Speed ​​God

Chapter 169 Hearty
The blade dances wildly, carried away by the wind—

The Monaco qualifying session was spectacular, with Lu Zhizhou, Ricciardo, and Vettel all setting new track records. The fierce competition pushed the limits of speed to new heights in the narrow and sweltering streets, a sight that had not been seen in Monaco for a very long time.

The suspense surrounding pole position lasted until the very last moment; and, by the slightest margin, the outcome would be decided.

Driving car number 22, Lu Zhizhou fully utilized Ferrari's advantages, continuing to break the record for the fastest time in the first segment with an incredible performance.

The VIP room was completely silent, the air so thick it was almost stagnant. Arno completely forgot to breathe, his eyes fixed on that splash of red.

Screams, cheers, and exclamations came in waves, crashing onto the track like a tidal wave, but car number 22 remained unmoved, weaving into the narrowest and most crowded section of the track. Its throttle, brakes, and steering were perfectly coordinated, smooth and fluid.

The hairpin bend is the slowest corner in F1 all year round.

In the suffocatingly tense air, the race car seemed to come to a standstill, trapped in a time tunnel, like pine resin dripping down, precisely covering that touch of red, transforming into amber under pressure and heat. The vivid red was so breathtaking, and the vibrant life force was overwhelming.

If you look closely and intently, you can see it gradually drawing a perfect arc in the pine resin, cutting in from the outside to the inside and then thrusting straight out from the outside, like a long sword being drawn from its sheath, breaking free of its restraints and flowing out along the downward slope, instantly turning the amber into powder.

That splash of red made the sun pale in comparison, and everyone's eyes followed it intently, not daring to even blink.

From ten times slower to ten times faster, after car number 22 escaped the hairpin turn 6, everything instantly entered high-speed mode—

Port. Tunnel. New port.

The control from low speed to high speed and back to low speed was smooth and effortless, and before anyone could react, the boat had already entered the swimming pool area in a grand procession.

Huh!
Arno himself was unaware that he was holding his breath, staring intently at the red streak rushing in from the north, entering the west side of the main grandstand VIP lounge, so close, so close, so close to the track wall, frantically testing the edge of crashing into the wall, that the VIP lounge could clearly feel the slight vibrations from the ground, like a torrent in a treacherous chasm, the roar and noise hitting his eardrums hard, pressing him firmly to the spot.

Unable to move.

Before he could even react, a burst of cheers erupted in his ears. Arno, not understanding why, joined in the shouting and screaming wildly.

"Second time slot, purple! God!"

Unbelievable! Inconceivable!
LeBark clenched his fist and jumped high into the air. Arno passively followed the crowd from the west side of the VIP lounge to the east side on the other side, staring intently at the starting straight below, looking towards the southern end of the track, roaring and cheering with all his might, releasing all his energy.

Ah! Ahhhhhhhhh!

Pushing the limits to the extreme, Lu Zhizhou and Ricciardo were already crazy enough in the first flying lap of Q3, but no one expected that the real essence of the performance was yet to come. The audience was stunned, their scalps tingled and their knees trembled. The charm of Formula racing ignited all the adrenaline.

Then, in an instant, I stopped breathing, forgot to think, forgot my heartbeat, and even forgot my own existence, blurring and dissolving in the sweltering heat.

Until that splash of Ferrari red re-entered my field of vision.

"The perfect route!"

"Dancing on the tip of a knife!"

"It couldn't be better, it couldn't be more perfect. Lu Zhizhou has squeezed out all the potential of the car and the track. The third timeout is still flawless!"

Amidst the frenzied screams in the live stream, the roar of the engine, like a jet plane whizzing by, left a long trail of air in the field of vision.

Everything is frozen in time.

1: 11.001.

The world fell silent briefly, only to be immediately shattered by Croft's frantic cheers.

"Record!"

"A brand new record!"

"Lu Zhizhou has broken the track record just set by Ricardo! He has ascended to the throne!"

"Oh God, what are we witnessing! What are we really witnessing! Ferrari has such potential? It's almost breaking the 10-second barrier?"

