F1: Starting with a Simulator Master

Chapter 121 Sainz's Ancestral Teachings

Luo Xiu finished his first stint and the red Prancing Horse race car smoothly drove back to the pit lane.

The mechanic rushed over, lifted the race car and pushed it back to the pit garage. Three F1-specific dry ice oxygen generators were inserted directly into the air intake on the top of the car and the cooling vents in the side cases. At the same time, within two breaths, the nose flap was removed and the front suspension damping level was adjusted.

At the same time, a dedicated dual-screen monitor was mounted on the outer edge of the cockpit, directly in front of Halo. Luo Xiu remained seated in the cockpit, looking up at the data on the screen, while his mind palace simultaneously performed verification and updates.

Everything proceeded in an orderly manner, yet it was extremely efficient.

So much so that the mechanics forgot that this was Luo Xiu's first time driving a real F1 car in the current season. More importantly, no one noticed that inside Luo Xiu's cockpit, the foam seat had been squeezed and deformed, almost losing its support function.

Because Luo Xiu didn't complain once throughout the entire process, the telemetry data showed that he had no abnormal physiological conditions and his breathing was very stable.

With a physical fitness level of A, Luo Xiu can withstand the continuous effects of up to 5G.

However, the pain caused by the deformation of the foam seat is actually no different from that of the Bierman.

However, in the data panel of his mental palace, there was no indicator of mental or physical pain tolerance.

Because Luo Xiu never cared about physical pain; he only cared about whether his body could withstand the gravitational acceleration beyond its limits!

Five minutes later, the race car was refueled and started its second Stint, a long-distance stability test.

The Mind Palace has physically replicated the Jeddah racetrack at this moment, including all the temperature, wind direction, and sand and gravel distribution, to a one-to-one scale.

Every detail of every curve, every moment of tire wear, every change in fuel consumption on every lap is exactly the same as in reality.

"LUO, our target lap time is 1:34.5. Try to stay within this range and be careful to control tire wear."

"Copy." (Received)

The lap timer on the big screen started to jump.

1:34.512

1:34.511

1:34.507

1:34.509

Seven laps in total.

🇧🇷

Despite the tires wearing out and the complex sidewinds, he precisely controlled the time error Delta for each lap to within 0.1 seconds.

The entire Ferrari garage fell into a deathly silence.

This is not the kind of focus a human being should have, at least not in a newcomer.

This means that this lap time is truly within his control.

Truly, with ease and composure, and with complete confidence.

He can definitely do it faster!

The third Stint was at 2 a.m.

Luo Xiu drove the race car, changed to the red-bottomed soft tires with the highest friction and shortest lifespan, and entered the flight lap mode of simulated qualifying sprint.

As is customary, the power unit of a race car will not unlock its full energy output in order to protect the engine and allow it to continue for longer periods in the race.

This means that Luo Xiu's race car will have dozens less horsepower compared to its peak performance.

To everyone's surprise, in light oil mode, Luo Xiu only completed one lap.

A flying lap has three timing segments.

In the first timeout, the entire field was covered in purple!

In the second timeout, the entire field was covered in purple!

Only the third time slot is green.

Purple represents the entire second practice session, during which Luo Xiu had the fastest lap time.

Green represents Luo Xiu's personal best time, but not the fastest overall.

The third time segment, the segment with the fastest average speed in Jeddah.

In this high-speed stage where you almost always need to keep the throttle completely locked, aside from the high-speed downshift at T22 and the extreme braking before the hairpin turn at T27, all a driver can do is keep their right foot firmly on the ground.

Ferrari's engine became Luo Xiu's constraint.

The teams all had a tacit understanding of hiding their power during practice sessions, but when the power was locked at the same level, the difference was exposed on the straights, which allowed Luo Xiu to clearly understand the true bottleneck of this red Prancing Horse.

He crossed the finish line last, finishing second overall.

He's only 0.2 seconds behind Max Verstappen!

Immediately after the end of the second practice session.

There was no communication, no small talk.

Vasel quickly printed out a report containing Rosh's various telemetry data and slapped it directly in front of the camera during the encrypted video conference with the Maranello headquarters.

In the meeting room, no one even mentioned the additional terms of the ten million euro sponsorship anymore.

Because whether it's rankings or this data, Luo Xiu's dominance over Bierman can only be described as overwhelming in every aspect.

Those car-savvy executives in Italy, far away, didn't waver in their decision; instead, the scales collapsed.

No one mentioned Biermann's name again, and the allocation of the seat was settled without any suspense.

The locker room in Ferrari's pit lane after practice.

Luo Xiu had just stepped out of the ice bath tub to relieve the high temperature.

Before he could even put on his coat, Vasser pushed open the door and walked in.

The team leader's gaze immediately fell on Luo Xiu's horribly mangled back.

The makeshift foam seat deformed in less than ten minutes, leaving Luo Xiu's back covered in bruises.

But when Luo Xiu turned around, there wasn't a trace of pain in his eyes, nor any excitement after passing the rookie tryouts.

He was as calm as a worker who had just finished overtime and was about to clock out.

Looking at this unreasonable Chinese young man, the team leader, who had just quelled the political struggle within the convoy, revealed a satisfied smile.

Vasser didn't say any of those high-sounding platitudes.

"Take a good night's sleep and adjust to the time difference as soon as possible."

He pulled a pass from his pocket bearing the Ferrari prancing horse logo, representing the highest level of authority in the paddock.

