"Box... wait, what?!"
In the commentary box, David Croft's voice cracked from sheer shock.
But Croft didn't care. He stared dumbfounded at the sudden flurry of activity in the Ferrari pit box, mirroring the reaction of the entire paddock.
Had Ferrari... completely lost their minds?
"Tonight! For the third time! Kai Zhizhou is preparing to pit!"
"Wait! Or is it Vettel?"
"But whether it's Kai or Vettel, pitting now means giving up track position! Looking at the tires in the pit box... pink Hyper Softs. Ferrari must be going for one final, desperate gamble, using the Safety Car window to launch an assault on the podium. So, it has to be Vettel."
In that split second, thoughts raced.
At this moment, Vettel pitting was the most logical explanation.
Firstly, the Ultrasoft tires he put on way back on Lap 15 were undoubtedly dead.
Secondly, although he would lose position, falling behind Bottas and Ricciardo, the Hyper Softs would allow him to launch a ferocious attack in the final 10 laps.
It was a risk, certainly. But it was a risk worth taking for Vettel. If successful, he could challenge Verstappen for the final spot on the podium.
The noise in the pit lane was deafening.
Everyone knew the Safety Car was the best time to pit. But this was Singapore. Singapore, where track position is king over tires. Yet, Ferrari was active again, near the end of the race. Whoever the driver was, it was sheer madness.
Thinking about Ferrari's strategy today, no one could make sense of it immediately. It was too abnormal. They were breaking every established rule.
Rarely, both Toto Wolff and Christian Horner looked perplexed.
Especially Mercedes.
Kai pitting versus Vettel pitting presented entirely different problems, and Mercedes had to worry about vastly different scenarios.
In a flash, Wolff's attention locked onto Hamilton. Bottas wasn't important; leaving him out in the wild was fine. His only concern was the threat to Hamilton. Was Kai really going to pit?
"It's a bluff!"
Wolff slammed the table, then crossed his arms again.
In his eyes, this was a smokescreen. A clumsy imitation of Mercedes' own strategy at Monza. A poorly drawn tiger that looked like a dog. The timing was all wrong.
At Monza, Mercedes threw the dummy on Lap 15; their subsequent strategy could still control the race. But this was Lap 48. The race was ending. Ferrari's dummy carried massive risks. Even if they actually pitted, the time left to exploit the tire advantage was severely limited.
Wolff wouldn't take the bait.
It wasn't just Ferrari. Red Bull also joined the party, moving their mechanics into the pit lane. But Wolff ignored them completely. He didn't trust any of Horner's smokescreens.
Verstappen had no reason to pit. If Kai pitted, Verstappen would be the happiest man alive, inheriting P2 without lifting a finger. Why would Horner foolishly throw away such a golden opportunity?
"Stick to the plan. Lewis, maintain the rhythm. Everything is under control."
Hamilton couldn't pit, nor did he dare to.
If he pitted and Kai stayed out, the lead would change hands. If Verstappen also stayed out, Hamilton would drop to third. Even with a fresh set of tires, it would be useless on this track.
Hamilton wasn't going to pit.
And so, Hamilton drove past the pit entry without hesitation. In that instant, every pair of eyes in the stadium snapped to Car 22.
Then.
Kai pitted!
The crowd gasped, but the noise was instantly choked off.
Verstappen pitted too!
Dead silence. You could hear a pin drop. The world seemed to hit the pause button. The shock of Verstappen pitting was even greater than Kai's. Had Red Bull lost their minds?!
Millions of eyes locked onto the Ferrari and Red Bull pit boxes!
The Ferrari pit crew had been criticized and mocked all year. They had made multiple mistakes. Their pit stop efficiency ranked in the lower-middle of the pack.
However, today was different. They looked completely transformed. The focus in their eyes was sharp. They were intensely concentrated, their movements swift and precise.
"Hyper Softs!"
