F1: In Ferrari, Schumacher at the start.

Chapter 101 Desperate Ten-Draw

The front page headline of *La Gazzetta dello Sport* reads: "Arrogance or Confidence? Chinese Rising Star Issues a Challenge to the Temple of Speed!"

Sky Sports' headline: "Ferrari hosts their opponent; can Lin Feng's boastful words come true?"

"Motorsport Column: The crowd at the Iron Buddha Temple is in a frenzy, putting increased security pressure on the Williams Racing Team this weekend."

Ever since Lin Feng made those bold remarks at the Dutch Grand Prix last weekend, his name has been at the top of the trending search lists on major sports media outlets.

Ferrari fans' anger was completely ignited, and online discussions about how to teach this arrogant Chinese driver a lesson at the Monza circuit have already reached tens of thousands of pages.

It's Friday, at the Monza circuit in Italy.

This legendary racetrack, located in the Royal Park on the outskirts of Milan, was completely submerged in a sea of ​​red today.

Outside the paddock, a reporter from a local Italian television station was holding a microphone and broadcasting live into the camera lens.

Behind her was a group of fans wearing red Ferrari team uniforms and waving huge prancing horse flags.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm right at the entrance to the Monza circuit. As you can hear, the atmosphere here is absolutely explosive!" The reporter had to shout at the top of his lungs to drown out the deafening noise in the background.

Whenever the Williams team's image flashed across the big screen, or Lin Feng's name was mentioned on the radio, the crowd behind him would erupt in a unified and deafening chorus of boos.

"This weekend, Williams Racing brought their most important upgrade of the second half of the season!" the reporter quickly explained to the camera. "According to the technical documents we obtained, they brought a brand-new low-drag rear wing and an improved floor, which are obviously tailor-made for long straights like Monza. However, this upgrade kit is currently only provided to Lin Feng."

The reporter turned around and pointed to the endless sea of ​​red people behind him.

"While the hardware is important, racing is also a psychological game. Faced with the intense pressure from over 100,000 fans, how will this young Williams driver perform? Let's wait and see."

While things were in complete chaos outside, the Williams team's rest area was eerily quiet.

Public relations manager Chloe stood beside the sofa, holding a thick stack of schedules, her face filled with worry.

Alexander Alben, holding a cup of coffee, stood next to Chloe, staring intently at the sofa with a similarly serious expression.

On the sofa, Lin Feng, wearing a blue racing team T-shirt, held an unopened can of sports drink loosely in his hand. He was slumped in the soft cushions, his eyes staring blankly ahead, his pupils unfocused, his mouth agape, completely motionless.

The hissing outside came through the soundproof glass in waves, but he didn't even blink, as if his soul had left his body.

-

"How long has he been like this?" Alben asked in a low voice.

"It's been almost half an hour," Chloe sighed. "Ever since he was yelled at by a group of Ferrari fans who blocked the bus when we entered the paddock this morning, he's been sitting here in a daze."

"I told you so," Alben shook his head, speaking with the air of someone who'd been there before. "Not everyone can withstand the boos at Monza. He acted all tough in front of the media last week, but now that he's actually there, this scene has probably terrified him. Anyone would be trembling in that situation."

"I think it's unlikely," Alben said sympathetically, looking at his teammate on the sofa.

The two of them were lost in their own imaginations, while Lin Feng, sitting on the sofa, hadn't heard a single word from outside.

He did indeed have an out-of-body experience, but not from being frightened; he went directly into the system space.

In a pure white space, Lin Feng was standing in front of a lottery wheel, jumping up and down in anger.

Although he didn't achieve the fastest lap time in the last race, finishing fourth and accumulating points from previous races meant he had just enough points in his system for a "high-level ten-draw".

The day after tomorrow, I'll be driving at speeds of over 200 kilometers per hour with a fever of 40 degrees Celsius during the main race. It's like walking a tightrope between the gates of hell.

Lin Feng's only hope now is to draw some life-saving artifact from the system. Even a "forced body temperature lowering potion" or an "ice silk cooling racing suit" would be fine.

"Thank God, Amitabha Buddha, may the Three Pure Ones appear and give me a fever-reducing remedy!"

Lin Feng clasped his hands together, bowed three times to the virtual roulette wheel, then gritted his teeth and pressed the "Ten Draws" button.

The roulette wheel began to spin wildly.

"Whoosh!"

The first ray of light flashed, a white light.

[Congratulations, host, you have obtained: one high-grade car cleaning towel.]

"Car cleaning towel? Do I need that rag?!" Lin Feng cursed.

The second beam was white light.

[Congratulations, host, you have obtained: one lemon-scented car air freshener.]

"Where would you find air conditioner vents hanging from an F1 car's vents?!"

White light, white light, and more white light.

The next few bags were all useless car repair tools and daily necessities.

Seeing that the dry bottle was about to run out, Lin Feng's heart sank.

"Is fate against me? Am I really going to be roasted alive in Monza tomorrow?"

Just when he was about to despair, the roulette wheel finally stopped.

"Buzz—!"

Accompanied by an extremely flamboyant electronic sound effect, a dazzling pure golden light instantly illuminated the entire virtual space.

Withdrawal!

Lin Feng was so excited he almost jumped up on the spot, his eyes fixed on the golden light.

A legendary gold-tier item! This is it! It's definitely a god-level talent or a life-saving remedy that can defy fate!

The golden light slowly dissipated, and a glittering golden card floated in front of Lin Feng.

Lin Feng swallowed hard and reached out to open the card's attribute description.

[Gold SSR Passive Talent: Iron Bladder.]

