F1: Starting with a Simulator Master

The first round of the main competition.

Departure area.

The sunlight baked the asphalt road surface until it was scorching hot, and the heat wave distorted the air.

Excluding those that withdrew from the race and those that failed to meet the qualifying standards, only twelve cars made it to the main race track.

Luo Xiu's red car, number 6, took the lead and stopped at the front pole starting grid.

Inside the helmet, Luo Xiu's breathing was steady.

His hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, not gripping it tightly, but rather feeling the vibrations transmitted from the engine to his fingertips.

Boom—Boom—

That was the roar of twelve F4 engines.

beep, beep, beep...

Five red lights lit up in sequence.

The sound effects accompanying each light that illuminated felt like a hammer blow to the heart.

After the fifth light comes on, it will randomly turn off within a few seconds.

The human reaction limit to visual signals is approximately 0.1 seconds.

Any start faster than this time is, on a physical level, nothing more than a gamble, or a slow start.

The FIA ​​made the lights-out time random in order to curb drivers' false starts.

At the same time, there are extremely severe penalties for false starts, usually a penalty of at least 5 seconds or more.

Whether it's F4 or F1, a 5-second penalty is an unbearable cost.

Because motorsports are about pushing the limits of human and machine capabilities within the rules, not about luck.

Therefore, no one would deliberately jump the gun.

Lights out!

Start!

At the very moment 0.1 seconds after the lights went out.

Luo Xiu moved.

At the moment the lights went out, Luo Xiu kept the engine speed of car number 6 at the sweet spot of 4200 rpm.

At the instant the clutch engages, not a single bit of the enormous torque is wasted.

Like a bullet that has been precisely fired, it leaves the barrel in an instant.

There was no slippage, no hesitation, and all tires reached their ideal operating temperature.

The rear wheels gripped the ground firmly, converting 100% of the engine's torque into forward power.

Top-notch start-up response time.

This is the physical limit of human nerve conduction.

It is also the insurmountable chasm between ordinary professional drivers and genius drivers.

In the rearview mirror, the car behind was instantly pulled away.

T1, entering the turn.

Luo Xiu was not disturbed in any way.

He didn't even need to look in the rearview mirror, because even the second-place player was far away.

This will be a pole-to-win race with no offense or defense, no strategic maneuvering, just pure cruising.

The next 30 minutes.

Luo Xiu showed everyone what cruise control really is.

In T4, the sound of downshifting and rev-matching occurs at the same location with every lap.

The tire tracks at the braking points of the T9 overlapped every time.

The engine sound frequency of the T15 when exiting a corner was exactly as expected.

If you overlay all of his telemetry data, you'll be surprised to find that those dozen or so curves almost perfectly overlap into a single, gradually thickening line.

That's because the tire wears down gradually, and the wear is extremely smooth.

Luo Xiu's facial expression, like his car, remained completely still, requiring no corrections or intervention.

This was an incredibly boring yet perfectly executed drive.

Meanwhile, in the live stream, the new viewers who had just joined finally experienced what it meant to be lonely at the top.

Because the director was also helpless.

In the first 5 minutes, the camera frequently focused on Luo Xiu.

But later, the director realized that the shots of Luo Xiu were really too boring.

That red No. 6 race car will always be driving alone on the empty track.

There has never been a race before, and there will never be one after it.

Because he had been leading by such a large margin that the second-place runner couldn't even see his taillights.

The scene was extremely empty.

There are no reference points, no opponents.

The director could only cut the camera to the back of the room where a chaotic battle was raging, with everyone fighting tooth and nail for a P5 (fifth place) or P6 (sixth place) spot.

Don't worry about the technical aspects for now.

At least, it's lively here.

Only when you occasionally switch back to Luo Xiu, the tranquil, cruise-like scene creates a sense of disconnect from the race.

"Ugh... the chicken here in Malaysia is really awful, it's as dry as paper..."

In the commentator's seat, Xu Zihang looked at the leader's picture, which he couldn't quite describe, and even started chatting about Malaysian food out of boredom.

After all, there's really nothing to explain about the current situation.

Until the 25th minute of the match.

Finally, a race car appeared in front of Luo Xiu.

That's the same red race car that's currently in last place.

That was another guest driver, who was pushing as hard as he could.

But in Luo Xiu's eyes, this slow train was like a moving roadblock.

The long straight ahead of T15.

The Doppler effect of the engine speed difference allowed the driver in the slower car to hear that embarrassing sound.

I was in last place, and there were race cars behind me.

That means you've been lapped, in standard racing.

The car behind represents a driver from another dimension.

This is the most blatant and helpless insult.

Unsurprisingly, the blue flag.

He needed to let the car behind him pass as soon as possible.

Luo Xiu didn't even use the slipstream; he simply relied on the cornering advantage from the previous turn to easily pull off from the inside.

overtake.

In the blink of an eye.

The driver who was lapped even shook his head in the cockpit after being overtaken, seemingly questioning his own existence.

He thought he wasn't that slow.

But reality gave him a resounding slap in the face.

"I won the ring toss!!!"

Xu Zihang, who had been discussing which boxed lunch was the best, suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his roar so loud it made the microphone crackle.

Slamming his fist on the table seems to have become his signature move.

"F4 managed to lap the car! This is a standard race, guys!"

"This is a standardized race where all cars have the same performance! Luo Shen is leaving no room for anyone else!"

Xu Zihang's words became increasingly exaggerated, to the point that he spoke of Luo Xiu as if he had committed some heinous crime.

However, he would glance at the comments every now and then, and his expressions and movements were affected and exaggerated.

The live stream was a huge success.

The live stream chat exploded with comments.

Holy crap, that's like killing someone by attacking their spirit!

This is too brutal!

[Imagine the psychological trauma inflicted on that guy who got ringed!]

Holy crap, that's awesome!

At the same time.

The second-place finisher on the track, the Malaysian local favorite and arguably the strongest rookie driver, was currently experiencing extreme self-doubt.

His palms were sweaty, and his thigh muscles were sore from the prolonged high-intensity braking.

With each turn, he teetered on the edge of losing control while resisting lateral accelerations of up to two Gs.

He pushed himself to the limit on every lap, treating it like a qualifying race.

He was pushing himself to the limit; he felt he was going as fast as he could possibly go.

The tires were screaming, proof that the grip had been completely exhausted.

but.

When he looked up on the straight road, he saw only emptiness.

Only the air distorted by the heatwave.

You can't even smell exhaust fumes.

Where is he?