"Kai is released! Unbelievable! Ferrari's pit stop is even faster than Red Bull's! 2.1 seconds! Ferrari's best stop of the season!"
"Kai beats Verstappen out of the pits!"
The air froze. Everyone held their breath. Kai and Verstappen exited the pit lane nose-to-tail, both squeezing out just ahead of Vettel. Neither of them lost a position relative to the rest of the pack.
Wolff froze, unable to believe his eyes. The shock and surprise were so immense he actually let out a laugh.
Horner... no one knew if it was blind confidence or total insanity.
Clearly, Horner believed in Red Bull's performance in low- and medium-speed corners. He believed they had the pace to overtake the Ferrari. So he had decided from the start to bring Verstappen in. It wasn't a smokescreen, and he wasn't just copying Ferrari.
If Kai pitted, then both Kai and Verstappen would be on Hyper Softs and could push flat out. Horner believed Red Bull could beat Ferrari in a straight fight.
If Kai didn't pit, even better. Verstappen's Hyper Softs attacking Kai's dying tires? Red Bull would have victory in the bag. And if time permitted, Verstappen could even hunt down Hamilton.
Firstly, he trusted Verstappen's overtaking ability. Secondly, he trusted the Red Bull car.
So Horner took the gamble. If he lost the bet, Verstappen was still in P3. Nothing lost. But if he won?
Wolff shouldn't have been surprised. Horner had always been a gambler. The real surprise was Ferrari.
Wolff couldn't read them anymore.
As the pit lane calmed down, the tension on the track escalated exponentially.
Hamilton felt the confident pressure from Kai right behind him. Kai felt the eager aggression of Verstappen right behind him.
Behind the Safety Car, the gaps between the cars vanished. The atmosphere was a powder keg ready to blow.
Turn 10 was narrow, and clearing Perez's wrecked car was complicated. It took time. The Safety Car led the pack for five agonizing laps. Just as people thought it was finally going to pull in, Race Control announced they were letting lapped cars unlap themselves.
Instantly, the pit walls exploded in rage.
In theory, the FIA's intention was positive: clear the backmarkers so the leaders could race without interference. But in reality?
There were no lapped cars between Hamilton, Kai, and Verstappen. The backmarkers weren't affecting their battle. In other words, the only result of the FIA letting lapped cars through was burning more laps, keeping the Safety Car out longer, and compressing the time Kai and Verstappen had to launch their attacks.
"The FIA is blatantly protecting Mercedes. They have no shame."
"Damn it! The FIA really does stand for 'Ferrari International Assistance'... wait, no, 'For Inevitable 'Amilton'!"
"What, is the FIA scared? Scared a baby driver will overtake Hamilton again? Heh."
Anger, sarcasm, and attacks flooded social media. Ferrari and Red Bull immediately lodged protests.
However, it didn't change the facts.
The Safety Car stayed out. Only on Lap 55, after the pack was fully reorganized, did Race Control announce the Safety Car would pit on the next lap.
Radio instructions crackled. Hamilton was already dictating the pace within the rules, perfectly dominating the racing line. The air instantly tightened.
The battle was imminent!
"Hamilton will win!"
"Please, I'm so sick of Mercedes dominance. Go Kai!"
"Experience beats youth. Hamilton's got this!"
"Kai is young and hungry. Maybe that youthful blood will create a miracle?"
"Wake up, people, this is Singapore! P15 to P2 is already a miracle. Going for the win is a pipe dream. Snap out of it."
"GO! BABY DRIVER! GOOOOO!"
The boiling heatwave erupted. In the oppressive, humid Singapore night, the crowd couldn't hold back anymore. Like a dam breaking, all the pent-up passion was released in a single second. The Singapore Grand Prix had finally reached its climax.
The main grandstand was tense to the point of suffocation. People desperately needed oxygen. Their hearts could barely bear the weight, feeling like they might explode at any moment.
