Chapter 325: 325: Verbal Sparring

Damn it!

Leclerc instinctively opened his mouth to defend Kai. Regardless of the situation, he had to stand united with his teammate.

However, before Leclerc could speak, someone beat him to it. "Are you saying our design is wrong?"

The anger flared, spilling over visibly, no longer contained.

The tension was ready to snap!

"I'm saying we are pursuing a peak," a voice replied calmly, meeting the challenge head-on without wavering in the tense atmosphere.

It was Kai.

Not only that, but Kai also stood up smoothly. This action acted as a warning siren, almost like a signal to start throwing punches. You could palpably feel the stifling, heated air in the room turn aggressive, like the ringside of a championship boxing match, with everyone clenching their fists, ready to strike.

Clap!

The back-and-forth exchange was sharp, the underlying hostility nearly suffocating. Without time to think, Leclerc reflexively sprang to his feet. His hands were clenched into fists by his sides. His chair tipped over backward with a dull thud, breaking the fragile balance in the room.

The air instantly tightened, ready to combust.

Leclerc was the first, but several other figures could immediately be seen shifting, unwilling to be left behind, preparing to explode. Kai caught this scene in his peripheral vision. Without giving it a second glance, he continued walking forward and casually dropped a remark.

"The boxing ring is outside. Please help yourselves. Just don't interrupt the rest of the meeting."

His breezy, unbothered demeanor naturally highlighted the absurdity of the situation, causing the figures preparing to stand to freeze mid-action.

Then, Kai added, "Charles, hold it in. All of Maranello already knows you're the reincarnation of Rocky."

Pfft.

Lotti was the first to break, laughing out loud. He leaned back in his chair and shadow-boxed a quick one-two combination in Leclerc's direction.

Leclerc was still a bit flustered by the situation, but having known Kai for a while, he quickly adapted to the rhythm. He spread his hands and shrugged lightly. "I thought I could keep that secret going a little longer."

The atmosphere instantly lightened. The previously hostile tension deflated rapidly, like a punctured balloon.

By this time, Kai had reached the projection screen, naturally drawing everyone's attention. "Look here."

He pointed to a dip in the curve. "In the wind tunnel, this segment is just a drop in data. But on the track, it translates to the steering going light. A half-beat light."

"It's like trying to pick up a single green pea. Using your fingers is easy enough. But try using chopsticks. You can still pick it up, but the effort and the result are different."

"A half-beat, at three hundred kilometers per hour, is likely a distance of two to three meters. When we see the outcome, we often assume it's understeer. And yes, it behaves like understeer. But what's the cause? What's the solution? What's the counter-strategy? The root problem might be entirely different."

Having made his point, Kai didn't linger at the front. He turned and walked back to his seat, returning the floor to Resta and resuming his role as a listener.

—"We."

Listening closely, the subtle detail in Kai's wording became apparent. He consistently used "we," not "you." Even though Kai and Leclerc hadn't been involved in the car's initial design process, he included everyone as part of a single unit, treating the drivers as integral members of the team.

During the heated exchange, this nuance might have gone unnoticed, but the overall mindset and atmosphere had subtly shifted.

Consequently, as Kai returned to his seat, a sense of belonging naturally took root.

Unaware of this subtle change, the room's attention had already shifted back to Resta.

Resta thought carefully for a moment. "So, you're suggesting?"

Unlike some engineers, Resta, despite being the Chief Designer, didn't carry unnecessary ego or pretense. He didn't pretend to understand what he didn't, nor did he refuse communication or remain stubbornly set in his ways. He was perfectly willing to acknowledge his limitations, eager to spark new inspiration through diverse dialogue, and happy to play his part within the team.

This applied to his interactions with Kai as well.

Of course, a significant reason for this was Kai's consistent approach. He maintained a respectful yet firm posture, engaging in dialogue as an equal. Exchanging opinions, brainstorming, and bouncing ideas off each other was an enjoyable process, and Resta fully embraced it.

As expected, Kai did not disappoint.

"Our current design concept is to take the foundation of the SF90 one step further."

"What does that mean? It means taking an existing limit and pushing it even further."