"How exactly did Lu Zhizhou do it?"

"Incredible!"

"But this is Lu Zhizhou! This is why Lu Zhizhou is wearing the Ferrari No. 22 racing suit! Lu Zhizhou has once again conquered the track with an unparalleled performance!"

"Now, all the pressure is on Ricciardo! Lu Zhizhou is still two flying laps away from his first career pole position, one with Ricciardo and one with Bottas!"

They've gone mad! Utterly gone mad!
Arnaud and LeBark looked at each other, clenched their fists and screamed, their eyes and mouths filled with joy and excitement, their dopamine levels soaring.

The Ferrari service area staff stood up and cheered, with even Arrivabene nearly losing control.

"First, the continent. First!" Greenwood tried his best to suppress his emotions, but his voice still trembled slightly.

Ferrari was dominated by Red Bull throughout the weekend. Vettel's time was almost at the car's limit, but unexpectedly, Lu Zhizhou worked his magic, squeezing out energy beyond the limit. This lap was impeccable, and he even seemed to see Senna's figure in a daze.

Emotionally.

"Thank you. Where's Daniel?" Lu Zhizhou was controlling himself, a sense of exhilaration and unbridled joy surging in his chest. The overwhelming pressure suddenly eased, bringing a feeling of liberation. He had poured all his energy into that last lap, and now it was up to Ricardo.

Greenwood quickly pulled his thoughts back to Ricardo's location, "Just passed the first timeout, swiped green."

All the attention was on the No. 3 Red Bull race car.

Ricciardo started his final flying lap one after the other with Bottas, and the ultimate suspense of the Monaco qualifying race was to be revealed in the next seventy seconds.

In the first time trial, Red Bull failed to achieve a purple score, and Mercedes-Benz and Ferrari still had the advantage.

It's worth noting, however, that Ricciardo got a green lap, setting a new personal best and surpassing the lap time he just set on the track. He's also sharpening his skills.

Everyone knows that Red Bull's trump card is yet to come. If Ricciardo can overtake him in the first timeout, does that mean—

"Second time slot, turn green!"

"My God! Ricciardo set a personal best in the second period, but he couldn't beat Lu Zhizhou's time. The Monaco pole position will be decided in the last period!"

The air was still, all noise vanished, and only that blue hue remained, drawing breathtaking afterimages along the coastline and city streets.

The Red Bull and Ferrari maintenance crews held their breath, even forgetting that Bottas was also speeding behind Ricciardo, trying to make a splash.

Car number three burst through the winding road, roaring towards the finish line with the force of a waterfall plunging three thousand feet. In the third timeout, Red Bull's strongest and most proficient period, Ricciardo unleashed all the primal power within him without reservation.

A madness also burst forth in Ricciardo's eyes. Under continuous pressure and impact, a smile fully bloomed on his lips. He was in a state of complete disarray, and his smooth and fluid operation was entirely based on instinct. His soul and the car were completely integrated. Sparks were constantly being generated as he switched between the accelerator and the brake.

Finally, it evolved into a critical strike, flooring the accelerator, exploding with energy, tearing through the air amidst roar and clamor, and rushing across the finish line in a frenzied explosion.

Although no one had time to notice, the third timer segment ended with a purple score.

At this moment, all eyes are focused on the large screen at the starting line—

1: 10.810.

Everything has settled down; history bears witness.

……

0.191 seconds —

It was a truly minuscule difference; Lu Zhizhou was just a hair's breadth away from his first pole position in his professional career.

Imagine failing to finish two consecutive races, facing overwhelming pressure, but then securing pole position in Monaco to deliver a powerful comeback – that would be the perfect response.

Even now, being ranked second still sends chills down the spines of those haters and trolls; a mere slight difference is all it takes to move up a rank.

however.

No, I have no regrets.

Standing in the mixed zone, surrounded by reporters, Lu Zhizhou flashed a big smile. His wet, messy hair revealed a vibrant energy between his brows, full of hope and vitality, radiating a light and eager demeanor.