However, in the cockpit, the battle-hardened Hamilton remained entirely unmoved.
He didn't need Peter Bonnington to remind him of his disadvantage or his predicament. He knew it all. But with only six laps to go, he had 100% confidence in himself.
Even before reaching the pit entry, while the Safety Car was still leading the final sector, Hamilton began backing up the pack. He knew Kai was young and aggressive. He also knew Verstappen was right behind Kai, itching for a fight.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Hamilton believed Verstappen hadn't pitted for Hyper Softs just because he liked the color pink. If he could use Verstappen's impulsiveness and competitive drive, he could cleverly tangle Kai up. It was even possible that Kai and Verstappen might take each other out.
Facing the combined assault of the new generation, Hamilton was ready to display his veteran mastery.
Hamilton's backing up of the pack constantly tested the FIA's limits. Not only did he challenge the minimum speed delta, but he also brake-tested them at least twice.
According to the rules, suddenly braking behind the Safety Car can cause a chain reaction collision. It's highly dangerous and strictly forbidden. If proven, it's a non-negotiable 10-second penalty.
Of course, the problem was proving it.
Hamilton was experienced and incredibly sly. His braking occurred right at the corner entries. They weren't hard or long brakes; just brief pauses before quickly entering the corner.
From Kai's perspective, he could brake or not brake. Because of the Safety Car speed limit, a rear-end collision was unlikely. But constantly watching the Number 44 car twitch and stutter kept his nerves frayed and his rhythm chaotic.
And Singapore is nothing but corners, one after another.
It was absolute torture.
Kai wasn't one to suffer in silence. He complained directly over the radio. "Oh, it seems our clean, fair-racing Knight isn't so clean after all."
Pierre understood immediately. Kai was in the zone.
If Kai was annoyed, the driver behind him—Verstappen—was undoubtedly spewing a torrent of expletives.
Then, the Safety Car peeled into the pits. The green flag waved.
Hamilton bolted.
No waiting, no building up, no more tricks. He accelerated decisively. It was clean and fluid. He instantly opened up a gap on the exit, rocketing down the main straight.
The answer was revealed. Hamilton's earlier antics were all to set up this exact moment. The smokescreens were just interference, designed to ruin Kai's reaction time.
Unfortunately for Hamilton, he was disappointed. His scheme failed.
Kai's complaining on the radio was also a smokescreen. Kai knew a thing or two about these post-Safety Car tricks. He didn't fall for it. Through the final few corners, he didn't brake at all; he controlled his speed purely with the throttle. The moment Car 44 moved, he matched it instantly.
Seamless transition!
Verstappen was indeed annoyed, demanding a penalty over the radio. Yet, despite the distraction, he still displayed his feral, instinctual reaction time, sticking right to Kai's gearbox on the exit.
Lined up perfectly, the three cars tore down the main straight!
And then—
The climax arrived!
Without hesitation, decisively, Kai didn't waste a second. He launched his attack into Turn 1! He pulled out to the inside, slicing inward like an arrow, trying to claim the apex first.
Gunsmoke erupted instantly.
Hamilton truly hadn't expected Kai to react so fiercely, but once on the straight, his mind was clear. He had been watching Kai in the mirrors the whole time.
After multiple clashes this season, they knew each other well. Especially after Monza, Hamilton was holding a grudge, determined to beat Kai.
Hamilton still trusted his instincts, but facing the unpredictable Kai, he couldn't rely on instincts alone. He had to observe and build a database.
Inside line!
Hamilton deduced Kai was trying to maximize the advantage of the Hyper Softs with an extreme late-braking maneuver. With only six laps left, the tire delta was massive. Kai was using his attack on Hamilton as the best form of defense against Verstappen. Two birds, one stone.
Logically, with older, harder tires, Hamilton should have moved to the outside. There was no need to fight head-on. But the reigning champion didn't.