"The upgrade bottlenecks we faced at the start of the season are sitting right in the path of the SF1000's development. The limit exists on a single, sharp point."

Kai raised his right hand, bringing his fingers together in a classic Italian gesture.

The room understood immediately, all eyes naturally drawn to his hand.

"It fails on cold tires, fails on long runs, balance drifts with fuel load changes, and the moment the aerodynamic correlation is off, the entire package loses fidelity."

"We aren't designing a fast race car. We are trying to build a perfect car that only exists in the ideal conditions of a laboratory."

"While we all strive for the ultimate and chase perfection, deep down, we know perfection doesn't exist. Just like Icarus chasing the sun. If we stubbornly keep flying toward it, the wax wings will begin to melt, and gravity will grab us by the ankles."

A subtle restlessness stirred in the air, yet miraculously, the room remained incredibly quiet.

Noise and tranquility—two contradictory concepts coexisting in the same space.

Some crossed their arms in a defensive posture; some frowned in deep thought; some looked down at their notes; some exchanged glances with their colleagues.

Resta didn't rush. He pondered quietly for a moment, then looked up at Kai. "Are you suggesting we abandon downforce?"

"No." Kai's response was swift. He shook his head. "I'm suggesting we abandon the single-point limit."

"I know the team believes in its drivers. We have the most talented and gifted driver lineup on the grid. The drivers can always solve any problem."

"On that point, I agree."

Seeing his unabashed, deadpan self-praise, Binotto couldn't hold back. A smile touched his lips, his entire expression relaxing.

Leclerc's expression was slightly odd. He barely managed to suppress a smile, covertly observing the reactions of the others out of the corner of his eye.

The tension was melting away.

"However, talent is not a skeleton key. If the car cannot withstand the limit, then everything will fall apart, and no one will be able to save it."

That was precisely the unique nature of motorsport.

As his words settled, a subtle shift occurred in the room. They finally realized that Kai wasn't trying to change a single setup, a specific data point, or a single design element. He was trying to change the entire concept:

A design philosophy!

But, if they didn't pursue the absolute limit, should they learn from Mercedes and continuously explore balance and forgiveness?

Resta found himself torn.

Binotto noticed immediately.

Inclusive, rational, and mild—these were Resta's strengths, but also his weaknesses. You can't have it both ways. It was because of these traits that Maranello had found a harmonious balance in collaboration. Naturally, it also meant dealing with hesitation and back-and-forth during the process, stumbling forward.

Binotto, who had been silently observing, chose this moment to intervene, playing the crucial role of bridging the gap and threading the needle.

"But, Kai, you know that low-to-medium speed corners have been a severe issue for us, starting from the 2016 season and continuing until now."

"If we don't increase downforce, we will continue to struggle with the same problems next season."

Car design is about finding the most suitable solution among various possibilities and pitfalls. There is no single correct answer in Formula 1. Ferrari had an engine advantage and a driver advantage. How to utilize these strengths to find a perfect balance within the car—

That was the true science.

It was also the reason Kai insisted that he and Leclerc participate in the SF1000 design process.

Car design couldn't be a matter of 'having your cake and eating it too.' They had to fully utilize the chips they held, maximizing strengths to cover weaknesses, including their drivers.

It wasn't about abandoning downforce; it was about not swinging from one extreme to another.

Kai met Binotto's gaze. "Right, but the issue isn't the absolute value. It's the loading sequence."

"Hmm?" Binotto tilted his chin slightly, expressing mild confusion, signaling Kai to continue.

Kai comfortably addressed the room. "Currently, the front axle loading is delayed. On the initial brake application for corner entry, the rear axle stabilizes first, while the front axle lags a beat. I have to wait for the front tires to enter the operating window before I can push."

He used the Italian hand gesture again to accompany his words, instantly making the concept more vivid.

"A simple example: if the loading sequence is advanced by 0.1 seconds, the braking point can be pushed back by half a meter to a meter."

During the exchange, Cardile couldn't hold back. Before his team could act impulsively, he joined the conversation. "But that's a suspension geometry issue, not aerodynamics."

"It's an integration issue," Kai corrected.

