Time flew by.
In the blink of an eye, it was February 13, 2023.
Over the past couple of weeks, Julian lived a strict routine between the gym and the track.
He showed up at the fitness center at seven thirty every morning for physical training, spent the afternoons in the simulator room, and in the evenings, he was forced by Tom to do extra cycling.
The results of this training were surprisingly significant.
The attributes on his system panel quietly increased by one or two points across the board.
Physical Conditioning: 58 (+2)
Endurance Consistency: 61 (+1)
Wet Weather Pace: 24 (+1)
Race Starts: 45 (+1)
Overtaking Technique: 48 (+1)
Defensive Driving: 67 (+1)
Tire Preservation: 91 (Unchanged)
Of course, there were a few hiccups along the way.
His secret burger snacking was eventually exposed.
After training one afternoon, Julian hid in the base storage room.
He had just pulled out a double beef burger he had been hiding in his pocket all day.
He took his first bite, the cheese not even having time to melt in his mouth, when the storage room door swung open.
Tom stood in the doorway holding a clipboard.
They stared at each other for three seconds.
Julian had half a burger hanging out of his mouth, sauce smeared on his lips, and his eyes were wide.
He froze completely.
He was worried Tom would confiscate the burger and even worse, tell on him.
But Tom did not yell.
He did not even take the burger.
He just stared at him for three seconds, then turned around, closed the door, and left one sentence.
“Be in the gym tonight.
One extra hour of cardio.”
Julian was devastated.
From then on, he had to spend an extra hour, sometimes two, on the stationary bike every single night.
Toby called him to play games every night right on schedule.
Julian’s reply was always the same three words.
“Riding bike.”
Toby replied, “Wait, did you change careers to deliver food?”
Julian typed, “Extra fitness training.”
Toby said, “No way bro, you train all day?
Do you even have time to game?
How can you forget your main job?”
Julian did not reply.
He pedaled the bike while watching his physical conditioning proficiency tick up on the system panel.
It was a mix of pain and joy.
After a couple of weeks, the results were immediate.
His originally slender arms now showed hints of muscle definition.
His neck was thicker too.
He was no longer the kid who would stumble when Tom patted his shoulder.
On the simulator, Julian’s performance reached a dominant level.
He broke the simulator lap records for all eighteen tracks at MP Motorsport.
For the long run records, he was a full twelve seconds faster than Dennis, who was in second place.
Paul held the telemetry report, his hands actually shaking.
“Under identical conditions, Julian’s tire degradation is twenty three percent lower than Dennis, and twenty five percent lower than the paddock average.
This means, with the same tires, while others can run twenty laps, he can run twenty five.
While others need three pit stops, he only needs two.
When others use mediums, he can use softs.”
Sander looked at the report, smiling so hard his face hurt.
But soon, the smile faded.
Because of the rain.
Julian’s wet weather pace was worlds apart from his dry weather pace.
On the wet simulator, his fastest lap was a full one and a half seconds slower than Dennis.
He frequently spun out or ran off the track.
Sander was so stressed he smoked an extra half pack of cigarettes every day.
“This kid is a genius in the dry, but a complete novice in the wet,” Sander sighed to Paul.
“What do we do if it rains during the race?”
“We just have to practice more,” Paul said helplessly.
“But the good news is he learns fast.
He has improved a lot over the past two weeks.”
Sander shook his head.
There was improvement, sure.
But compared to the European drivers who had been racing in the rain since they were kids, the gap was still massive.
On the morning they were set to depart for Bahrain, Sander was at the base entrance taking headcount.
His gaze swept over Julian and paused.
The kid’s energy was completely different from two weeks ago.
He still looked a bit lazy, walking slowly and speaking softly.
But there was something new in his eyes.
A focused, determined light that only appeared when racing was mentioned.
Julian dragged his suitcase and boarded the team bus.
He picked a window seat, pulled out his phone, and sent Toby a message.
“Heading to Bahrain.”
Toby replied instantly.
“Don’t crash.”
Julian typed, “Can’t you say something nice?”
Toby replied, “Then I wish you first place.”
Julian smiled, put his phone away, and put on his eye mask and headphones.
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
The plane slowly took off, piercing through the clouds and flying toward the distant Middle East.
In the afternoon, they arrived at the hotel near the Bahrain International Circuit.
The bus slowly stopped at the hotel entrance.
Julian was the first to dash off the bus, immediately taking off his thick jacket.
A blast of scorching hot air hit him, carrying the dryness of the desert.
The temperature was thirty one degrees.
It was a completely different world from the damp chill of the Netherlands.
The sunlight was blinding.
The sky was a pure, cloudless blue.
The hotel entrance was packed with other team buses.
Drivers, engineers, and mechanics in various team kits bustled about.
Everyone wore a mix of nervousness and anticipation.
The long awaited preseason test was officially starting tomorrow.
This was the only chance for all teams to evaluate their new cars and driver talent before the season began.
After checking in, Sander immediately gathered all the drivers and engineers for a preseason meeting in the hotel conference room.
“Everyone knows this winter test is crucial,” Sander stood in front of the projection screen, his expression serious.
“We need to complete all setup tests for the new car over these three days and find the optimal configuration.
This is also Julian’s first official test, so everyone give him a hand.” This chapter is updated first at g.com.
All eyes turned to Julian.
Julian nodded obediently.
Paul brought up the Bahrain weather forecast and projected it onto the screen.
His expression was somewhat grim.
“But there is bad news,” Paul pointed at the rain icon on the screen.
“Tomorrow morning, there is a sixty percent chance of rain.
And it might not be just a drizzle.”
The conference room instantly fell silent.
Everyone subconsciously looked at Julian.
After all, everyone knew wet weather was Julian’s biggest weakness.
Dennis sat across the conference table.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly before quickly returning to a blank expression.
He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers lightly on the table, secretly relieved.
Perfect.
Tomorrow morning was exactly when he and Julian were scheduled for their real car running.
It was time to show everyone who the true lead driver of the team was.
Simulator speed was just an illusion anyway.
Sander frowned too.
He looked at Julian, his tone softening considerably.
“Julian, if it really rains tomorrow, safety first.
Do not push yourself.
Run as many laps as you feel comfortable with.
We have the afternoon and the next two dry days to get your testing done.”
“Got it,” Julian nodded.
But his mood had already sunk.
After the meeting, Julian returned to his room alone.
He walked to the window and pushed it open.
Outside, it was still bright and sunny.
There was no sign of rain at all.
He pulled out his phone and checked the weather app again.
On the screen, the small rain icon was painfully glaring.
Tomorrow morning from 9 AM to 12 PM, moderate rain was expected.
Julian sighed, lay on the bed, and stared at the ceiling.
He summoned the system panel in his mind.
Wet Weather Pace: 25
It had gone up by two points, but it was still way too low.
He thought back to his childhood.
Whenever it rained, his mother would appear right on time at the karting track entrance.
She would drag him away without a word.
His dad would not dare say anything, since his mom was the true boss of the house.
“Rain is too dangerous.
Tires slip and you might crash.”
“Stop practicing, stop.
Mom is taking you to eat your favorite sushi.”
“Come on, let us go to the beach.
We will practice when it clears up.”
From childhood to adulthood, he had never driven a kart in the rain, let alone a formula car.
His wet weather experience came entirely from videos and the simulator.
And the simulator was ultimately not the same as a real car.
Julian rolled over and buried his face in the pillow.
Please do not rain tomorrow.
He prayed silently in his heart.