Before leaving Monaco, Luca and Ansel had made a pact that they would indulge in an extreme shopping spree in the dazzling city of Monte Carlo. With his spirits as high as the clouds, Luca's eyes flung open at the chime of the System's morning ring. He began his day just as he had for the past three mornings since the exhilarating Featured Race. Formula 1 had kept Circuit de l'Étoile alive and buzzing with excitement the very next day, stacking the lingering energy in the air.
Caught up in the jubilation of their victory, Luca and Ansel had barely spared a thought for the bigger boys and their roaring engines. Instead, they dedicated their time to recreational games and sightseeing, exploring as much of the stunning city as they could. The adventures strengthened their bond, creating memories they wouldn't soon forget.
Luca's daily routine started significantly earlier than most, a habit that allowed him to enjoy the hotel's gym in near solitude. Save for a few gym enthusiasts who couldn't help but glance his way, Luca had the space to himself as he worked out, shaking off any residual traces of celebration from the past three nights.
When he was done, he slumped onto a bench, towel draped over his forehead as he caught his breath. Finally, he reached for his phone.
The first message to pop up was from Mr. Fisher, filled with warm congratulations. Mallow's message followed, and then Harry's. Smiling, Luca responded to each one thoughtfully, ensuring his words carried the right tone of gratitude and camaraderie.
Realizing he hadn't checked the standings since the last race, Luca navigated to the Formula 1 info platform on his phone. His eyes lit with joy, his head slowly nodding instinctively as he licked his lips.
PROVISIONAL TEAMS' CHAMPIONSHIP STANDINGS (TOP5) Scroll for more.
Position | Team | Points
----------------------------------------------
1. | Trampos Racing | 113
2. | Bueseno Velocità Jnr. | 75
3. | Squadra Corse Jnr | 46
4. | Hatcherk Motorsport | 34
5. | Nevada HanSama Jnr | 12
Just as Luca was relishing Trampos Racing's commanding lead in the standings, a notification abruptly flashed on his phone, pulling him back to the present.
[Ding!]
[Training Program for Racecraft successfully generated!]
"Oh, finally," Luca muttered, his interest piqued. "Let's see what you've got for me."
[Retrieving Data....]
[....Data Retrieved]
The program outlined itself in neat bullet points.
[This side programme will focus on the following:
–Host will retrieve and recognize the names and faces of each F2 periodic driver, their respective teams and significant achievements.
—Host will spend an accumulated total of 25 hours watching past Formula 2 races, focusing on key races, strategy play, and rivalries.
–Host will review public telemetry data from F2 opponents during key races to predict how drivers behave under pressure.
–Host will run specific simulations under various conditions (dry, wet, twilight) that also introduce weather changes, while engaging in practice sessions where real-time instructions from engineers must be acted upon within seconds ]
Luca stared at the interface, his mouth slightly agape. A wave of disbelief washed over him as he processed the absurdity of what he was reading.
"Wow," he said, shaking his head slowly. "This... this is the most ridiculous program you've ever handed me. You're literally asking me to study like I'm in school—memorizing names and faces—and the only racing activity here puts me behind a simulation wheel. Not even a real one." He scoffed, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Are you sure this is the it? This is what I'm supposed to spend my time on?"
[Yes, host. With comprehensive knowledge of your opponents, you might be able to predict their moves before unlocking the required skill.]
[This programme will help you understand every element influencing the race and the game as a whole.]
Luca sighed, his eyes scanning the listed activities again. Twenty-five freaking hours of watching races?! Though it wouldn't all be in one sitting, it still felt overwhelming. That would mean watching at least fifteen full races, analyzing every detail like an engineer poring over a telemetry report.
The thought made his head spin. He leaned back for a moment, remembering how Mr. Grant had once again turned down his latest plea to place him for the next race. It wasn't surprising, but it left Luca feeling stuck. The reality dawned on him that he'd even have more than enough time to complete this rigorous program. But that time was something he desperately wished he didn't have.
"Alright. We'll get started with Amir when we're back in Berlin. For now, I've got a day planned ahead." Luca said, pushing himself up from the bench and grabbing his belongings.
[Certainly, host.]
[Good job, host. You can now head over to the next phase of your Daily Routine. Your time in the gym today is over.]
Luca left the gym, just as Haas and Beany where entering. They greeted like any one would before Luca moved through the doors, heading to the elevator.
On entering his hotel room, Luca wasted no time. He took a refreshing bath and ordered breakfast, a necessity since Sara hadn't been able to secure a room at The Celestial Riviera. The luxurious hotel was bursting at the seams, packed to capacity thanks to the immense pull of Trampos Racing.
After finishing his meal, Luca picked up his phone and dialed Ansel, who was staying just one floor below. Ansel answered groggily, clearly still shaking off sleep. He assured Luca that he'd hit the gym quickly and join him soon, but Luca didn't buy it for a second. Ansel was notorious for dragging his feet when it came to sticking to time. Instead of waiting around, Luca decided he'd meet him later at the mall.
