3:00 AM. Team Hawk Garage.
The lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows. The air was thick with tension and the smell of stale coffee.
The white VF-25 had been gutted. The GIA technical team had stripped it down to its bones. Engine, gearbox, suspension, even the ECU source code—everything had been turned inside out.
Christian, the Team Principal of Crimson Energy, and Fred from Scuderia Fire stood outside the yellow tape. They held espresso cups, waiting for the execution.
"Found it yet?" Christian checked his Rolex, impatient. "If you don't announce the disqualification soon, it'll mess up the Qualifying schedule. Just ban him. It's obviously an illegal traction control map."
Joe Power, the GIA Technical Delegate, crawled out from under the chassis. He was covered in grease. His expression was weird. Like he had just swallowed a fly and found it delicious.
"Well?" Koma asked, his voice trembling. "Did we... did we accidentally break a rule?"
Joe Power took off his gloves. He took a deep breath, looked at the rival principals, and spoke loudly.
"After four hours of inspection, we confirm..."
Everyone held their breath.
"The Team Hawk VF-25 contains zero illegal modifications."
Christian's coffee cup rattled in its saucer. "What? Impossible! Explain that drift speed! Did physics take a day off?"
Joe Power let out a dry, disbelief-filled laugh. He pointed at the pile of parts on the floor.
"Not only is it legal, but we found that the left rear damper is leaking oil. It's completely dead. And the carbon floor? There's a hairline crack in the chassis structure."
He turned to look at Ye Tian, who was napping in a corner chair. Joe's eyes looked like he was seeing an alien.
"In other words... Mr. Ye drove a car that was literally falling apart, with broken suspension, to the third fastest time."
BOOM.
The verdict hit harder than a cheating scandal.
If the car was illegal, it meant the driver was a fraud.
But if the car was broken... and he was still that fast...
Then the driver was a god.
Christian and Fred turned green. They wanted to expose a cheater. Instead, they just gave Ye Tian a GIA-certified badge of honor: Certified Monster.
"I... cough... I need to go." Christian put down his coffee and walked away fast. He didn't look back.
Saturday. Qualifying Day.
The Paddock was swarming. After the "3 AM Verdict," Ye Tian's fame had exploded. Everyone wanted to see the man who drove a broken tractor like a rocket ship.
As soon as Ye Tian stepped out of the Hawk Motorhome, a microphone blocked his path.
"Mr. Ye. Please hold on. I'm Snow Jiang from CCTV Sports."
The voice was cool. Clear. Like mountain spring water.
Ye Tian stopped and looked down.
Even in the paddock, which was filled with supermodels and influencers, this woman stood out.
Simple white shirt, press pass, tight jeans. Her black hair was tied in a high ponytail. Her skin was porcelain white under the desert sun. She had the classic "Ice Queen" beauty—professional, distant, untouchable.
Snow Jiang.
The goddess of domestic sports reporting.
She had originally hated this assignment. She thought Ye Tian was just another spoiled "Pay Driver" embarrassing his country. But the GIA report last night had shaken her.
"Reporter Jiang?" Ye Tian raised an eyebrow. A lazy, rogue smile played on his lips. "Even the serious state media is interested in a 'prodigal son' like me now?"
Snow Jiang frowned slightly, ignoring the teasing. She held the mic steady.
"Mr. Ye, the GIA confirmed your car has severe structural risks—cracked chassis, bad dampers. Domestic fans are very worried. For today's Qualifying, will you drive conservatively for safety, or..."
"Worried about my safety?"
Ye Tian suddenly took a step closer.
Snow Jiang instinctively wanted to step back, but her back hit the fence. There was nowhere to go.
The man smelled of soap and gasoline. A strong, aggressive masculine aura washed over her, making the Ice Queen's heart skip a beat.
"Reporter Jiang, do me a favor. Tell the fans back home something for me."
Ye Tian looked into her eyes. The playfulness vanished. Replaced by a terrifying, shivering confidence.
"Racing is a game for the brave. It's not a gathering for insurance salesmen."
"Also..."
He reached out. His hand brushed past her ear, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind it. The action was intimate, natural, like they had been lovers for years.
"The desert wind is strong tonight. Bring a jacket."
"Why?" She blinked, flustered.
"Because the shockwave I'm about to create on track... might make things a little cold."
Ye Tian turned and walked toward the garage, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.
Snow Jiang stood frozen. Her pale ears turned a bright, burning red.
She gripped the microphone tight, staring at his back.
"Arrogant jerk..." she muttered, biting her lip. "If you don't get Pole Position today, I'll write a scathing article."
But in her beautiful eyes, the disdain was gone. Replaced by a shimmering light called Expectation.
16:00 Local Time.
Q1 (Qualifying Session 1) Begins!
Green light.
Twenty of the fastest machines on Earth roared to life.
For Team Hawk, the goal used to be "don't finish last."
Today, everyone was watching Ye Tian.
"Okay, Ye Tian is out!"
In the broadcast booth, the commentators were hyped. "The chassis has been patched with tape and glue. The engine is old. Can he repeat the miracle?"
On track.
Ye Tian wasn't setting a lap time yet. He was warming his tires.
Ahead of him was a dark blue streak.
Crimson Energy. Max Vesper.
Vesper seemed to be sending a message. As he lapped Ye Tian during the warm-up, he deliberately cut across Ye Tian's nose, his rear wing dumping "Dirty Air" (turbulent wind) right into Ye Tian's face.
The Hawk car shook violently.
Trying to rattle me?
Ye Tian sneered.
A normal rookie would panic. But with the System, Ye Tian's blood only got hotter.
[System: Full Map Vision - ON.]
VMMMMM!
The entire track layout lit up in his mind.
"Gary. Give me the gap to the Dutchman," Ye Tian pressed the radio.
"He's 2.5 seconds ahead. Starting a push lap," Gary replied. "Back off, Ye. His dirty air will kill your tires."
"Negative."
Ye Tian flicked the paddle shifter. The engine screamed.
"I'm not backing off."
"I'm getting closer."
"I'm going to use his slipstream to send him home."
At this distance, using the "Slipstream" (the vacuum pocket behind a car) reduced drag and increased speed. But it was dangerous. One mistake, and you crash into the back of a $15 million car.
In Qualifying? Drafting a World Champion without asking?
That was declaring war!
The crowd gasped as the white Hawk car accelerated like a rabid dog, clamping its jaws onto Max Vesper's rear bumper!
Distance... less than 5 meters!
In the media pen, Snow Jiang crushed her notepad. Her eyes went wide with fear.
"Ye Tian... do you want to die?!"