Because he knew DRS was disabled for two laps after the SC restart. Kai had to try and pass now, so he would inevitably be aggressive.
Therefore, Hamilton only needed to hold his racing line, entering Turn 1 as usual, just slightly wider than the standard line.
On the surface, it looked like Hamilton was being squeezed to the outside by Kai's aggressive attack. But in reality, Hamilton only shifted his line by a third of a car width. He still occupied two-thirds of the optimal racing line, squeezing Kai.
This meant Kai, lacking DRS, arrived at Turn 1 slightly later and couldn't claim the full racing line. He had to take an even tighter inside line. His cornering angle became incredibly sharp, and his path was narrow.
The space left for Kai to adjust was severely limited.
Hamilton hadn't broken any rules. In fact, he had proactively "yielded" space. If Kai forced the pass and caused contact while his front wheels weren't ahead of Hamilton's rear wheels, Kai would get a 10-second penalty, no questions asked. Forget the podium; he might drop out of the points.
This was the trap Hamilton had set in a fraction of a second.
If he were facing the reckless, impulsive Verstappen, Hamilton wouldn't have done this, risking a double DNF. But facing the rational, calculated Kai, Hamilton knew the trap would work. He pushed Kai to the edge of the cliff.
As expected—
Kai was completely squeezed. He couldn't push his braking point to the absolute limit. He had to brake slightly early, unable to fully utilize the corner, missing the optimal moment to claim the position.
However, Kai refused to surrender. He showed incredible toughness through the corner. Even though he was slightly slower, he stubbornly held onto his tight line.
Wheel-to-wheel! Shoulder-to-shoulder!
A millimeter's difference. Precarious. It looked like they were going to rub, maybe even crash. Silver and red were completely intertwined. But their steering control was elite. Incredibly, they leaned on each other through Turn 1 without making contact.
Then, Car 44 claimed the advantage entering Turn 2, biting the apex. The tangled red and silver arrows separated instantly. The silver car broke free, sprinted, and sped away!
"Beautiful!"
Croft slammed his desk, standing up.
"Hamilton shows absolute toughness and determination in Turn 1! Facing the charging Kai, he delivers world-class defense!"
"Unbelievable! Hamilton, on Soft tires that are over 40 laps old, withstands the first wave of attacks from Kai's fresh Hyper Softs and successfully shakes him off!"
Gasp!
Sighs of regret rippled through the crowd!
Kai had stuck to his line, but his left-side tires were forced off the track. Entering Turn 2, his grip fluctuated. He bounced and shook continuously. His mid-corner rhythm was broken. Not only did he fail to keep up with Hamilton, but the relentless Verstappen was now glued to his gearbox.
One second he was the attacker, the next he was the defender.
Sure enough, the predatory Verstappen didn't miss his chance. He had been waiting, aiming to be the fisherman who profits while the snipe and the clam fight.
In Turn 2, Verstappen peeked out from the inside, seizing the moment. He capitalized on the gap Kai left when his line strayed slightly.
Kai didn't panic. He held his racing line, aiming for the upcoming Turn 3. But exiting Turn 2, his steering correction was slightly lacking, pushing his cornering arc wider—Wheel-to-wheel!
Kai and Verstappen looked destined to collide. But in the crisis, both were incredibly calm and tough. Neither yielded.
Incredibly, their tires kissed lightly. Both cars shimmied. At high speeds, the slightest wobble turns into a violent storm. The turbulent air engulfed them both, but they both gripped the track in the storm, holding their lines.
Kai claimed the apex of Turn 3 first!
Verstappen: "He's blocking illegally!"
Kai: "He wasn't alongside! Illegal attack!"
In that split second, there was no time to breathe, let alone wait for a radio response. Both cars exited Turn 3. To correct his wobbling rear wing, Kai's "out-in-out" line was slightly wider, pushing toward the wall on the right to gain space to straighten the car.
Verstappen: ???
Fuck!
