After all the drivers had completed their second flying laps, no fan present could surpass, or even come close to, Dominik Corvinus.
Amidst a burst of cheers, Viktor playfully raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, causing the whole room to erupt in laughter. "I give up. If you can be a second faster than me in qualifying, I definitely can't beat you in a long run."
After all, it was eight in the evening, and everyone playing simulators at this hour were avid enthusiasts, many of whom were even Viktor's friends or fellow local drivers.
Surrounded by fans, Dominik took a group photo with everyone present at the shop entrance. After exchanging contact information with Viktor, they agreed to meet up the day after tomorrow to head to the Hungaroring Speed Festival together.
Dominik and Eszter walked out of the simulator shop. Dominik rubbed his sore shoulders; honestly, even after several days, the fatigue from the final F2 Championship race in Abu Dhabi had not yet faded.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and his agent O'Connor's name flashed on the screen.
"Are you in Budapest? Go find a top-tier simulator right now, the more professional, the better." O'Connor's voice crackled through the phone, sharp with electricity, and in the background, the crisp sound of a coffee cup being set down on a table could be heard. This was the first time O'Connor had spoken to Dominik so forcefully.
"Remember, it must support the Force Feedback Pro 3.0 system. Tomorrow morning at 9 AM—no, that's 3 PM your time—connect the equipment to this website." A string of URL-like gibberish popped up on Dominik's phone. "Don't ask why, just do it."
The busy signal after the call ended made the Budapest night feel jarring. Dominik stared at the screen, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the sponsor logo on his phone case. O'Connor had always been steady in his actions and respected his ideas, but this request clearly went beyond the scope of regular training.
Dominik patted Eszter, who was still planning to take him to a ruin bar in District VII, "Eszter, next time. I have a work call."
Eszter had originally invited several childhood friends from their old neighborhood, but Dominik had always been closest to her. The others at this gathering were merely acquaintances.
Eszter pouted, "Alright, I'll head out then. Send me a message when you get home." After saying this, she stood by the roadside to hail a taxi, while Dominik turned back towards the simulator shop.
In the neon night, the shop, which had just quieted down, saw Dominik walk back in, which puzzled Viktor. "Did you leave something here?"
"No, let's go talk in the back," Dominik pointed to the area where they had just had drinks. Dominik was a bit nervous at this moment, as he wasn't sure if this shop had a simulator with the Force Feedback Pro 3.0 system.
Viktor wiped his hands and listened to Dominik's explanation. He said that while the shop didn't have one, he had a high-end simulator at his private residence that could connect to the internet and was compatible with the Force Feedback Pro 3.0 system. He told Dominik to come find him after lunch tomorrow.
The next day at noon, winter sunlight streamed through the window onto the dining table. Dominik quickly finished his last bite of pasta, said goodbye to his parents, and got up to leave. Katalin and Gábor Corvinus looked at him with confusion, "Why are you always running out every day right after coming home? Are you going to make me a grandmother already?"
Well done—it turns out Dominik's free-spirited thinking is inherited directly from The Empress.
"Maybe he's busy with work, or has some preparations to do." If anyone else made such a joke, Gábor would definitely get defensive, but he truly dared not in front of The Empress at home.
On the elevated highway circling Budapest, Dominik drove his bright yellow 695. O'Connor's instructions and the roar of the Abarth repeatedly impacted his mind.
The engine roared, merging into traffic. The navigation showed 17 kilometers remaining to Viktor's house. Dominik lightly pressed the accelerator, and the Abarth, like an arrow released from a bow, weaved through the city. The trees on both sides of the road rapidly receded, and soft music played on the car radio, but it couldn't alleviate his inner unease. He didn't know what awaited him, only that sitting in that simulator might uncover the truth behind O'Connor's mysterious instructions.
Arriving at Viktor's home, a faint scent of sandalwood permeated the small yet exquisite apartment. Viktor extended a warm welcome. Dominik followed him through a corridor carpeted with geometric patterns, where a few racing-themed photographs were sporadically hung on the walls.
Until he pushed open the small study on the left—a wall of honors suddenly came into view. Chrome trophies reflected a cold light under the warm lamps. The silver cup at the very top had "2020 Central European Amateur Championship Winner" engraved on its base.
Viktor smiled and told Dominik, "I just like participating in regional competitions when I have nothing else to do."
Dominik was still slightly shocked. After all, how often do you meet a fan on the street who also happens to be a genius in the same circle?
"Have a seat," Viktor gestured towards the professional-grade simulator by the window.
The fully enclosed cockpit was paired with a 180-degree curved screen, and the force feedback steering wheel was still wrapped with anti-slip tape. Dominik squatted down and skillfully connected the device to the URL. Blue indicator lights lit up one after another, intertwining with the halo of the trophies on the wall to form a strange interplay of light and shadow.
There were forty minutes left until the appointed time. Dominik loosened his collar and climbed into the cockpit. The concave curve of the seat perfectly fit his spine, and the moment he gripped the steering wheel, a familiar gritty texture met his fingertips.
With a slight turn of the wheel, the Force Feedback Pro 3.0 system immediately responded, as if truly rolling over track seams. "The feel is good," Viktor remarked, noting he had spent a lot of money on this rig and that Dominik was the only other person he'd allowed to sit in it.
At the top of the hour, his phone vibrated. O'Connor's name flashed on the screen, with the roar of a racing engine mixed in the background.
"Dominik, every action is being evaluated this time." O'Connor's voice carried an unprecedented seriousness. "Some F1 team principals are watching the live stream. Your braking points, your shifting timing, even…" Before he could finish, Viktor quietly closed the door, his footsteps disappearing into the living room to give him privacy.
Dominik took a deep breath and clicked the "F1 2021 Start" icon on the screen.
As the loading bar consumed its last segment, the virtual cockpit's dashboard suddenly erupted in dazzling blue light, and the Monza Circuit appeared on the screen. The taillights of the twelve F1 cars ahead formed a continuous band of light.
"Give these team principals a show!" Although the phone call remained active, this was the last thing O'Connor said to Dominik.