Next, Luca called Sara, who had managed to find accommodation in a cramped motel about a mile away in the bustling heart of Monte Carlo. Unlike Ansel, Sara was already up and ready to go, promising she'd join him within minutes.
Luca felt empty and loose. Glancing at the mirror to recheck himself, he could see the reflection of his fitted navy blue sweater. The dark chinos beneath offered a more polished look for the casual outting he had in mind, and the clean white sneakers added a touch of ease and freshness. Luca didn't have much clothes yet, but he was determined to have that change after today. Le Grand Palais, here I come, Luca said inwardly, adjusting his outfit.
The simple, dark leather watch on his wrist was the only thing that brought his body together, but he still felt open. Luca then realized that it was because he was in a foreign city. Additionally, he carried nothing on him except his phone, which gave him the feeling of unpurposeful wandering. Luca bit his lip and searched for that one messenger bag Sara had gotten him.
"There you go," he whispered, slinging the gray bag across his body and rechecking himself in the mirror.
Satisfied with the composure the bag had given him, Luca stepped out, locking his room behind him. He made his way down to the hotel courtyard, where guests like himself moved about, immersed in lively social activity. His eyes wandered to an ornate fountain bubbling softly at the center of the space. Feeling the need to pass the time, Luca casually ordered a drink and a croissant, though hunger was far from his mind. He wanted something to keep his teeth busy and his tongue wet as he perched on the fountain's edge, scrolling through his phone.
To his surprise, a group of women dressed in white, obviously part of a rich club or something, approached him. One bent over and asked if he was part of the racing team that lodged in the other day, and Luca humbly answered positively. He nodded actually.
"Wonderful!" She exclaimed in a polished British accent, making Luca wonder how dynamic the world really was. "Could you join us?" she added, gesturing toward the lounge where her friends were gathered, sipping drinks and chatting.
For a moment, Luca considered declining. Yet, it was a harmless offer, and the hard concrete of the fountain was already making his butt uncomfortable. The group of women, varying in age, exuded kindness and refinement. With a polite smile, Luca rose, leaving his croissant behind as he followed her to the lounge.
He found himself seated in the middle of a cluster of rich, vibrant women, their laughter light and definitely uncontagious. They giggled and tossed their hair as they exchanged stories, their world seemingly a different plane of existence.
Luca remained seated, sunk in the plush, lounge chairs and listened to them animatedly discussing their latest travels and extravagant experiences. They sure didn't leave out gossiping about acquaintances, and debating on capital goods prices.
Luca listened intently, absorbing their stories while sipping his drink, his phone resting in his hand as he waited for Sara's call. He couldn't help but admire their confidence and charisma, their world seemingly perfect and stress-free.
As he anticipated, the conversation eventually shifted to him. To his surprise, the woman who had approached him earlier revealed that she was considering investing in Formula 1 racing. Unsure about the risks and rewards, she was thrilled to encounter a Formula 2 driver, believing it would be an excellent starting point to explore her interest while planning for the future.
"…and you finished second?" one of the women asked, her tone curious, as she swirled her index finger in her mug. Unlike the others, her face was refreshingly free of makeup.
"Yes," Luca replied with quiet confidence. "Just right after my teammate."
"Wow, you must be very good," the British woman remarked, her eyes lighting up. "And so young! You have a bright future ahead of you."
She began laying out her ideas, speaking animatedly about her plans to make Luca her first endorsed racer.
Oh my goodness.
How could Luca Rennick possibly say no to that?
She had even mentioned she was the owner of a cattle ranch in Norfolk and also owned self luxury accommodations all over the great country of England.
"Of course, madam," Luca accepted in a heartbeat but added a reminder that any real negotiations would need to go through his agent. The woman, Felicity, nodded in agreement, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.
As the conversation continued, Luca exchanged numbers with her, quietly wondering how much endorsement he might attract at the pinnacle of his career.
"Hello?" a voice interrupted from the lounge entrance, drawing everyone's attention. It was yet another British woman, clad in an all-black suit, trousers, and heels. Her shades obscured her eyes, but her sharp posture commanded attention.
Luca glanced up, astonished to see Sara standing there. Surprised she hadn't called ahead, he quickly rose to his feet, relief washing over him. Without hesitation, he introduced her as his personal assistant.
The women acknowledged Sara with polite nods and waves as Luca excused himself, leaving the lounge with her. Together, they walked toward the hotel entrance.
They drove to the Le Grand Palais mall, and Sara began discussing Luca's plans for a house, seeking his preferences to align the budget while ensuring maximum comfort and satisfaction.
Luca wasn't too sure the structure of a house he would like, but he sure wanted it to be quiet and peaceful.
Sara took good note of that, and sent to his phone an article featuring homes for sale that matched his slim preference
Luca bit his lip, his eyes settling on the varying price tags between the buildings as Sara pulled into the parking garage of the grand motel.