My Formula 1 System
Chapter 442 - 442: No Rest For The Wounded

Formula One still continues.

Seven deaths by crash throughout history hadn't ended the sport. The eighth, no matter how harrowing or tragic, would not either.

It was the hard truth motorsport, and the world in general, had learned to live with. The wheel never stopped turning and the line would remain moving, season after season, year after year, and decade after decade. Finally, era after era, the cycle would keep going.

The calendar would never stay empty because this was literally many persons' means of income. Regardless of how much was earned, ranging from a simple garage janitor or a track cleaner, to a multi-billionaire like Mr. Marchetti, Formula One was still the core source of their livelihood. It was the center of everything for them.

So, no matter how deep everyone grieved, contracts would not be overridden, and the machines remained a global spectacle that needed to be flaunted on weekends like always. The tradition of Formula 1 racing had to continue, because if it didn't, Ansel's demise wouldn't be as historic or as memorable as it already was.

After the burial, and after the condolences that flooded everywhere, operations had been picked up once again to resume the season – possibly just to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Of the remaining calendar, two races had been respectfully scrapped. The first was Spain, where the tragedy struck, and the next was Qatar. The funeral was also held on the exact day that was supposed to be the F1 Qatar Grand Prix. The governments of Spain and Qatar would be compensated for their miss-out of the season. Obviously, Qatar would receive greater compensation, because absolutely nothing was evented there at all—not even a press run.

Since F1 action brought about economic boost, tourism, and national recognition, these countries wouldn't take it lightly. Especially Qatar. But yes, this was the least of the FIA's problems now. There were bigger matters on the table.

France. Azerbaijan. Italy. UAE.

Four rounds left. Four races. Three concluding legendary Formula racing countries, and one Mega Prix, the finale of a very miserable season.

Ansel had now been confirmed late in Trampos' roster and unable to compete forever. In his replacement was Victor, the skinny, tall lad whom the Trampos comrades had nicknamed Beanie.

Yes, he was an F1 racer. Officially. Just a fresh youth who had simply followed Trampos up through their promotion ladder, rising with the luck like many junior drivers did. His name was already written in white and waiting to be turned blue.

Victor had to face the tough reality that he wasn't just replacing Ansel for a one-time run, or making a tribute lap to carry the team flag. He was actually going to race the remainder of the season—four full-on F1 races, each with international weight and ruthless expectations. With the level of competition still active on the grid, he was already dubbed the weakest driver of them all. Some even argued the weakest in modern F1 history. And this wasn't the kind of sport where kindness covered weakness.

Trampos definitely grasped this better than any living soul. They understood it painfully well. And they weren't blind to the eyes watching. So of course, the decision had been made: at the end of the season, they were going to make major market purchases. In the meantime, Erik had been handed Ansel's engineering package, and Victor had been handed Erik's.

Another Ferrari team was in crisis too, and it was Jackson Racing. Their roster had just been totally cockeyed, and this spelled serious danger for their title run.

Luca had just been ruled out from competition... for the rest of the season, since the medical team officially declared a five-month healing time for his injuries.

This was early October. The season ends in late November.

Luca is currently second place in the standings.

Which means, inevitably—Luca will not win the F1 championship this season.

Celebrations had already broken out in Italy because of this outcome, but we'll come to that in due time. For now, Luca had to confront the grim reality that his title chase came to an abrupt and tragic end the very moment he leapt out of his car and ran toward the fire raging over Ansel. It stung even more when he realized it was all for nothing.

After all he had accomplished this season, despite the troubles and curses hurled from every angle, despite the enemies and their schemes—Luca still stood tall.

If DiMarco hadn't crashed him out in China. If Luigi's wing hadn't been suspiciously sharpened. If Rodnick hadn't gone to Ferrari with that ridiculous claim that Isabella was his girlfriend. Yes, Luca had figured that one out quietly, but he chose to say nothing.

Isabella doesn't bear his last name—not yet. And no one in Ferrari even knew she was dating Luca Rennick. So when whispers of him allegedly leaking Jackson Racing data to Trampos through her started floating, Luca gradually knew exactly where it had come from. It was Rodnick who had chirped that absurd theory into someone's ear.

It wasn't like Luca sought revenge. But what was happening now? This was going to come as just that.

Marcellus Rodnick had just been marked grey and placed under the FIA's official suspicion list. A full performance-enhancing drug investigation, just like the rigorous and humiliating process Luca had endured the previous year, was now being carried out on Rodnick.

If Rodnick was found guilty—which Luca was firmly confident he would be—then he would be hit with multiple forms of punishment, all of which would be revealed later alongside the final verdict. But one thing was already certain, and it was this: Rodnick was not going to retain his F1 championship.

Italy had never been more pleased with the recent cascade of developments. Luca Rennick wouldn't be racing for the rest of the season, and Rodnick was under temporary suspension until proven innocent. This left Jackson Racing—the mighty Silver Stallions—preparing to go to war with what? Di Renzo and one of their lesser-skilled reserve drivers.

This new reality essentially whittled down the championship contenders to three core names: Antonio Luigi, Davide DiMarco, and Ailbeart Moireach.

Meanwhile, Squadra Corse and Mercedes seized the global spotlight, stepping onto the stage with pride to announce the grand introduction of their first-ever High-Intensity Combustion Engine into the Formula 1 competition.

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