Turning his head, Kai looked brightly at Cardile. "The floor edge vortices are too sensitive right now. A one-millimeter change in pitch, and the downforce immediately drifts."

Cardile fell into deep thought, his brow furrowed. "Your suggestion?"

"Reduce the complex structures on the edges," Kai said.

Buzz—buzz—

The aerodynamics team instantly reacted. A rustling agitation flared up, and a voice called out from the crowd, "Simplify? We just added multi-element turning vanes."

Kai shrugged lightly. "Complex doesn't mean efficient. Sometimes, less is more. And sometimes, more is just... more."

Binotto glanced at the bustling crowd in the conference room. A large group was entirely focused on Kai, yet they still couldn't gain the upper hand in the debate.

Binotto was about to speak again to steer the topic back, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Resta's movement. He swallowed his words, leaned back in his chair, and adopted a listening posture.

Resta had organized his thoughts. Designing a Formula 1 car was never simple; it required meticulous, detailed work.

"What is your proposal?" Resta looked over, staring intently and seriously at Kai.

Kai's eyes shone brightly. "Shift the target from 'maximum downforce' to 'maximum efficiency window.' We still need to explore the car's limits, but instead of chasing 100% of a single point, we chase 80% across a broader plane."

Resta asked, "A broader plane?"

Kai nodded. "An operating window." He thought about how to express it accurately and used hand gestures again. He flattened his right palm and rested it on the tip of his left index finger, creating the image of a platform resting on a peak. "A window that allows the driver to explore and extract performance. Within this window, the car design pursues the limit. But exactly how much of that limit can be extracted, and how high that limit can be pushed, is entirely dependent on the driver. It challenges the driver's own ceiling."

"First, we can fully utilize our advantages: the engine, the drivers—I'm not sure, the entire design team?"

A soft chuckle rippled through the conference room.

"Second, we can maintain a degree of stability and forgiveness in the car, improving its adaptability to different tracks and varying weather conditions."

"By doing this, we can avoid a rollercoaster season—performing brilliantly in Bahrain, only to fall apart in Barcelona. Please, let's stop the media from hurting our young driver. He's not losing sleep at night because of the pressure his teammate is putting on him."

"For God's sake, he never gets enough sleep as it is."

Swish, swish, swish—

All eyes turned toward Leclerc.

Leclerc, who had been lost in the technical jargon and struggling to keep up, hadn't reacted at all. His head was full of question marks. He looked left, then right, before finally realizing Kai was teasing him. He covered his face with his hands in frustration. "God, Kai!"

His exaggerated sigh of despair ignited the room, and everyone burst into laughter.

Amidst the joy, Lotti noticed that Cardile was zoned out. While everyone else was laughing, Cardile was deep in thought.

He gave Cardile a light kick. "Ah!" Cardile yelped. Looking up, he saw Lotti's wide eyes, silently asking: What are you spacing out for?

Cardile had momentarily slipped back into his thoughts.

But it didn't last long this time. He ignored Lotti and turned sideways to face Kai. "In the second half of the lap in Hungary, when the crosswind exceeds 8 degrees, how do you prefer to handle it? I mean, your personal preference."

An idea tossed out, like casting a brick to attract jade, instantly sparked the entire conference room.

Cardile had just realized that their car design data was sourced entirely from the simulator. They built the architecture on a theoretical level, chasing an extreme, trying to unlock the car's full potential. But the result of this approach was that the drivers, the tracks, the weather, and the opponents all had to adapt to them.

Of course, if the car was fast enough—the only true 'spaceship' on the grid—this wouldn't be a problem.

But what if it didn't reach that height?

Setting everything else aside for a moment, Cardile could be one hundred percent certain that their competitors would absolutely not adapt to accommodate Ferrari.

Now, following Kai's suggestion, they should leave an operating window to extract the limit, rather than stubbornly going down a single, narrow path. The possibilities opened up instantly, like pushing open a door to a new world. Ideas and inspirations flooded in.

Where should this window be positioned? Where should the balance point of this polygon land? Which factors should it be closer to, and which should it be further from?

As Kai said, the SF1000 should fully utilize its advantages to carve out this window. And Ferrari's biggest current advantage was its drivers.