Anyone with eyes can see that he is telling the truth.

“During free practice, we faced some problems. Obviously, Red Bull was in a class of their own in Monaco. I couldn’t even see them. I don’t think the gap between us was less than 0.8 seconds. That’s a huge advantage. They are the target that all teams need to beat.”

"The qualifying results far exceeded expectations. It's not just about getting second place; more importantly, it's about the gap. Maybe we're not that far behind Red Bull, which gives us hope."

"Next in the main race, I hope we can have a better rhythm in the long distance and aim for higher goals."

Starting second means aiming for an even higher goal, which also means—

Based on the qualifying results, Ricciardo, Lu Zhizhou, and Vettel finished second and third respectively, while Hamilton and Bottas finished fourth and fifth.

Red Bull, two Ferraris, and two Mercedes-Benzes lined up in order. Bottas's final flying lap, a desperate attempt, ultimately failed to deliver, even falling behind his teammate Hamilton. At this point, it was clear that there was indeed a performance gap between the three giants' cars here.

Tomorrow, Ferrari and Mercedes-Benz will likely join forces to take down Red Bull, while Verstappen, starting from the back of the car, will be a major variable.

The confidence and excitement that Lu Zhizhou exuded made one wonder.

Before the reporter could ask any more questions, a commotion arose from behind. Turning around, one could see Ricardo making his entrance like a Hollywood star, grinning to reveal a set of bright white teeth, deliberately straightening his back, standing on tiptoe, and waving to the surrounding crowd from a high vantage point, eliciting waves of cheers from the audience.

Lu Zhizhou gestured to the reporters and strode towards Ricardo, calling out, "Daniel!"

A fist bump. A shoulder bump. A pat on the back.

"A fantastic lap. Beautiful, truly beautiful!"

All of this was done with genuine sincerity. Ricciardo became the first driver to break the 11-second barrier at the Monaco circuit, taking pole position with a record-breaking performance. This not only proved that Red Bull indeed had a performance advantage at Monaco, but also once again demonstrated Ricciardo's talent and ability as the team's number one driver.

In fact, the conflict between Ricardo and Verstappen in Baku was escalating. Outsiders could see that the competition within the Red Bull team had turned deadly. Verstappen was becoming increasingly impatient and aggressive, almost to the point of rolling up his sleeves and disregarding everything else. It was impossible for Ricardo not to have grievances.

Despite winning the Shanghai leg with a strategic approach, Ricardo's performance in Baku and Barcelona was lackluster, and he is eager to prove himself.

This pole position is worth a fortune.

Ricardo grinned, proudly displaying his white teeth. "Hehe, I've successfully defeated you, genius. This is the second time, isn't it? What does that mean?"

Ricardo, hands on his hips, threw his head back and laughed exaggeratedly, "Ha! Ha! Ha! I'm a super genius!"

Before Lu Zhizhou could say anything, Ricardo choked on his own saliva and curled up like a shrimp, his genius aura shattering on the ground.

Lu Zhizhou couldn't help but smile, his eyes brimming with laughter. "Thank you for the compliment. I never knew I had such influence in the paddock. Is defeating me the same as defeating Hamilton and Vettel?"

Ricardo stared wide-eyed and opened his mouth wide, speechless.

Lu Zhizhou calmly patted Ricardo on the shoulder, "Since this is the second time, I should remind you that no one can defeat me three times in a row."

"Be careful in the main competition."

After saying that, Lu Zhizhou turned around leisurely.

Ricardo, standing behind, was making a ruckus. "Hey, did you see that? The baby driver just threatened me! Is it true? The baby driver actually turned into Chucky? Ahhh, how scary! I'm going to tell his mom!"

puff.

Everyone around couldn't help but burst into laughter.

Lu Zhizhou had already returned to the mixed zone, his eyes and lips full of smiles. "Sorry. Where were we?"

A reporter in the crowd handed me a microphone. "During the break in yesterday's free practice match, we saw you seemingly doing a test paper. Is that true?"