That guy deliberately squeezed his line! He practically ran him into the wall!
Where was the FIA?! Were they still blind?!
Before Verstappen could finish cursing, Kai had regained his balance and sped away, reopening the gap, leaving Verstappen fuming in the dirty air.
Despite the contact, despite the chaos, Kai had incredibly maintained his balance through the continuous attacks and defenses from Turn 1 to Turn 3. Relying on absolute car feel, he found stability in the storm, recovered his exit speed, and mercilessly wrung the neck of his tires, launching a full pursuit.
Hamilton hadn't even fully exhaled. He had finally managed to trap Kai, hoping the two youngsters would tear each other apart. But passing Turn 4, he saw that red Ferrari hauntingly close again. After blasting down Singapore's longest straight, Kai launched his second wave of attacks at Turn 7.
Climax after climax! A spectacular show!
Relying on his tire advantage, Kai launched a reckless, all-out assault. Like a fierce storm, wave after wave, he gave Hamilton no room to breathe.
Hamilton used the track layout, his experience, and his improvisational skills to defend. It looked incredibly dangerous, but miraculously, he survived every scare.
The awe in the grandstands was continuous, unending.
For a moment, they didn't know whether to marvel at Kai's relentless firepower or Hamilton's impenetrable defense.
"Wow..." Croft was running out of words. He didn't even remember how many times he had gasped. He looked helplessly at his partner.
Brundle was hyper-focused, afraid to blink and miss a detail. "Clearly, after the battle at Monza, Hamilton's fighting spirit is fully ignited. He realizes the challenge from Kai is real. The baby driver now has the ability to challenge the World Champion."
"However, Hamilton is also in his prime. Even with a tire disadvantage, he is utilizing the characteristics of the Singapore circuit perfectly. He's delivering a textbook defensive masterclass, announcing his presence to the paddock. It's too early to welcome the new generation to take over just yet."
"Hamilton. An unbelievable driver."
"If Kai wants to pass here in Singapore, he needs to use his brain!"
Three full laps!
Kai tried different methods at different spots, but Hamilton stood immovable, sealing off every attack.
Verstappen, following closely behind, made the race even more tense. The slightest mistake could hand Verstappen the advantage.
Never mind the drivers; the pit walls, the grandstands, the commentary box, and the viewers at home were practically suffocating. The closer they got to the end, the harder it was to breathe. The hot, humid air pressed heavily on their chests. Sweat poured down like rain, soaking their clothes. Their bodies felt like they were falling apart.
Lap 59!
The pressure climbed step by step. The finish line was so close, yet so far. There were only two laps left, but it felt like the race had been going on since the dawn of time, never to end.
If the audience could barely stand the torture, what about the drivers?
Lap 60!
Hamilton knew Kai wouldn't give up. Until they crossed the finish line, the race wasn't over. He didn't even have the energy to speak on the radio. He was entirely immersed in the track, constantly tracking Kai's every move in his mirrors.
At the same time, he strictly held his racing line, refusing to expose any flaws. Whether it was an overtaking spot or not, he never relaxed.
Just then, without warning, Kai closed the gap rapidly after exiting a corner, grabbing the slipstream.
Hamilton: ? What? What is he trying to do?
It wasn't Turn 5 or Turn 13. It was Turn 9. Yes, there was a short straight here, but the track was narrow, immediately followed by Turn 10. What on earth was this guy planning?
Even Verstappen was caught off guard and failed to follow Kai's rhythm.
Before he could think, Hamilton's heart clenched. Oh no!
The Ferrari red in his mirrors pulled out. Outside line.
Hamilton instantly realized: this was exactly how Kai had passed Bottas. At Turn 13, the youngster had gambled on this exact sliver of risk.
React! Move! Counter-attack!
Hamilton wasn't Bottas. His defense relied on instinct, but it was precise and efficient. No wasted movements, yet it always made the opponent uncomfortable.