Whether it was Kai or Leclerc, they were currently the most talented drivers on the grid. Therefore, if they could fully utilize this advantage to design the car, leaving a sufficient operating window to ensure both limits and stability, and ultimately leaving the decisive battle to the drivers on the track, they could, as a team... pursue perfection and the absolute limit.

Relying solely on one force at this stage made it impossible to design a perfect car. Even the W10 couldn't be called perfect. But relying on the power of the team—cooperating, depending on each other, complementing each other—even if perfection remained elusive, they could try to touch its boundaries.

In the past, Maranello always harbored a prejudice: if they trusted the driver too much, it was equivalent to building the car around the driver. The driver might transfer, the team and the driver might split, the driver might betray them. That was one aspect. The real core issue was the fear that Ferrari's brand value might be diluted, sacrificing their dignity and pride.

Naturally, the driver should adapt to the Ferrari car. How could Ferrari actively adapt to the driver?

This prejudice had settled deep, and even now, it hadn't fully dissipated. Not just within the Maranello base, but a significant number of Tifosi held similar views.

"Ferrari! It's a different religion."

However, Cardile's mindset was quietly shifting. This wasn't a compromise, nor was it a surrender. There was a much better word to describe this situation:

Collaboration.

A race car sitting there is just a machine. Even a Ferrari is no exception. It isn't until someone grips the steering wheel and sits in the cockpit that the car truly gains a soul.

Therefore, if the car was to achieve perfection, they had to take the driver into account, working together for a mutual victory.

For complex problems, the solutions can sometimes be... remarkably simple.

When drivers enter the car design blueprint as collaborators rather than just tools, acting as a variable that disrupts the established order and overturns the structure, forcing a re-examination of the entire design philosophy, framework, and flow, perspectives begin to change. And then—

Inspiration sparks.

Is it simple? Yes, incredibly simple.

But in reality, this 'simple' sentence is hundreds, thousands of times more difficult than one might imagine. Even today, there are plenty of teams in the paddock that refuse to take this step.

It wasn't just Kai. Cardile also began to inquire about Leclerc's choices, habits, and understanding when operating at the limit, to restructure the entire picture.

The chassis team started it off, and others gradually caught on. Eager not to be left behind, the tire, power unit, and aerodynamics teams opened their minds and joined the discussion. They threw questions and pitched ideas at each other. It was like opening Pandora's box, releasing a flood of whimsical and brilliant thoughts. The friction between theoretical planning and practical on-track experience sparked brilliantly. The atmosphere could no longer be contained.

Chirp—chirp—

The midsummer heat remained intense. The rolling heatwave threatened to melt the world, but the meeting showed no signs of ending.

It was hard to believe the meeting had lasted from morning until afternoon. Eight hours had passed, yet the room was still buzzing with energetic discussion.

Kai let out a long breath. His head was crammed with a jumbled mess of thoughts, swollen and crowded. When the meeting finally ended today, it wouldn't just be the engineers; he and Leclerc would need to review and organize everything when they got back. Cramming such a massive amount of information in a single day left him dizzy.

Before he could finish stretching, Kai caught sight of a figure pacing back and forth outside the frosted glass window, acting suspiciously.

Who was it?

This was the innermost and most secure area of the Ferrari base. Any entry required strict vetting. A spy obviously wouldn't be this brazen.

This caught Kai's curiosity, and he took a closer look. Through the silhouette cast on the frosted glass, the figure seemed vaguely familiar.

A second later, before he could process the thought, the figure stopped right outside the conference room door.

His thoughts halted. Kai reacted instinctively, continuing his stretch and letting out a large yawn, but then hurriedly catching himself.

He looked like a high school student caught spacing out in class just as the homeroom teacher walked in.

Right on cue, the conference room door pushed open. Eyes met. The air thickened.

Kai looked at Elkann. Elkann looked at Kai.

Kai quickly composed himself, adjusting his posture. He sat up slightly straighter, leaned against the backrest, crossed his arms, and adopted a defensive posture. In contrast, his mouth curled into a smile, his expression relaxed, attempting to present a casual, confident demeanor, as if he were thoroughly enjoying himself.

It was slightly flustered, but it was all instinctual.