Lu Zhizhou was taken aback, then chuckled, "Yes, it should be considered a review assignment. I'm not sure if you know, but next week we have a graduation exam that also serves as a college entrance exam."

The National College Entrance Examination (Gaokao) is just around the corner.

In an instant, the reporters became agitated.

"Yes, we know. So, are you preparing for the exam?"

Lu Zhizhou nodded. "Of course. This is one of the conditions for me to participate in F1. I promised my parents that I would graduate smoothly." Perfect, it would bring a period to my high school life.

Admiration and amazement filled the air. Although Verstappen entered the paddock at the age of seventeen, he had long since left school and devoted all his energy to racing. The reporters couldn't remember the last time they saw a driver worrying about homework and exams in the paddock.

Perhaps... it never was?
"Are you having trouble with your homework? Do you have any problems? Maybe you can find some help in Weichang," a reporter couldn't help but joke.

The atmosphere became noticeably more relaxed. Lu Zhizhou waved his hand, "No, I'm not worried about homework or exams. To be honest, everyone in the repair area avoids me now."

"Last time, I used a whiteboard to solve a math problem, and it stumped the entire engineering team. Everyone was terrified, and they ate half as little as they should have for dinner."

Haha, everyone burst into laughter instantly.

Unexpectedly, after a tense and thrilling qualifying match, the hottest topic surrounding Monaco was Lu Zhizhou's math problem.

At the reporter's request, Cleary filmed Lu Zhizhou's solution to the math problem, which inexplicably sparked heated discussions on social media, with everyone trying to solve it; but the final result was facepalm-worthy, with everyone exclaiming, "How can Chinese high school math be so difficult?"

The tense atmosphere instantly eased, adding a touch of excitement to the Monaco Grand Prix weekend. However, the watchful hunters remained vigilant, refusing to be distracted by the smokescreen, and one by one, they offered their prayers fervently—

Ricardo wins. Ricardo wins. Ricardo wins.

Rather than saying Ricardo gained countless fans overnight, it's more accurate to say that the voices refusing to see Lu Zhizhou bounce back from rock bottom were desperate cries for help.

They just wanted Lu Zhizhou to stay under the car so they could continue to party, complain, and attack, proving they were right.

Lu Zhizhou's second-place finish in the qualifying round was such a spectacular performance that it shocked the critics. They were so close to witnessing Lu Zhizhou reach the top, and after escaping death, they really didn't want to experience such a terrifying experience a second time in the main event. Their only hope was that Ricardo could suppress Lu Zhizhou.

Yes, if Vettel and Hamilton, starting from the second row, could team up to take down Lu Zhizhou, the critics would be happy to watch such a show.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, the moon sets and the sun rises, the Northern Hemisphere once again welcomes the morning sun, and Monaco, having slept all night, is ready to welcome its annual carnival—

"Ricardo! Champion!"

……

In the early morning, the golden sunlight lazily spills down, reflecting a shimmering light on the azure sea. Monaco shines like a jewel in a crown. The air is filled with excitement and anticipation, mixed with the aroma of coffee and the pungent smell of gasoline, while waves of heat pulsate through the city.

You don't even need to be near the track; you can clearly feel the fervor just by standing at any street corner.

The annual carnival in Monaco is about to begin today.

At five in the morning, as dawn broke, Rosanna Sepplayton, backpack on her back, stood stubbornly upright beside the temporary grandstand next to the track, clutching the expensive ticket she had bought the day before, her heart pounding uncontrollably.

Sepplayton felt he was going crazy. Absolutely. Without a doubt.

On a whim, on a sudden impulse, she found herself at Heathrow Airport, ready to embark on a journey to Monaco.

Although she missed yesterday's qualifying session and couldn't witness it in person, she was only separated from the track by a building and could hear the roar of engines right next to her. She witnessed the battle for pole position by the narrowest margin through the live broadcast, which was thrilling. Her determination to go to the venue today to watch the live broadcast is unwavering.