[Function Description: Racing is a long sport, and many drivers inevitably encounter the embarrassing situation of needing to urinate during a two-hour race. With this talent, the host's bladder water storage capacity and endurance will be enhanced to an epic degree. No matter how much water the host drinks before the race, the host will absolutely not experience any physiological urge to urinate before the checkered flag is waved.]

[Note: Mom no longer has to worry about me wetting my racing suit!]

Lin Feng stared in disbelief at the glittering gold card.

"Fuck your system!!"

Lin Feng let out a deafening roar, pointing at the system panel and cursing loudly.

"You call this a golden legend?! An iron bladder? I'm running a 40-degree fever! Do you understand high-temperature dehydration?! I sweat three liters of sweat in the car during a single game! Even if I were to drink from a hose, all the water would evaporate, so how am I supposed to pee?! What good is this crappy talent to me?! You might as well give me a bottle of fever reducer!"

The system completely ignored Lin Feng's rage: [Lottery complete, points deducted.]

Lin Feng was so angry that his vision blurred and he almost spat out a mouthful of blood.

I squandered all the points I had painstakingly accumulated, only to end up with a useless iron bladder that was completely ineffective in a high-temperature, high-fever state.

It feels like you're about to go into battle and take the bullets, but the logistics department gives you a comb and tells you that you can lose your head, but you can't mess up your hairstyle.

"Fine, you're not going to give me fever reducers, huh? I'll practice by myself."

Lin Feng took a few deep breaths, forcibly suppressing the urge to smash the system, and turned to walk into the virtual racing training room that the system came with.

This training room can perfectly simulate the feedback of a real racetrack. Lin Feng sat in the virtual cockpit, ready to begin his driving practice.

"System, activate the Monza track simulation and adjust my body temperature to 40 degrees Celsius," Lin Feng commanded.

Since we can't change the fact that we have a fever, we might as well get used to this pain in advance.

Sorry, the system cannot simulate the host's physiological disease state.

The system responded coldly.

Lin Feng was taken aback: "What do you mean? You can punish me by making me have a fever, but you can't simulate one?"

Physiological fever involves multiple complex biological changes in the host's brain and immune system. Virtual spaces can only simulate the physical environment and muscle feedback, and cannot create the symptoms of viral infection.

"Damn it, what a useless system, it fails me at the crucial moment." Lin Feng cursed under his breath, his mind racing.

Since we can't directly simulate a high fever caused by illness, we can only compensate by looking at the external environment.

The biggest obstacle to fever is the fatigue, dizziness, and dehydration caused by high temperature. Raising the ambient temperature will have a similar effect.

"System, set the track temperature to the highest level for the day. Also, raise the ambient temperature inside the virtual cockpit to fifty degrees! No, fifty-five degrees! And cancel the heat resistance physique!" Lin Feng gritted his teeth and gave the order.

[Ambient temperature has been modified to: Track surface temperature 60 degrees Celsius, cockpit interior temperature 55 degrees Celsius. Warning: This environment exceeds the limits of normal human comfort and may lead to severe dehydration and heatstroke. Please take precautions.]

"Enough talk, let's go!"

The next second, the virtual race car sped out of the pit lane and onto the Monza circuit.

heat.

The unbearable heat instantly enveloped Lin Feng's entire body. The cockpit temperature of 55 degrees Celsius, combined with the heavy fireproof suit and helmet, felt like being stuffed into a running oven.

Before he had even finished one lap, Lin Feng was already soaked in sweat, which stung his eyes as it streamed down his forehead.

The air I breathed into my lungs was scalding hot; with each breath, it felt like my trachea was on fire.

"Whoosh—whoosh—"

Lin Feng was panting heavily, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Monza is a track consisting of an extremely long straight and several deceleration corners, with an average speed of up to 250 kilometers per hour. On the long straight, the intense bumps and stuffy heat made his vision begin to blur.

The heavy braking area before entering Turn 1.

The speed suddenly decreased from 340 kilometers per hour to 80 kilometers per hour, and the deceleration of more than 5G violently pulled on Lin Feng's body. Under the scorching heat, his reaction was slowed by 0.1 seconds.

"boom!"

The race car missed its braking point and went straight into the run-off area, crashing solidly into the tire wall.

The simulation has ended.

Lin Feng sat down, wiped the sweat from his face, and gasped for breath.

This feeling is so painful. I can't concentrate at all, my body feels like it's been drained of all its strength, and actions I can usually do with my eyes closed now feel like a ton of bricks.

"Again."

Lin Feng didn't rest; his eyes became incredibly fierce.

The race car drove back onto the track.

On the first lap, a crash occurred.

On the third lap, he went over the kerb at the Ascari deceleration corner and spun out of control.

On lap eight, he lost control of the throttle at the famous Parapolica corner and slid off the track.

Failure after failure.

But Lin Feng showed no sign of stopping. In the sweltering heat of 55 degrees Celsius, he honed his willpower and muscle memory time and time again.

If you're dehydrated, use your willpower to hold on; if you're dizzy, bite your lip hard and use the pain to stimulate your nerves.

He wanted to etch the way he drove under such extreme pain into his very bones.

In the outside world.

Chloe and Alben looked at Lin Feng, who was still slumped on the sofa in a dazed posture, exchanged a glance, and sighed helplessly.

"Forget it, let him have some peace and quiet." Alben shook his head, turned and walked out of the lounge.

Chloe stepped forward, carefully took the can of drink from Lin Feng's hand, placed it on the table, then closed the door and left.

Lin Feng was the only one left in the lounge.