The newcomer was indeed John Elkann.

Elkann had deliberately avoided knocking, aiming for the element of surprise, to catch everyone off guard.

To catch them red-handed.

Although Kai reacted quickly, amidst the bustling, red-faced discussions in the room, he appeared somewhat out of place and excluded.

More importantly, his eyes were still slightly watery from the yawn, and he hadn't had time to wipe them clean.

A smile grew in Elkann's heart. He felt reassured.

This scene suited him perfectly.

Elkann didn't want to see infighting; he knew internal chaos could lead to disaster. But equally, he didn't want to see the technical faction entirely united, especially if the engineers and Kai had reached a consensus, operating as one, or even worse, aligning themselves entirely with Kai.

That would be bad. It would mean Kai had the support of the Tifosi and the unity of the technical faction, giving him the true power to oppose management.

Losing control was one possibility, but the real danger lay in Kai positioning himself above the brand, above Elkann, and even above the Group.

Ferrari would not allow such a thing to happen.

No one could supersede the 'Ferrari' brand. Everything had to be a part of it. Even the sport of F1 was a commercial endeavor for Ferrari to maintain its image. If a mere driver broke these constraints and symbolized Ferrari more than Ferrari itself, that would be unacceptable.

Kai could be an idol, a symbol, or even a leader, but he had to remain 'Ferrari's captain.'

There was a boundary here. In theoretical discussions, it was clear and firm, absolutely not to be crossed. But in practical, everyday life, it was ambiguous, blurry, and hard to define accurately.

A sudden ambush, and Elkann saw exactly what he wanted to see. The tension around his mouth eased.

When Elkann noticed Leclerc sitting nearby, he was slightly surprised, his nerves tightening. But he quickly observed Leclerc's blank, information-overloaded expression. His body was in the conference room, but his soul had already drifted into outer space. The tense string in Elkann's mind relaxed again.

Clearly, Kai was trying to reel Leclerc in as an ally, but it had backfired. Leclerc was no help; in fact, he was probably a hindrance.

Engineers loathed laymen who pretended to understand and tried to dictate terms: I've told you before, drivers just need to drive. An idiot who knows nothing about car theory shouldn't be showing off in front of professionals and making a fool of himself.

With one entrance, the entire scene was taken in. Elkann's lips curved upward into a graceful, composed smile.

The discussion came to an abrupt halt as all eyes turned toward him. Elkann nodded slightly. "How is progress? Is everything going smoothly?"

He surveyed the room, but his gaze ultimately rested on Kai, offering an inquiring look.

Resta was about to speak, but catching Binotto's eye, he swallowed his words and looked confusedly at the slightly awkward Kai.

Everything had been fine a moment ago. Now Kai was sitting stiffly. Was he stiff and sore from sitting too long?

"Yes, couldn't be better." Kai responded as casually as possible. Noticing Elkann's gaze, he was a beat slow in dropping his arms and sitting up straighter. He looked as though he was sitting on a hedgehog, trying to present an attentive posture, but the action betrayed a hint of tension.

A smile touched Elkann's eyes. Perhaps he was worrying too much. Kai's talent on the track was undeniable, making him proud and arrogant.

But real life wasn't that simple.

The scheming and maneuvering off the track were incredibly complex. Interests, power, prestige, dignity—the problems that couldn't be solved by racing talent alone were endless. The stubbornness and arrogance of these Maranello engineers had a long history. How could they be conquered in a mere six months by this wet-behind-the-ears kid?

There was no need to scare himself like a startled bird. It wasn't befitting a leader.

Kai seemed to finally realize the awkwardness and tried to regain control of the situation. "Perhaps the only regret is the sweltering heat. We're all parched. We're starting to miss afternoon tea and desserts. A cold soda would save our day right now."

As breezy and natural as ever, yet it perfectly exposed his 'panic.'

Elkann's mood was lighter and more relaxed than it had been in a long time. "Of course. Of course! Afternoon tea is on me. A reward for everyone's hard work. One dessert and one drink each, put it on my tab."

With that, Elkann looked meaningfully at Kai. "Captain, why don't you do the honors and take everyone's orders?"