He didn't rely on blocking; he relied on stacking advantages.
Just like now. Hamilton drifted slightly to the outside, trying to squeeze Kai's racing line.
But this time was slightly different. Because Turn 10 was the "Singapore Sling"—the death zone—Hamilton didn't intend to fully claim the outside line. But his outward drift was slightly more pronounced, squeezing the line to the absolute limit. Before entering the corner, he was trying to force Kai to back out, to brake and abandon the attack. There was no need for mutual destruction here.
Then—
The red blur in his right mirror dropped back.
Hamilton felt a surge of joy. Kai was smart after all. He wouldn't act recklessly on impulse. But before his nerves could relax, the red blur violently forced its way into his left mirror!
Shit. A dummy. A feint.
Hamilton forgot to even be surprised. Just a flat realization: The trap. So it was here.
No wonder Kai's attacks over the past three laps had been clean, direct, and straightforward, without any dummies.
On the surface, it was because the Singapore track is narrow and unforgiving of complex maneuvers; overtakes must be clean, or collisions happen.
In reality, Kai was fully utilizing the oppressive heat. The massive drain on physical and mental energy makes reactions sluggish and breeds habitual thinking more easily than on other tracks, especially after racing for nearly two hours. Lapses are inevitable.
Those direct attacks were all genuine. Kai had the tire advantage; if they worked, great. But if they didn't, Kai didn't mind. He was quietly setting up the board. Even the attack at Turn 10 was the result of meticulous calculation and planning.
Sure enough, the experienced, hyper-vigilant Hamilton had still fallen for it.
The trump card was hidden here.
Even Croft and Brundle in the commentary box were completely stunned, staring jaw-dropped at the screen.
They couldn't process it.
However, Hamilton was still Hamilton. The four-time champion's adaptability in rapidly changing situations was elite.
What now?
Force his way to the inside?
No. Hamilton knew that even if he steered left now to squeeze Kai on the inside, he had already lost the initiative. The tiny fraction of a second in reaction time could be the millimeter difference that allowed Kai to claim the position and the apex first.
He refused to be led by the nose. He had to find another way!
Decisively, Hamilton displayed his championship mettle. He didn't turn left; he continued turning right.
Following his previous trajectory and using the inertia, he widened his cornering arc. Using trail braking to maintain rhythm, he decided to fight it out based on mid-corner speed and exit traction. Because Kai had chosen to attack in a non-DRS zone, his entry speed should be slightly slower than Hamilton's.
So, even caught off guard, the outcome was still uncertain.
Millions of eyes focused on Singapore watched the silver and red tangle, weave, offset, and separate.
The silver blur hugged the outside wall of the "Sling," pushing the corner to its absolute limit, maintaining rhythm, taking it at high speed.
The red flash tightly hugged the apex, equally maximizing the corner angle, fully utilizing its grip advantage to square the car up aggressively.
One was fluid, the other fierce. One veteran, the other explosive.
The two drivers painted the corner with their distinct styles. The usually narrow and crowded Turn 10 incredibly yielded a fraction of space. Sparks danced in the air.
Ultimately, all roads lead to Rome. They converged again. The two streaks of light surged out of Turn 10, riding the wave of air.
Neither yielding an inch! Side-by-side!
Car 44 was slightly ahead by half a car length. Car 22 bit hard into the tarmac, the throttle engaging. The two cars ran neck-and-neck, locked in battle.
Smoke rolled, sparks flew—
Literally!
"GOD! Hamilton's front left tire locks up slightly! The sidepod brushes the wall!"
The world hit pause. All sound and movement vanished. People stared at each other, jaws dropped, frozen in place.
The tires!
After all the twists and turns, it was the tires that decided the outcome.
Gasp!
