East Coast.
Despite the six hour time difference, his friend was still awake.
He sent a quick message.
“Queue up?”
The reply was instant.
“Queue up.”
Toby was Julian’s high school desk mate.
They had sat together since their freshman year and were close enough to steal food from each other’s plates.
They formed a party.
Toby’s voice came through the earpiece, laced with surprise.
“No way!
Julian!
You’re actually alive!
I thought the Dutch locals dragged you out for a drinking binge!”
“Nope, the party ended hours ago,” Julian said while picking his champion.
“Besides, I can’t drink anyway.
I just stick to soda.”
“Good to know.” Toby instantly locked in Alistar.
“Hurry up and start.
I’m carrying you tonight!”
“Got it.”
The game loaded and the match began.
Julian picked Lee Sin.
On the loading screen, his ping showed a hundred and three.
“A hundred and three ping,” Julian muttered, frowning.
“This Dutch internet is trash.”
The game started.
Julian’s Lee Sin was noticeably slower at clearing the jungle than usual.
His wall hops occasionally stuttered, as if an invisible force was tugging at his character.
Even with the lag, his macro play was solid.
By the eight minute mark, he was nearly eight hundred gold ahead of the enemy jungler.
But then things went wrong during the first dragon fight.
Toby’s Alistar flashed in and knocked up three enemies.
Julian’s Lee Sin flanked from the side.
He used his first skill to launch the enemy marksman and was about to unleash his ultimate.
Then the screen froze.
It wasn’t a complete crash.
The character animations just turned into a slideshow.
By the time the screen recovered, Lee Sin’s corpse was already on the ground.
“Julian, use your ultimate!” Toby’s voice exploded through the phone, carrying the manic energy of a late night gamer.
“I knocked up three of them!
Where is your ult?”
Julian coughed awkwardly.
“My bad.
The internet lagged.
The connection here is terrible.
My ping is over a hundred.”
“You can still play on a hundred ping.
You’re just throwing.”
“You’re the one throwing.”
He respawned and went back to farming.
During the second dragon fight, Julian finally used his ultimate.
But the enemy Malzahar was hiding in the bushes waiting for him.
The moment Julian engaged, Malzahar hit him with his suppression ultimate.
Toby’s shield didn’t go off in time.
Lee Sin died again.
Toby sighed in deep disappointment.
“Man, your mechanics are off today.
Usually your Lee Sin carries the whole game.
Today you’re playing like you’re drunk.
Didn’t you say you weren’t drinking?”
Julian didn’t answer.
He guided his respawned Lee Sin to the blue buff.
He pressed his summoner spell to smite it.
The buff had a sliver of health left, but the enemy Xerath fired a massive rocket from across the map and stole it.
Toby went silent.
Julian went silent.
“Ping is a hundred and three,” Julian typed.
Toby definitely didn’t buy that excuse.
But instead of complaining about the game, Toby shifted the topic.
Toby’s biggest trait was his jumping train of thought.
One second he was yelling about your bad gameplay, and the next he was pondering the meaning of life.
“Julian, be honest.
Aren’t you tired?”
“What?”
“I’m asking if you’re tired,” Toby said, his tone turning serious.
“Everyone else is at home playing games, ordering takeout, and binge watching shows.
You flew all the way to the Netherlands to drive an F2 car.
Aren’t you exhausted?”
Julian’s Lee Sin was sneaking through the bottom lane.
His fingers swiped across the screen, but his expression remained unchanged.
“Not tired.
I’ve been driving karts since I was six.
It’s just normal for me.
I tried their simulator today.
It was pretty fun.
Actually better than the one at my house.
I haven’t driven the real car yet, though.”
Toby was quiet for a few seconds.
His Alistar stood completely still in the river, seemingly lost in thought.
“I don’t know if I should be jealous or impressed.
Good thing my dad isn’t a racing fan and I have zero talent.
Playing games is fine for me.
I wouldn’t survive a single day in your shoes.”
Julian smiled slightly.
He was about to reply as he guided his character toward the blue buff.
He pressed the smite button.
The exact moment the blue buff died, a pale blue light suddenly exploded in front of Julian’s eyes.
His first thought was that his phone screen was broken.
[Ding!
Detecting that the host has officially become a professional F2 driver.
Binding conditions met.]
[Apex Racing System is activating…]
Julian’s finger froze.
What was this?
He blinked, thinking he was hallucinating from lack of sleep.
But the translucent screen remained clearly floating in front of him.
The text on it kept scrolling.
[Host Information Panel]
Name: Julian Vance
Age: 17
Physical Conditioning: 56 (Every 1 hour of targeted physical training adds 5 proficiency.
0/100)
Endurance Consistency: 61 (Every 1 hour of simulator long race mode adds 5.
Every 1 hour of real car wet weather driving adds 30.
0/200)
Wet Weather Pace: 23 (Every 1 hour of simulator wet mode adds 5.
Every 1 hour of real car wet weather driving adds 30.
0/100)
Race Starts: 45 (Simulator static launch practice adds 5.
Real race start without losing position adds 30.
0/100)
Overtaking Technique: 48 (Simulator successful overtake against equal AI adds 2.
Real race overtake adds 10 per car.
0/100)
Defensive Driving: 67 (Simulator successful defense for 1 lap against equal AI adds 2.
Real race successful defense adds 5.