In his memory, this was the first time Elkann had called Kai 'Captain.' But the implications of that title were profound. It carried weight.

Kai understood immediately. His smile bloomed, and he stood up briskly. "Of course. It's my pleasure!"

The air was slightly warm. Elkann turned to leave. His right hand, resting on the door handle, didn't let go immediately. He stood at the door and listened for a moment.

"Tiramisu! Latte! Hot!"

"A latte? Are you kidding? If you drink a latte now, what about dinner?"

"Where are we buying the desserts? I don't want tiramisu."

"Is wine an option? Honestly, I desperately need some alcohol."

"Kai, if I say I miss your tea—Chinese tea, not English afternoon tea—will you hit me?"

That single sentence popped out amidst the dense chatter. The next second, the entire room erupted in laughter. One moment they were discussing desserts and drinks, the next they were talking about tea from the ancient East. "Real tea." When Kai quipped back, "I didn't know Italians had started appreciating tea," the room practically exploded.

It was lively and noisy, with everyone talking over each other.

Elkann nodded in satisfaction and finally pulled the door shut completely. He could faintly hear Kai's exasperated voice.

"Desserts! Let's start with desserts. We'll do drinks later, ahhhhh—"

Elkann didn't pause again. He straightened his back and strode away.

Unfortunately, Elkann missed what happened next.

Kai had kept an eye on the figure in the hallway out of his peripheral vision, waiting patiently for him to leave. Even then, he didn't drop his guard completely, in case the man decided to double back and ruin his efforts. Still, he added a few harmless jokes to the conversation.

"...Alcohol, why not? I'm sure it's 9 PM somewhere in the world. And of course, if you want to learn how to appreciate tea, I don't mind acting as a cultural ambassador. Though I think it would be pearls before swine; you wouldn't understand it anyway. To be honest, I don't even fully understand it myself."

Haha! Hahaha!

Laughter filled the room. The conference room was immersed in a joyful, relaxed atmosphere.

Sitting nearby, Leclerc was the most perceptive. He noticed the subtle shift in Kai's mood. His head was full of theories and data, and Elkann's entrance hadn't been enough to clear the fog, but he still sensed something was off and looked at Kai.

"Is everything okay?"

Kai looked back, the smile in his eyes brightening, and patted Leclerc on the shoulder. "No, it's not. There are too many people here, and I can't take all these orders. Charles, I need your help."

Leclerc nodded blankly. "Sure, that's not hard."

Even though Leclerc knew Kai hadn't answered his question, the important thing was that he didn't know what was going on either. His muddled brain couldn't untangle the threads. All he needed to know was that Kai had openly asked for his help. That was enough.

Leclerc stood up and started helping with the orders. Things finally proceeded smoothly.

Kai glanced at the hallway again out of the corner of his eye.

No one was there.

His tense nerves finally relaxed completely. While he wasn't entirely sure of Elkann's intentions, it was obvious Elkann wanted to see continued friction between the drivers and the engineers. To Elkann, that meant he was still in control.

If the technical faction united tightly, the management faction would have a headache. Once management perceived a threat, they might proactively disrupt the balance. The equilibrium Maranello had spent so much effort to find could be overturned once again.

Because of this, Kai had played along, putting on a show to satisfy Elkann's petty games.

It was all an act. Until the technical faction was truly and completely united, they needed to continue playing the role of adversaries in front of management.

Especially the two leaders: Kai and Binotto.

However, Kai had no interest in dealing with these things. It wasn't that he couldn't, but that he didn't want to. His interest lay on the track; he truly had no desire to play these games. But he couldn't ignore them either. He knew Elkann wouldn't just sit quietly. He needed to inform Nicholas and Lorenzo and let them handle it.

Perhaps he should inform Binotto as well.

Trust is mutual. Binotto had been cooperating with Kai within his capabilities. Now it was time for Kai to return the favor and show trust.

Binotto felt the warmth of a gaze and looked over.

It was Kai.

Kai smiled, a tacit understanding glowing in his eyes. They exchanged a look, and Kai lifted his chin. "Mattia, what do you want?"

Binotto replied, "A glass of Pinot Noir?"

The room erupted in laughter, everyone jeering and joking.