This should be the first time in Sepplayton's life that he's not going to collect autographs to resell, but simply to go to the stadium to watch the game in person.

She didn't even care whether Lu Zhizhou knew or not.

She simply wanted to witness and be Lu Zhizhou's strong support, to stand shoulder to shoulder with him even when the whole world was against them.

Nearby, two big boys with thick Scottish accents were unfolding their folding chairs. Croissants they had just bought from the corner bakery were emitting an enticing aroma. Their faces were painted with silver number 44, and they were gesturing excitedly as they said, "Lewis is sure to overtake us today. Neither Daniel nor the baby driver can stop him."

Sepplayton hesitated for a moment, "I bet the baby car driver you're talking about can defend against both Lewis and Sebastian, the two world champions, throughout the race."

“No, impossible.” It wasn’t even an angry rebuttal, but a nonchalant wave of his hand, as if Sepplayton had just told a harmless joke. “Let me tell you, it’s all just media hype. That baby carriage driver is no match for Verstappen.”

"He's a coward."

That disdainful tone made Sepreton laugh in anger, but he never expected that a group of car fans wearing white Mercedes T-shirts would quickly swarm over and start criticizing him.

"Don't compare him to Lewis; that's an insult to Lewis. He's not even worthy of being compared to Max."

"Melbourne was pure luck, 100%."

"He has nothing but a mouth. You'll see today, everything will be revealed."

For every word you say, ten people will retort; two fists can't fight four hands.

Sepplayton seemed to instantly revert to her social media persona, once again experiencing the trolls' frenzy. She strongly suspected she had stirred up a hornet's nest, ending up among a bunch of Mercedes-Benz fans.

But after a moment's hesitation, Sepreton did not leave; she chose to stay, even if it meant facing the doubts alone.

Sepplayton didn't refute each point, but just smiled and said, "Let's bet on the opening. If the baby carriage driver holds the position, this bag of croissants is mine. If he can't, I'll give you a big beer."

Actually, Sepplayton was just hungry and eyeing that bag of croissants.

Those fans of car number 44 just thought Sepplayton was cute, seemingly knowing nothing about racing, "Another girl who likes racing because of her looks."

Not far away, several fans from Tiefo Temple wearing red No. 5 T-shirts waved Ferrari flags and sang a modified version of "Sweet Caroline." Mercedes fans nearby burst into laughter, started shouting and complaining, and exchanged verbal sparring. Although they didn't fight, the laughter and banter were quite lively.

Sepplayton had always thought that the complaints and attacks were confined to the online realm, just a bunch of zombies, and that the reality might not be so bad.

Now it seems that the reality of the paddock is just as cruel. Lu Zhizhou may be facing a more brutal and difficult situation than he imagined. Unseen dangers are trying to devour this baby driver who has sprung from the cracks in the rocks. Sepreton can't help but feel a chill.

My heart was pounding wildly.

Sepplayton has never cared so much about an F1 race.

Meanwhile, at Lasses Corner on the other side of the track, Maria Plath, a local resident of Monaco, moved with her two children along with the crowd, trying to find a high vantage point in this relatively quiet corner where she could watch the race undisturbed.

Her husband, Jan Plath, was a dockworker, and she herself worked at a casino in Monte Carlo. The world of motorsports was far removed from them, an unattainable and elusive dream.

But today, the entire Plath family was present, just to experience this unique Monaco carnival atmosphere, a festival even more important than Christmas.

Maria brought homemade sandwiches from home and shared them with the children. The little boy looked up at the billboards beside the track, gazing at them for a long time.

"Mom, will that red race car win?"

Maria didn't even look up, she just patted his head, "Why that race car?"

The son looked quietly into the bright, clear eyes of the number 22 driver, thought for a moment, and said, "I like red."

Jan-Plass glanced over and said gruffly, "No way. It's almost impossible to overtake here. He has no hope of winning."

He at least knows a little bit about racing.

Maria smiled, ignoring her husband. "Perhaps. Miracles always happen here." Although the couple had given up on believing in their dreams, their children shouldn't.