This is a symbol of power that only the two official drivers and core executives in the entire team are qualified to wear around their necks.

Then, he personally placed the card into Luo Xiu's hand.

"That No. 55 is yours."

At the same time, dozens of kilometers away, in a VIP ward of a top-tier private hospital in Jeddah.

Carlos Sainz, who had just undergone an appendectomy under general anesthesia a dozen hours earlier, was sitting on his hospital bed, watching the live broadcast of the first training session on the television screen.

Several familiar European motorsport journalists had been waiting in the hospital room, and their cameras were flashing red lights.

Although Sainz's face was still somewhat pale from blood loss, his expression was surprisingly relaxed.

He had been watching the game since the first training session, but the footage Sainz was finding very boring.

Unlike the public broadcasts that most motorsport fans are familiar with, which switch between different drivers and teams and include commentary, this is different.

He kept his eyes glued to the Biermann in-car camera the entire time.

This is F1TVPro, a driver-exclusive channel developed in recent years by Liberty Media, the operator of F1. It allows users to freely choose which driver's perspective they want to watch.

With the keen insight of a top driver, Sainz easily captured details that ordinary viewers would miss.

Biermann struggled slightly on certain corners, and the car wasn't perfectly controlled by him.

"Oliver is an extremely talented young man."

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Facing the cameras of reporters from various media outlets, Sainz smiled and spared no praise.

That was a display of confidence and magnanimity befitting an absolute core player.

"His line handling in many high-speed corners today was very skillful. You know, the seat he was using today wasn't very reliable, Oliver must have been in a lot of pain, but he persevered."

Sainz shrugged and gave a final blessing to the camera.

"For a rookie, he's done an excellent job. Hopefully, he can help the team recover some of the points they've lost in tomorrow's race."

The media tacitly recorded this highly sportsmanlike statement.

Everyone understood the underlying message behind the Spanish driver's generous blessing:

Biermann is a promising talent, but a substitute is ultimately just a substitute. On the brutal F1 track, he can only "stop the bleeding," not win "more."

Ferrari still needs Carlos Sainz.

The interview ended amidst a peaceful atmosphere and compliments, and the reporters left the ward satisfied.

however.

Less than three hours later.

When the broadcast on the television screen cut to the late-night segment of the second free practice session (FP2).

The air conditioning in the ward was probably set too low, causing a sudden drop in temperature.

From the second stint after the red No. 55 race car left the pit lane, Sainz, who had been leaning against the pillows, involuntarily leaned forward more and more.

On the screen, a series of purple circles representing Luo Xiu's telemetry data appeared.

Sainz panicked.

What kind of monster is this?!

Sainz's breathing became somewhat uneven.

As the effects of the general anesthesia gradually wore off, he should have felt some pain in his abdominal wound, but at this moment, apart from his increasingly heavy breathing, he felt nothing at all.

Sainz couldn't hold back any longer.

He ripped the IV tube off the back of his hand, ignoring the stitches in his abdomen, and grabbed the phone by the bedside to call his agent.

"Get the car ready! I need to get back to the paddock immediately! Right now!"

Friday afternoon, on the eve of the third practice match.

Outside the entrance area of ​​the competition venue in Jeddah's coastal street, the flashes of media cameras almost formed a blinding white wall.

"I'm all better now! Trust me!"

Carlos Sainz, the Ferrari race car driver who had a piece of his internal organ removed just yesterday, no longer looks weak in the media photos from last night.

He was dressed in extremely appropriate casual clothes, his hair was neatly combed, and he maintained his usual dashing demeanor in front of the camera.

"The surgery was very successful, and the doctor said my recovery speed is far beyond human limits. I feel great right now."

Facing the endless stream of microphones, Sainz smiled confidently and spoke with conviction.

"I can go straight back to the cockpit of car number 55 right now, no problem at all!"

He wanted to get to Vassil's office as quickly as possible and snatch back the steering wheel that belonged to him.

Amidst flashing lights and cheers from fans, Sainz walked with seemingly light steps toward the Ferrari pit garage, a space reserved for core team members.

Sainz navigated the internal passageway with practiced ease, pushed open the door to the work area, and prepared to confront Vassil directly to assert his dominance.

Just 5 minutes later.

He didn't even have a chance to utter his prepared declaration before he stiffly appeared in the VIP box on the second floor, a place filled with big names from all walks of life.

Just now, not only was his request to fight rejected by Vasser in person, but the shrewd team leader also gave him the empty title of "representative of Ferrari's image," and forcibly arranged him into this private room, which was specifically for drinking and socializing with Middle Eastern tycoons, like a mascot.

At this moment, Sainz, holding a glass of champagne, completely lost his usual composure as he exchanged compliments with European and American superstars.

The lingering pain from the abdominal surgery finally began to stimulate Sainz's nerves.

Sainz clenched his fists, feeling that this was the most ridiculous and humiliating moment he had ever experienced in his life.

If only time could turn back, or if he could wait until he had a son in the future.

He was determined to establish a family precept.

Every member of the Saines family must have that damned appendix removed from the day they are born!

The third free practice session ended uneventfully amidst Sainz's forced smile and the cheerful atmosphere of the Middle Eastern tycoons.

Local time, Friday, 20:00.

-

As night fell completely over the Jeddah circuit, a five-kilometer-long strip of blinding artificial lights illuminated the darkness like daytime.

The first climax of the Saudi F1 Grand Prix is ​​about to begin: qualifying.

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