Binotto maintained his usual calm demeanor. The eyes behind his glasses were serene and open, but the exchange of glances revealed a shared understanding.

The smile on Kai's face grew. He kept his eyes on Binotto but shouted, "Alright, alright, Pinot Noir sign-ups! Raise your right hands high!"

Roar—

Amidst the cheers and jeers, the atmosphere in the conference room reached a minor peak, sweeping away the exhaustion and busyness of the long day.

Whether the British Grand Prix would serve as the turning point in the championship battle remained to be seen. That would only become clear when they looked back at the end of the season. Everyone believed it was a turning point, but the subsequent reactions of the teams were the real focus. Their counterattacks and form would determine the true impact of the British Grand Prix. Undeniably, however, the atmosphere in the paddock had shifted.

Mercedes and Ferrari were busy, operating at high speed. Red Bull was no exception. Rumors flew thick and fast through the paddock.

Word was that Marko was deeply dissatisfied with Red Bull's abysmal performance at Silverstone. They should have capitalized on the momentum from the Red Bull Ring to surge forward, but instead, they were overtaken by Ferrari. Not only was their on-track performance disappointing, but the pit wall strategy also failed to mount a challenge.

At Silverstone, Red Bull had essentially been relegated to background characters in the heavyweight clash between Mercedes and Ferrari. After causing a minor ripple, they vanished from sight.

With Ferrari rising rapidly and Mercedes preparing to counterattack and defend their lead, time was running out for Red Bull.

The summer break was approaching step by step. If Red Bull couldn't launch a strong counterattack in time, their hopes for the 2019 Constructors' and Drivers' Championships would vanish again.

And it wasn't just the leading pack. The cutthroat battle in the midfield had reached a new height. With the exception of Williams, the grid was delivering spectacular drama this year. It was in this tense atmosphere that the ten teams arrived at Hockenheim for the German Grand Prix.

Unquestionably, Hamilton was in the spotlight.

Logically, second place was still an excellent result. Hamilton had continued his strong performance at Silverstone, securing a podium finish for the sixth consecutive year. He deserved praise. But this year was slightly different. Both the race itself and the landscape of the paddock made the atmosphere feel... subtle and strange.

'Second place' wasn't an honor; it felt like a humiliation, comparable to a slap in the face. This was especially true after Silverstone, where the adulation for Kai was deafening. Headlines declaring "The Ascension" were plastered across every major and minor media outlet. In stark contrast, calls to disqualify Hamilton's race result were relentless, carrying all the way to Hockenheim.

And so—

Hamilton suffered a 'home defeat,' the season's landscape experienced a dramatic turning point, and immediately after, they arrived at Mercedes' home turf.

The pressure!

It was multiplying exponentially.

The 2018 season was still fresh in memory. The sudden passing of Marchionne had disrupted the established order. Under immense pressure, Kai had displayed the demeanor of a king at Hockenheim, announcing his presence with an unbelievable race. In sharp contrast, Vettel had crumbled under the pressure of his home race. The two drivers embarked on entirely different trajectories from that point forward.

The result?

Kai burst onto the scene, pulled a tooth from the tiger's mouth, and claimed the World Championship.

Now, a seemingly familiar situation was unfolding again.

Mercedes felt no pressure. Right, no pressure at all. It was just that the press conference room was packed to the brim with slightly more reporters than usual.

Easily double the usual amount.

"Lewis, the two collisions at Silverstone were extremely dangerous. Many people believe the FIA should have disqualified you, as a time penalty clearly wasn't enough of a deterrent. Don't you think your actions were irresponsible? Kai nearly lost his entire race because of it. People are comparing you to Max. How do you respond?"

Buzz—buzz—

Clearly, this wasn't the first time. A similar scene had played out at Silverstone. Yet, the reporters seemed to have collective amnesia, bringing it up again at Hockenheim, asking the same questions over and over.

Crowded, dense, fanatic. The microphones were practically shoved into Hamilton's mouth. The eagerness and greed in their eyes carried the scent of blood. Even from a distance, they looked ready to swallow Hamilton whole. The media had unhesitatingly bared their fangs.

A moment's carelessness, and there might not be a single bone left.