Jan-Plus snorted coldly, but ultimately said nothing more. He just stared blankly at the track, then looked at the sandwich in his hand, lost in thought.

Crowded, noisy, and teeming with people.

Crowds surged in from all directions, filling both sides of the track. Looking up, you could see that the residential buildings on both sides of the track were also packed with people.

Each balcony and each apartment is a small world, where you can clearly see them hosting a party, taking the opportunity to welcome friends from other cities, showcasing the uniqueness of their apartment, and enjoying a commanding view with a VIP box that is one of a kind in the world.

In this tiny city, the differences in wealth and class are clearly visible. People usually focus on their daily lives, selectively ignoring these things. But now, with the annual carnival surfacing again, every detail is presented before our eyes, and dreams seem insignificant in the face of reality.

Those residents who owned apartments as free tickets were already well ahead of three-quarters of the spectators in the paddock, enjoying the party freely.

Perhaps the only place that can rival it in terms of vision and space is the port. It is a port that truly gathers the world's top 1% of the richest people. Billionaires seem to be commonplace and insignificant here. You can feel the truth that there are always people better than you at all times.

This is the true pinnacle of the pyramid.

The port is a playground for the truly ultra-wealthy.

The yachts, of all sizes, lined up neatly, vying for attention. Not only do they avoid the crowds, but they also enjoy a front-row rock zone view. Only the world's top billionaires can have a front-row seat on the marina this weekend, showcasing their status and wealth.

Lorenzo Moretti looked at his yacht and then at the luxury yacht next to him, which was twice the size. He couldn't help but feel envious. The bearded man on the deck, who was on the phone with his white robe fluttering in the wind, was clearly a Middle Eastern oil tycoon. His status and treatment were completely different.

Waiters carried caviar and champagne as guests mingled and chatted happily, while handsome men and beautiful women in swimsuits sang and danced energetically.

At that moment, a commotion arose at the helipad at the stern of the giant yacht, and then Leonardo DiCaprio, wearing a linen shirt, appeared. The bearded man in a white robe immediately hung up the phone and greeted him with a smile. Several blonde models then disembarked from the helicopter.

The scene was incredibly lively.

Lorenzo was speechless. He finally understood what extravagance meant. He hadn't been interested in it before, and even when he came to Monaco to watch the game, he would choose to sit in the stands. This was the first time he had held a yacht party in Brembo's name and invited celebrities to watch the Monaco game.

But clearly, in the paddock, Brembo is just a drop in the ocean. This game of capital has no upper limit and no restrictions; it's all about guts.

This must be the first time that the usually lazy and easygoing Lorenzo has become so excited and can't help but wonder what they will be able to see if Brembo goes a step further and grows into an industry giant alongside Lu Zhizhou, expanding their territory side by side.
The pressure was there, but Lorenzo knew that Lu Zhizhou didn't need anyone else to worry about him. In the world of competitive sports, luck and metaphysics are indeed unpredictable. No matter what difficulties they faced, he would stand firmly behind Lu Zhizhou and face them together.

What did Lu Zhizhou say?

Racing is actually a team sport.

Slightly straightening his back, Lorenzo gazed towards the track. The more difficult and thrilling the situation, the more Lu Zhizhou was able to demonstrate his heroic nature.

However, in Monaco, the chances of overtaking are almost zero, and the margin for error is squeezed to the extreme. Any slight deviation could lead to complete failure. Even Senna and Schumacher need to be 100% focused here. For Lu Zhizhou, it is undoubtedly the ultimate challenge.

Lorenzo began to rub his hands together, eager to see how Lu Zhizhou would meet this challenge.

The VIP grandstand above the pit lane at the Monaco circuit is known as the "Golden Terrace." There are no tickets, only invitations. It is the best place to watch the race up close, as the entire center of gravity of the track is located on the Golden Terrace.

To the east is the starting straight; to the west is the swimming pool area where the second and third timing sections connect, named after the rooftop outdoor swimming pool of a billionaires' club.

Standing on the golden terrace, moving between the windows on both sides, you can have a close-up view of the key moments of the racetrack.

