My Formula 1 System-Chapter 319: US Grand Prix
Luca arrived in Las Vegas, NV, in the country of the United States, feeling a bit nauseated after the long flight over the Atlantic Ocean.
The United States was, in fact, a fascinating country—far more than Luca had expected. He had tried to keep an open mind, despite Mallow's relentless efforts to fill it with disdain.
There was an undeniable energy here, a ceaseless buzz that made everything feel alive. The infrastructure was impressive, the roads impossibly wide, and the people… well, they carried themselves differently. Confidence? Arrogance? It was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.
But not everything sat well with him. Luca found it odd how casual everything seemed. Strangers spoke with unfiltered boldness, rules felt more like suggestions, and the sheer availability of, well, everything was overwhelming.
There was a restlessness in the air, a constant need for motion, as if the country itself feared stillness.
It was as though people here had been given so much freedom that they didn't quite know what to do with it, mistaking excess for necessity, indulgence for identity.
Mallow had always said the government had let its people off the leash long ago, and now they just ran wild.
Luca wasn't sure how much he agreed with that, but one thing he did know was that this untamed energy was exactly what made the United States the perfect place for a Grand Prix.
Racing thrived on excess—on speed that defied logic, on instincts honed through reckless ambition. The sheer hunger for entertainment here, the way people craved spectacle, guaranteed an electrifying atmosphere.
Crowds would be loud, passionate, and relentless in their support or scorn, feeding the drivers with the kind of pressure that either crushed them or forged them into legends.
Thursday hosted the first day of action. Qualifiers were carried out smoothly under the dazzling lights of the Las Vegas Strip Circuit, also known as Neonway because of its well-known history of being fixed as a night race.
With Las Vegas known for being a nightlife city, the view of the US Grand Prix was often bathed in neon-blinding colors, a spectacle of speed and sensory overload.
All the towering billboards bordering the track cast their glow onto the circuit, the asphalt reflecting a kaleidoscope of electric blues, scorching reds, and pulsating purples from no particular origin.
From above, the track looked like a river of luminescence snaking through the heart of the city, its contours lined by the architectural maze of casinos, skyscrapers and high-rises.
But for this year's US Grand Prix, the race would be held in the middle of the day—even the qualifiers.
That didn't mean the track itself had changed. The layout remained identical, but gone was the dazzling allure of nightlife. And since it was a street circuit—though built on major roads, not narrow city streets—it still had all the hallmarks of peak F1 competition.
Additionally, in contrast to Circuit de l'Étoile, Neonway flourished in grandstands, racking up a surprising 70k seating capacity. That was the biggest for a street circuit!
And so, the battle for pole position began right in the middle of the bustling city.
Luca was to watch from the paddock—the worst seat in the venue, to be honest.
Mallow, who wasn't happy about Jackson's decision, had asked Luca to join him in the suites to spectate both the qualifiers and the main race on Sunday.
However, Luca refused with an obvious reason of being a responsible team member. He had to be present, even if it meant standing in the shadows while others took to the track.
It added to team spirit, but beyond that, Luca knew every second spent observing, analyzing, and understanding the unfolding race dynamics could prove invaluable later in the season.
He carefully watched as Di Renzo hopped into another Ferrari (JRX-92B). It was the same chassis and model as his own, but definitely not the exact same car. If anyone needed a reminder—Luca had crashed his.
But there was no real reason to worry. Jackson Racing had three more 92Bs stored as reserves for situations just like this. So, the next time Luca was back in action, he'd simply sync with a fresh chassis and pick up right where he left off.
His level-up progress wasn't something that physically altered the car. It was all stored within the system, separate from the machine itself.
Meaning, if the FIA ever ran a deep dive on his chassis, they'd find nothing, because the moment Luca steps out of the cockpit, the car reverts back to its default stats.
In short, Luca and his system wasn't tuning the car; he was influencing it. The moment he switched to another chassis, he left the last one behind, wiping any enhancements along with it.
He was, in essence, a walking hard drive, one that transferred performance, not hardware.
So, if Di Renzo was stepping into a 92B, he was dealing with the car's base stats:
[Aerodynamics: 20
Downforce: 24
Braking Efficiency: 20
Handling: 15
Tire Wear Management: 15 ]
[Gripper: 5]
And not the refined specs that Luca had pushed and would even push further:
[Aerodynamics: 21
Downforce: 25
Braking Efficiency: 21
Handling: 18
Tire Wear Management: 17 ]
[Gripper: 9]
On top of that, Di Renzo had no knowledge of the engine's deeper functions. And since he had no clue they existed, there was no way he'd ever take advantage of them.
Early on in the Qualifiers, the first wave of timed laps set the benchmark, with drivers cautiously testing the circuit's limits under the coolair.
Tire degradation wasn't as punishing as in Monaco, but the artificial asphalt lacked the forgiving nature of classic tracks. The usual brave ones began to push early, while others like Rodnick were bidding their time. Di Renzo was among these brave ones.
First elimination was quite the massacre.
P16— Yokouchi Yūichirō
P17— Denko Rutherford
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P18— Józef Konarski
P19— Ansel Hahn
P20— Erik Haas
As Q2 commenced, the tension thickened especially when Marko spun out and almost crashed into Turn 8. It totally disrupted his rhythm into his flyer and before he could rebuild that for another good flyer, time wasn't on his side.
As a good driver, he was able to salvage though. And Di Renzo, who was given the same strategized advice on P11, took it to the end of Q2
P11— Buoso Di Renzo
P12— Jimmy Damgaard
P13— James Lockwood
P14— Marko Ignatova
P15— Alejandro Vasquez
Then came Q3, where the elite took center stage.
Engines screamed in protest as every driver went all-in, each sector a high-stakes gamble. The fastest time kept tumbling, broken again and again as the contenders fought tooth and nail for supremacy.
Luca's throat tightened as he kept watching DiMarco hold the fastest lap. He doubted the punk would have it if he were on the track himself.
Tsk! Luca really wished he could be part of this US Grand Prix. Even if DiMarco claimed pole in these qualifiers, his penalty would drop him ten spots to P11. But when Luca remembered the advantages of that position, he cursed and prayed for a different outcome.
As the afternoon ended, the cars came to rest, the grid set as team principals left their garages to shake hands with one another.
Luca stepped out of Jackson's garage too, after congratulating Rodnick and Di Renzo on their strong driving. A massive skyscraper, as wide as a mountain, cast its shadow over the pitlane and surrounding areas, blocking the warm sun. He took a deep breath and joined the rest of the motorsport community on the track.
Luca glanced around, deciding where to begin the post-race sportsmanship activities. His eyes landed on Trampos' garage and the figures moving about there. With another sigh, he looked elsewhere.
P1— Hank Rice
P2— Marcellus Rodnick
P3— Antonio Luigi ↑
P4— Luis Dreyer ↑
P5— Ailbeart Moireach ↑
P6— Desmond Lloyd ↑
P7— Javier Montez ↑
P8— Mikhail Petrov ↑
P9— Elias Nyström ↑
P10— Buoso Di Renzo ↑
P11— Jimmy Damgaard ↑
P12— James Lockwood ↑
P13— Davide DiMarco ↓
P14— Marko Ignatova
P15— Alejandro Vasquez
P16— Yokouchi Yūichirō
P17— Denko Rutherford
P18— Józef Konarski
P19— Ansel Hahn
P20— Erik Haas