The entire stadium inhaled sharply. White smoke and sparks intertwined. Two waves crashing like mercury. In a flash, the silver blur was snagged by the smoke and sparks, its momentum dragging, its airflow stalling, its energy dissipating. Beside it, the red flash had its throttle pinned, flowing smoothly out of the corner and rocketing away.
Overtake. Lead. Flawless.
Scalps tingled.
"KAI! ZHI! ZHOU!"
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the overtake is complete! Kai Zhizhou officially leads the 2018 Singapore Grand Prix!"
As the words tore from his throat, the shock and thrill shot from Croft's feet to his head. His entire body trembled uncontrollably. He could barely stay in his seat.
"Unbelievable!"
"This... this is... unbelievable!"
The usually articulate Croft completely lost his words. His mind went blank for a second, staring dumbfounded at the live feed.
Finally, his surging passion reduced to a murmur. "Is Kai Zhizhou really going to win the Singapore Grand Prix?"
Lightning fast. A millimeter's difference. The battle was decided.
The Ferrari garage went completely insane. Jock Clear suddenly stood up, clenched his fists, and roared at the screen with all his might, ignoring everyone around him.
A glimmer of hope, a single ray of dawn. Even they knew it was a pipe dream. They needed a miracle. But the unyielding Kai had done it anyway. With an unimaginable performance, he cashed in that 0.01% chance, crowning himself King in Singapore!
Ah! Another roar!
Ah! And another!
Clear was in a frenzy, tears in his eyes, completely lost in the moment. He just wanted to vent every emotion inside him, like there was no tomorrow.
In front of his TV, Rocco Cesari couldn't hold back anymore. He stood up, staring unblinkingly at the screen. His heart hammered so hard it felt like it would burst.
Ferrari was in its darkest, most difficult hour. The victory at Monza was a timely rain for the Tifosi, lighting a beacon of hope. But the road ahead was long, and that faint light was too small to dispel the darkness. They still needed to huddle together for warmth, to endure this hardest of times hand-in-hand.
After Monza, they laid Marchionne to rest. They formally bid farewell to the old man dedicated to returning Ferrari to the summit, plunging into temporary despair.
But now, Rocco was certain. Marchionne hadn't forgotten Ferrari. God hadn't abandoned the Tifosi. Kai Zhizhou was their leader, their hope. That slender, youthful frame was shouldering the heavy burden, leading them out of the endless darkness to chase the dream.
In Singapore, amidst endless turmoil and chaos, Kai delivered another miracle, almost single-handedly hoisting the torch of hope.
Rocco couldn't control himself. He placed his right hand over his heart, feeling its strong, powerful beats. He knew that in this race, Kai was fighting for Marchionne, but even more so, he was fighting for the Tifosi, leaving absolutely everything on the track.
Thump! Thump!
Those heartbeats were the power calling out to Kai.
"Kai!"
"Kai!"
Across the vast Apennine Peninsula, from millions of corners, the shouts gradually merged, forming a force that pierced the heavens.
It crossed mountains and oceans, circled above the Indian Ocean, tore through the heavy darkness, and scattered the dawn's light.
Instantly, the grandstands in Singapore fell into collective hysteria. No one could believe their eyes. What had they just witnessed?! A brief moment of shock, of stunned silence. Before their brains could even process it, the passion had broken free from logic. Without even realizing what was happening, they heard their own voices exploding. The world began to shake.
It all happened too fast. From Kai launching the attack to shaking off Hamilton and speeding away... it took barely two seconds.
And then, it was reality.
They had hoped for a good battle. They had hoped Kai could write a miracle at his "half home race." They had hoped he could shine as a beacon for the Asian fans.
But when it actually unfolded, all words felt pale and insignificant, devoid of power. They all turned into mindless screaming machines. Hot blood roared through their minds. They shouted with all their strength. It was the only way to vent the passion and excitement boiling in their blood, instantly setting the entire city on fire.
BOOM! Like a volcanic eruption! The world instantly blurred into a mass of light and shadow!
~~----------------------
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