At this moment, champagne bottles were opened one after another, and waiters moved about with silver platters, on which were placed exquisite lobster rolls and mini desserts. Tech tycoons, fashion celebrities, Russian businessmen, and Wall Street moguls walked through the scene. The air was filled with the scent of expensive perfumes, but it became strange because of the smell of gasoline mixed in.

Even Arnaud became insignificant in this setting. If he were his father, his status would naturally be different, but as the youngest son who had just graduated from university, he only possessed a surname, and his presence in the glamorous crowd was instantly and completely submerged.

This is reality.

If he wants to truly earn his place at the top of the pyramid, it can't be just about his surname; he must produce results.

So, is the answer he has been searching for and pursuing right here on this very track?

Looking up, Arnaud saw Leback.

They are just as young and inexperienced, but when they stand at the very top of the pyramid, they still lack a bit of weight.

"Yesterday was fantastic!"

"Yes. Who do you think will win this year?"

"Haha, I don't have any particular ideas. I just hope for some excitement. After all, overtaking is difficult here, and the race might be very boring. What do you think?"

The polite small talk was pointless, with neither of them intending to reveal their true intentions, but they didn't expect to attract the attention of others and draw the two young people into the conversation.

“Daniel. Of course it’s Daniel. Daniel’s lap yesterday was absolutely amazing, wasn’t it?”

"I think Sebastian and Lewis are worth watching."

Arnaud looked at Leback, just as Leback was looking back. The two of them smiled at the same time, their eyes revealing a meaningful look.

Yesterday's qualifying session was already star-studded, but today's main race is a major event. Crowds of people meander along the track, street performers' cheerful music echoes through the streets and buildings, distinguished guests raise their glasses and look down at the hustle and bustle, and the pit area is already bustling with activity.

The noise and frenzy intertwined, evolving into a symphony that hovered over Monaco.

No wonder everyone says that Monaco is the crown jewel of F1, perfectly combining speed and passion, luxury and elegance, technology and high-end features. The glamour of the race has transcended the cars themselves; and the extremely difficult track challenges the limits, making it a peak that everyone wants to conquer.

Once you reach the summit, you'll be the center of attention.

Everything was engulfed in the sweltering heat. The pressure and noise continued to rise under the spotlight. The sultry air almost solidified into solid paste. Before anyone could even notice, time flew by, and the roar of engines gradually filled the starting straight on the east side of the golden terrace. All twenty race cars were ready.

The red light is on.

5. 4.

At that moment, the tiny city fell into a brief silence. Everything seemed to be paused, and everyone held their breath. The clamor of expectations and excitement disappeared into the silence, but it never disappeared. Instead, it continued to heat up under the pressure, pushing it little by little to the limit, on the verge of exploding.

Three. Two.

All was quiet. You could clearly hear the gentle breeze carrying the sound of waves crashing against the harbor. Suddenly, the cries of seagulls tore open a gap in the heatwave, and the suppressed roar burst forth, only to vanish into nothingness the instant it reached its peak, leaving only silence.

One.

Clutch. Accelerator. Start.

Like an arrow released from a bow, Lu Zhizhou stood out and immediately cut towards the middle lane.

During the launch in Shanghai, Lu Zhizhou was too excited and started too fast, which put him in a difficult situation, but this did not shake Lu Zhizhou's belief.

He understood that overtaking opportunities in Monaco were truly rare, especially during the first lap when the tires hadn't reached operating temperature and the grip was temporarily insufficient.

He had to take a gamble.

In Monaco, pole position is located on the right side of the track, which is the driving line; second position is also on the right side, the dirty side of the track.

Turn 1, St. De Vault, is a sharp right-hand bend. By controlling the inside and apex of the bend, it is a highly contested area and a frequent racing zone.

Fast, agile, and decisive.

Lu Zhizhou immediately moved towards the middle lane, both sticking to Ricardo and blocking Hamilton and Vettel behind him.

Kill two birds with one stone.

(End of this chapter)