0/200)
Tire Preservation: 91 (Already reached the pinnacle.
Cannot be improved through practice.
0/2000)
[System Note: Reaching maximum proficiency in any attribute will award one attribute point.]
[Main Quest Issued: Score points in the 2023 F2 Championship.
For every 1 point scored, reward 5 free proficiency points.
Free proficiency points can be allocated to any attribute’s proficiency slot.]
[Wish you a peak career.]
Toby’s anxious voice blared from the earpiece.
“Julian!
What are you doing?
The jungle monster is killing you!”
Julian snapped back to reality and quickly pressed smite, securing the low health blue buff.
But his mind was no longer in the game.
He mindlessly ran his character around the map while repeatedly calling out to the so called Apex Racing System in his mind.
When the translucent screen appeared again, he finally believed it.
It was real.
Not a hallucination.
He had actually bound to something called the Apex Racing System.
“Hey!
Julian!
What are you even doing?” Toby’s voice sounded on the verge of a breakdown.
“You’ve fed them three kills!
They’re pushing our base!”
“Sorry, I’m not feeling well.
I’m logging off.”
Julian made a quick excuse.
Without waiting for a reply, he exited the game and hung up the voice call.
His phone buzzed twice.
It was a message from Toby.
“???”
“Damn it!
You threw the game again!”
“I’m settling this with you tomorrow!”
Julian sat on the bed and took a deep breath.
He focused his attention on the system panel in front of him.
His gaze immediately fell on two extremely contrasting numbers.
Tire Preservation: 91.
Wet Weather Pace: 23.
Julian slowly drifted into his memories.
He knew his tire management was good.
When he raced in lower formula categories, he often noticed a strange phenomenon.
After every race, everyone else’s tires were completely shredded.
But his tires always looked like they could do a few more laps.
He always assumed his car setup was just gentler on the rubber.
Now he realized he naturally possessed this absurd level of tire preservation.
He wondered how his number compared to actual F1 drivers.
As for the wet weather pace of 23, Julian let out a soft sigh.
His mother always thought racing was too dangerous.
If there was even a light drizzle, or if the temperature dropped below ten degrees or rose above thirty, she would find an excuse to pull him out of the car.
She would drag him shopping, traveling, or to eat fancy dinners.
Because of this, he had never seriously practiced driving in the rain from childhood to adulthood.
His wet weather skills were completely trash.
No wonder the system gave him such a low score.
While Julian was studying his panel, the clock struck ten in the evening in the Netherlands.
The official MP Motorsport account posted their announcement on X right on schedule.
The attached photo was a candid shot of Julian taken by the team photographer that afternoon.
He was wearing the team kit, standing next to the simulator.
His hair was slightly messy, and his expression hovered between confusion and focus.
He looked directly at the camera with a shy smile.
The caption read: “Welcome 17 year old Julian Vance to MP Motorsport as our number two driver for the 2023 F2 Championship!
He will partner with Dennis Hauger as we fight to defend our teams’ title!”
Immediately following this, the team announced the termination of their contract with the original number two driver, Jehan Daruvala.
The news instantly caused a massive uproar in the racing world.
Both local and international forums erupted into heated discussion.
A tidal wave of skepticism washed over the internet.
“Guess it’s just another rich kid buying his way in.
F2 is becoming a joke.”
“MP sold their soul for sponsor money.
Embarrassing.”
“I bet fifty bucks he retires in the first race.
He’ll be fired after three at most.”
“Is there any chance this Julian Vance is actually a hidden genius?”
(The top reply: Is there any chance you’re just a paid bot hired by his dad?)
Of course, alongside the criticism, there were also plenty of supportive voices from local fans.
“Good luck!
Hopefully, he’s the next Lewis Hamilton.”
“I’ve watched his lower tier races.
He did pretty well.
Let’s wait and see.”
Meanwhile, in an office at the Red Bull Junior Team base in Austria.
Dr.
Helmut Marko sat behind his desk.
He wore his signature reading glasses.
The official announcement was displayed on his computer screen.
After reading it, he didn’t scoff like everyone else.
Instead, he frowned slightly.
“Dr.
Marko, do you want me to look into this Julian Vance’s background?” his assistant asked, standing nearby.
“No need.” Marko put down his mouse and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“I’ve known Sander for decades.
He loves money, but he isn’t stupid.
If this was just about sponsorship cash, he could have stuffed Julian into an F3 seat or a pay driver slot in F2.
He could have just let him coast.
There was no need to officially announce him as the number two driver, and certainly no need to terminate Daruvala’s contract early.”
The assistant paused.
“You mean…”
“Sander did this because he saw something,” Marko said, standing up and walking to the window.
He looked out at the Red Bull Ring in the night.
“And for the team principal of an F2 championship winning team to make such a seemingly reckless decision, the ‘something’ he saw must be significant.”
He was silent for a moment before turning around.
“The Bahrain pre season test is on February 14th.
Book my flights and hotel.
I want to see for myself what this kid can do.”
“But Doctor, usually the junior team director handles the winter test…”
“I said I’m going,” Marko interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“I want to see exactly what kind of talent can make Sander pull a stunt like this.”
Completely unaware of the online storm, Julian lay in bed.
He stared at the system panel, his eyes shining brightly.
The Apex Racing System.
It actually sounded pretty cool.